Dray's pages - originally written around 2001
Among the travelers who frequently move between
Dawnlight, Blackstone Weyr, and parts south, Doray is one of the best
hunters the group has. At 22 turns old, he is mature enough to know that
his days as a potential candidate are limited, but he is still young enough
to wish for the skies.
His brightly dyed clothing -- only worn for certain special occasions,
and shown here -- show off a flying-dragon pattern that his mother, an
expert yet not craft-trained Weaver made for him. His love, too, Erini,
is a weaver of no small degree and provides him with other tunics and
leggings when needed. He appreciates the gesture, and often returns from
hunting with the hides of sturdy tunnel snakes, or other wild animals,
to be tanned into leathers.
At more than 6'5, he is a strapping man, and though he seems built narrow
and lithe, he is very strong as well as limber. His chisled handsome face
attracts many to him, but he has eyes only for Erini.
He knows that life in a weyr will be considerably different than anywhere
else. He has seen first hand the people who come and go in a weyr, but
he truly wishes to be one of them which leaves and enters a weyr upon
a dragon's back, rather than among a caravan's troops.
Doray and Erini have a son of four turns, Reray, and a daughter just under
a turn, Edina. When or if Doray impresses, his family will certainly make
a good addition to a weyr, as weavers and weyrbrats are invaluable tools
for helping a weyr!
"He doesn't want to talk to you any more," Doray
muttered, at one of the other travelers in their caravan. "Because you're
just being stuck up."
The young woman made a 'piff' noise and stomped off, trying for a better
opinion of herself than Doray would offer. She hoped that because he was
'good' with ladies, he'd have the sense to compliment her and make her
feel better about having 'dumped' a boy recently.
No such luck. Doray grinned to himself and chuckled when Erini approached
near the fire where he tended the roasting wherry leg.
"She seemed a bit miffed," Erini said, turning Edina to her other shoulder.
"What was it all about this time?"
"Nothing different than the last times," Doray said. "Here, this is almost
done. Edina could probably have a piece of that end."
"What, with all that fat on it?" Erini said, but then grinned and added,
"I think I'll keep it for myself! I have to keep my strength up you know.
All this weight I lug around..."
"Oh here," Doray held out his arms and his sleepy-headed daughter clung
on to him as she went back to rest. Doray and Erini spoke quietly and
served up some of the wherry when others came by, enticed by the scent.
Then, abruptly, the calling night birds and other such beasties of the
woods where the caravan rested all went still and quiet.
Doray looked up, his first inclination to think that a dragon had gone
over head was correct. There was a darkness passing overhead, and it was
the shape of wings and long body.
"I wonder who they are, flying so low tonight? There isn't Thread due,
from what the starcrafters said before we left Caledrus." Doray said,
standing. Erini took their daughter back, and went into their caravan
just in case it was something less pleasant than a friendly visit. She'd
never much liked dragons, but then again, she'd rarely gotten up close
to one.
Doray on the other hand relished every moment with them. And tonight,
his wild imagination was given a boost into reality, when that same dragon
came winging down to the wider clearing where the more important caravan
leaders camp sat. The dragon attracted more angry shouts from its wings
beating wind down over the tents and spooking the runner beasts, but then
soon they quieted when it looked like the rider meant business.
First Doray saw him stalk over to the leader's caravan, have brief words,
and then he went to others. But what Doray noticed was that the blue dragon
was following the man's every move himself. With those faceted, colorshifting
eyes, the dragon finally looked at Doray.
The red-skinned man froze. But not with terror, rather with a kind of
awe. It was as if the dragon knew everything about him, without asking
at all. Without any warning, then, the dragon's rider approached.
"You're the one we're looking for," said the man. He was not young any
longer, but he looked healthy enough and his dragon did not seem altogether
threadscored. "We're on search from Aden weyr, and you're the one that he wants."
"Doray," Erini said, holding their son's hand, "Doray... Aden is not far
from here. And... Even I have heard good things about their dragons."
"The Protectorate has always supported Aden," the rider said. "And from
what I was told, you lot are good representitives of the Protectorate,
even if the folks at Dawnlight Hold seem not to think so."
"That is because they've stolen our lands from us," Doray muttered, "but
there is only politics to be done about that, and I've no head for them.
Erini must keep me from them when we start heading back that direction...
Would you like some wherry? You must be tired, and I have been cooking
for a while tonight. It'd be a shame to waste this good meat."
They chatted about the weyr, hold and many more things, long into the
night. Finally, it was decided that Doray would be flown to the weyr,
in case the eggs were to hatch soon -- they were almost completely hardened
on the sands, and it would be time for the candidates to stand. Then,
that Erini and their children would take their caravan cart, their two
runners, and their three goats, and would go to Aden for the duration.
If Doray was not impressed with this clutch, there was always next time...
***
Doray took off the bloodied robe and gave it to
the drudge who collected them from all the candidates. Once the impression
was all over, and everyone was fed and bathed and oiled (everyone, meaning
the dragons), the newly impressed weyrlings were then brought to the main
hall for a huge feast!
"This is more like it," D'ray said to Erini, "having people serve us for
a change!"
She cuffed him on the shoulder, "Do- D'ray," she corrected herself, "I'm
going to be weaving and tailoring here for the next two turns, so you
behave yourself around drudges and workers!"
The broad smile on his face wouldn't fade, of course, it only got wider.
"I will. I promise. Now with Keoketh up there," he thumbed toward their
weyr, "I know my place in the world better than anyone."
I know you will, I like everyone around here!
You're supposed to be asleep!
D'ray bespoke his dragon, and I'm supposed to be eating!
Bring me something... and I
want to see your beautiful family again...
The dragon went back to sleep, and Erini laughed.
"That will take some getting used to," she said, "you all cross eyed like
that."
Their baby Edina gurgled and laughed, and D'ray swept his finger over
her plump cheek. "I wonder if..."
Erini smiled broadly. "Of course they will. Now that we know they've got
dragonrider blood in them."
***
D'ray and Erini and their children attached their
hopes on the brown dragon who headed a wing as strongly as ever. D'ray
was so confident in Keoketh that they trained soundly for months as weyrlings.
The brown grew steadily as the rest of his clutch did, but his wings were
wider, his breath longer, and he seemed to relish the work of flight and
fighting more than the others.
I do like this, this is what I am meant to do. Your wife is proud of me,
and I like your little hatchlings!
"Why thank you, Keoketh!" D'ray laughed, as they flew in from training.
The weyrling gave off a proud bugle.
***
At last, the dragon and
rider pair had grown enough to leave Aden... It looked as if there was
a clutch on the sands, but ... it wasn't going to hatch. The brown bugled
in sadness.
They will not hatch, my rider. There will be other clutches, but not from
Aden. It has been a long while, and their queens cannot keep the sands
healthy.
It is no longer out concern, though,
D'ray spoke privately, sadly, to his dragon. We will be back at the new Protectorate.
There, perhaps, you will fly again and be one of the strong defenders
of our new world.
I will! I will do it better than all the others!
***