Feysal
(early morning, hatchling barracks)

     Feysal hadn't slept all night.  Part of his problem was the strangeness
of this new place he'd found himself in, but the greater part of it was the
turmoil his mind had been in since the battle yesterday at Jhezrael...and his
talk yesterday evening with the Warren-lady Cynthia.

     He didn't know what to believe anymore.  Khazeen *couldn't* be dead...he
was a *god!*  But how, then, to explain the destruction of Jhezrael that he'd
witnessed with his own eyes?  Could it be that these invaders from the North
were mightier than the gods themselves?  If so, then what did that bode for
his tribe, and all the tribes of the Nomadlands?

     He felt a presence stirring in his mind, and looked over to see that
Falorin was awake and staring curiously at his rider.  <Why are you so
unhappy?> the little dragon asked.

     Feysal smiled despite himself and reached over to loop an arm around
Falorin's soft neck.  *I...I am confused,* he admitted.  *I feel that we
should leave here, but....I just do not know...*

     <Why should we leave?> Falorin asked.  <This is a good place.  Plenty of
food and water, and besides, all my clutchmates are here.  I would not wish to
leave them, or my dam.>

     *But these are not our people!* Feysal told him.  *My tribe, the Tribe of
Nareem, needs us!*

     <Needs us for what?>

     *To help stop these invaders!*

     Falorin cocked his head.  <My rider, these dragons aren't here to invade
anything.  They are here to protect those who live in these lands from the
wraiths.  My dam Syren told all of us this, before we even hatched.>

     *No, that is not right,* Feysal corrected him.  *Khazeen said that they
enslave Nomads!*

     <This...Khazeen...was the rider of the black dragon Rashevon?> Falorin
asked.  

     Rashevon...Feysal had heard Shamir also called by that name, though he
didn't know what it meant.  *They were both deities of our people,* he told
the dragon.

     Falorin seemed puzzled.  <My rider, I can see in your mind that you think
they were something more than a man and a dragon.  But that is what they were.
And Rashevon was a very bad dragon.>

     Feysal shook his head.  *No, that cannot be true,* he told the dragon.
*Whoever has told you this lied to you.*   Still...Isara, too, now apparently
believed the words of these foreigners.  Oh, they were cunning, he'd give them
that! But he wouldn't be so easily fooled.

      Falorin insisted.  

     *He cannot be slain, he is a god!* Feysal said.  

     <No, Varie said that he is a dragon.  She knew him from the time he
hatched, at a place called Keldarra.  She said that he was a mean dragon, that
there was something wrong with his mind.  Oh, she also told me one other
thing...that his rider, who you call Khazeen, was her rider's own
hatchling...or sort of, anyway.*

     *NO!* Feysal cried mentally, clapping his hands over his ears as though
that could block out little Falorin's thoughts from his mind.  *This is
blasphemy!  I will not hear this!*

     <Well, okay,> said Falorin.  <But Vega said the same thing.  She knew
them too, didn't she?>

     Feysal just shook his head.  He no longer knew what to think, or who to
trust.  He could trust Falorin, he knew that...the little dragon would not try
to deceive him.  Still, that didn't mean that Falorin himself couldn't be
deceived.  And yet...if Renata too was saying this...she and Isara had, along
with Vascone, been Khazeen's chief servants, after all...

     <Well, Syren...my dam...said that Rashevon even tried to hurt *her,* and
he would have to be a very bad dragon to do that!  Dragons are supposed to
protect queens, not attack them and steal their eggs.>  He snuggled closer to
his rider.  

     *One of what?* Feysal asked.

     <One of the eggs that was stolen,> Falorin said.  <That is why I hatched
at that other place rather than here.>

     *I...I didn't know that.*

     <Well, at the time, I couldn't see anything, of course,> Falorin said.
<But I could sense my dam's thoughts while it was happening.   She was angry
and afraid at the same time...she could not imagine that another dragon would
do that to her, or her eggs.  I remember...I remember hearing her think that
it must have been the humans who told the dragon to do what he did.>

     Feysal felt his throat constrict.  *H-humans?*

     <Yes, there were several humans who came in right after Rashevon did,
just after one of my clutchmates-to-be was crushed in the fight.  It was they
who actually took my egg and the others, while Rashevon held Syren down.  They
were also the ones that forced Syren's rider to go with them when they took
the eggs.>   The little dragon sighed.   he admitted.

      *What...what don't you understand?* Feysal asked, his thoughts racing.

     <Well...I guess I can understand Rashevon doing the things he did,
because his mind didn't work right.  But those humans...why would they help
him?  Do you think their minds didn't work either, my rider?>

     Feysal gulped.  *I...I...don't know...*

     Falorin yawned.  <Neither do I.  Well, I think I'm going to go back to
sleep for awhile.  Then I think I'm going to need a good oiling...after I eat
of course....>

     Within moments, the little dragon was asleep again.  But for Feysal,
there would be no sleep.  He stared blankly out the window, to where the stars
were just beginning to fade with the first rays of dawn.

     Oh, Khazeen, he thought.  Why did you forsake your followers here?
Or...or did you lie to us all along?  Are these people telling the truth?

     One way or another, Khazeen had landed him in a royal mess.  Sooner or
later, his dragon would find out that he himself had been one of the Nomads
who'd raided the hatching cavern here.  And then what?

     Waiting until Falorin was deeply asleep, Feysal crept quietly out of his
bunk and made his way to the quarters that Isara now occupied.  She got more
spacious accomodations than the rest of the new riders, because she was a
"queen-rider"...whatever that was.  

     Isara was sleeping when he crept in.  He reached down and gently shook
her.  Isara came awake with a start.

     "Feysal!" she whispered, blinking up at him.  "What is wrong?"

     The young Nomad sat down on the corner of her bunk.  "Isara, I have a
problem.  My dragon just asked something of me that I....I am not sure how to
answer."  He quickly told her of his conversation with Falorin.

      "He didn't know it was me," Feysal said, finishing his narrative.  "And
how can I tell him?   And  yet...if I don't tell him, he will probably find
out on his own, eventually.  What would *you* do, Isara?"

(Tag Kate - seems like junior queenriders always get stuck having to solve
messy situations doesn't it?  And not always at convenient times of day... :)

* * * * * * * *

Trissana
* * * * * * * *

     Triss had been dozing out on the ledge when the Bohoc's frantic call
came.

<*TRISS!  My rider is in battle with C'aranth!  Help me!  I need to get
tohim!*>

     Triss was startled awake, but lost no time in launching herself from the
ledge to go and find Bohoc.  The green dragon was outside the dining hall,
anxiously trying to get his head in through the door.  He couldn't do it, she
knew...she'd been inside that place once, but had been just a hatchling at the
time.  She landed alongside him,  picking up from his mind an image of what
was happening inside.  Bohoc's rider and the ex-rider, C'aranth, were battling
one another...with swords!  What was wrong with them??  If Andahar were
killed, Bohoc would die too!!

     <Triss, what can we do?> Bohoc asked, frantic.  

     The pearl dragon thought quickly...the dining hall, like most of the
other interior spaces of the warren, were built into the solid rock of the
cliff face.  Even a dragon couldn't tear it down by force, and even if they
did, it would be at the risk of hurting the humans inside, including Bohoc's
rider.  This was, she decided, a job for humans to handle.

     <My rider!> she called urgently.  

     *What is it?* Trevor thought back, knowing from her tone that there was
trouble.

     <We have to help Bohoc's rider!> she cried, and quickly explained the
situation.

     *Oh...shit!* he growled, when she had finished.  *Hang on, I'll be right
there!*

     The two dragons waited anxiously, Triss trying to comfort the green
dragon until help could arrive.  But even before her rider got there, other
humans came, rushing between the dragons' legs to get in through the door.
The sounds of fighting inside quickly stopped, to be replaced by the sounds of
humans shouting at one another.  Well, at least that was an improvement.  No
one ever died from shouting, as far as she knew.  She quickly informed her
rider that the situation was under control.

     A short time later, after order had been fully restored, the two dragons
walked side by side through the warren.   Bohoc admitted.  <My rider is such a
smart person...how could get into *fight* with someone else from this warren?
It isn't as though there aren't enough bad things out there that need to be
fought...>

      Triss replied.  <My rider is a very smart person, too.  And yet he also
does things I have trouble understanding.>

     <Yes...well, I suppose that is why they need us so badly, to guide them
when they go astray,> Bohoc reflected.

     Triss bobbed her head up and down in affirmation.  Poor Bohoc was still
keyed up over what had nearly happened to his rider, and she decided that he
needed a distraction to make him feel good again.  The two of them had reached
the small bathing pool, and that gave her an idea.  She quickly turned and
waded in.  

     <Come on, let's get cooled off!> she called playfully.

     Bohoc chuckled.  <You want to get *wet*?>

     <Why not?> she suggested, settling herself down into the water, which was
little more than ankle-deep to a grown dragon.  She swished her tail around,
splashing a few droplets in Bohoc's direction.  <It's just the right
temperature!>

     Bohoc waded in, and was just settling himself down beside her when she
playfully pounced him, rolling the smaller green dragon over onto his back and
straddling him.

     <Hey!> Bohoc laughed, slapping his tail into the water to give her a good
splashing.  <You're heavy!  I'm going to have to quit bringing you so much
food!>

     <Fighting can be fun,> she giggled, nuzzling him, <as long as you keep it
in the right spirit!>

(Tag Arlene :)

* * * * * * * *
Kellie
(outside the med center)

     "Well?" she asked, after S'lomon had finished examining Varie.  Since
last night, the green dragon had been complaining of pains in her left wing,
and Kellie had wasted no time this morning in bringing her to S'lomon to be
checked.

     The healer made a couple of notes on his pad, then folded the paper and
turned to Kellie.  "Very simple," he said.  "She has a hairline fracture on
the main wing-arm, about midway between the shoulder and the first joint.
>From what you've told me, I would imagine it happened when that big black
dragon batted her across the cavern.  That was a pretty dangerous stunt you
two pulled, you know that."

     Kellie sighed.  "I know, but it had to be done...even if Varie and I had
both died, it would have been worth it.  Otherwise, M'del would have killed
even more people.  And Rashevon would have done to others what he did to
Trissana, and to Vonn."  She didn't tell him the rest of it, of course...that
she could have prevented it all, if she'd acted more wisely on that night at
Keldarra, fifteen years earlier.

     "Well,  I won't question your judgement on that, whatever my personal
feelings," S'lomon agreed.  "But in any case, she needs to stay in the warren
for a day or two, until this has a chance to heal properly.  Any stressrul
aerial maneuvers could cause that fracture to break entirely, and you know
what would happen then."

     Kellie nodded.  "Meena and I were scheduled to go out on patrol today,
though," she said.

     "Well, if I were you, I'd tell Dan'yar to get a couple of other riders to
take your patrol," S'lomon suggested.  "I really don't think Vonn's in any
condition to be flying a  patrol today either."

     "You're probably right," Kellie sighed.  "Thanks, S'lomon."

      <So, we're stuck here today,> Varie observed as the two of them left the
med center and headed back toward their apartment.

     *Yup, looks that way, dear,* kellie agreed.  <Let Vonn know, and then
tell Shinner.  Oh, and see if one of the dragons would mind bringing your
lunch up to your ledge today.  I don't want you hunting, at least for today.
You need to take it easy until that fracture heals.*

     <It doesn't really hurt that much,> Varie complained.

     *I know, dear, but you're not as young as you used to be.*

     The dragon whuffed in irritation.  <Getting old is a real pain, you know
it?>

     Kellie patted the dragon's neck.  *Yes, dear, believe me, I do.*

* * * * * * * *
Renata
(dining hall)

     She's hurried over from the med center, over S'lomon's objections, when
she heard of the arrival of the rider from Geode.  Now she listened in
horrified fascination as he told the assembled Cleft riders of the situation.
She knew Geode Warren well - she'd been there several times while she and Vega
had been at Epion.  Now, if the rider were to be believed, Geode was facing
destruction from a horde of wraiths more huge than any warren had ever fought.

      <Renata, are you thinking what I am?> Vega asked her.

     The rider nodded silently to herself.  She knew what she had to do...but
not whether it would be allowed.  She waited until the meeting had ended, and
then approached Warrenlady Cynthia.

     "Cynthia, I would like to...volunteer...to go to Geode with Cleft's
wing."

     The Warrenlady's face registered her surprise.  "But you're still
injured," she pointed out, indicating the crutch that Renata still needed to
get around.  "You can barely walk."

     "I know," Renata admitted.  "But I'd be fighting on Vega's back, of
course.  I wouldn't be doing any walking anyway."

     Cynthia looked doubtful.  "Renata, this is an unusual situation.  There's
still your banishment to consider.  There may be some doubt about whether it's
valid here, since Epion is part of an entirely different political system than
Cleft...but at Geode, there'd be no doubt at all."

     "Yes, I know," Renata answered.  "Warrenlady Phaedra may send me packing,
or even have me locked up for setting foot inside her warren.  But I *have* to
try...you understand that, don't you?"

     Cynthia sighed.  "You think that by volunteering for this, the Dragonlady
of Iseme might overturn your banishment?  That's doubtful, to say the least."

     Renata nodded.  "Cynthia, I have no remorse for my actions that resulted
in my being banished.  I would do it again.  But...I cannot go on like this.
Neither can Vega.  For a banished rider, the only choices are to live in the
wilds, like animals, or to take up with other rogues...like M'del.  I won't do
that again, but...Vega and I can't go back to that other life, either.  I
cannot realistically expect Vignette to overturn my banishment, I know
that...but its a chance.  And even if Vega and I both die, at least we could
do so with some semblance of honor."

     "I'm still researching your case," Cynthia pointed out.  "It may be that,
if it turns out that your banishment doesn't extend here, that you could stay.
You did help us at Jhezrael."

     Renata shook her head.  "Cynthia, I appreciate your efforts, but...have
you thought of the consequences if you do that?  Banished riders from Epion,
from Iseme, from Xylian or Jasra...most of them true rogues...would all come
flocking to your warrens here, asking to be admitted.  And the reverse would
be true...I would hate to think that someone like M'del could go to Epion or
to Geode, and be given a chance to repeat the crimes that caused them to be
banished in the first place.  No...I cannot stay here or at any warren as long
as my banishment holds.  Cynthia, will you allow me this chance?"

(Tag Alton)

* * * * * * * *

Trevor
(on the green)

     He watched as the dragons and riders of Cleft's wing assembled for the
flight to Geode Warren.  He stayed out of the way, though, knowing he wasn't
to be part of the relief expedition to the beleagured warren.  So he was
surprised when his own dragon landed nearby, the straps of her blue saddle
clutched in her teeth.

     <My rider, hurry, get me saddled up!> she cried.

     *Why?* he asked.  

     The dragon's eyes widened.  <Wraiths!!!> she almost mindshouted at him.
<There are wraiths attacking!  We must go with the wing to fight them!>

     *Whoa, hold it!* he told her.  *Triss, what made you think we were going
along?*  True, he had himself thought briefly of volunteering.  But practical
considerations argued against their going.  Besides, his first duty was to
this warren...and the memory of his return to the warren yesterday morning, to
find the hatching cavern devastated and Cynthia gone, was still fresh in his
mind.  He didn't want to leave her unguarded.

     The dragon blinked her eyes in confusion.  <Well...why would we not be
going?> she asked in return.  <Is it not our duty to fight wraiths when they
appear?>

     *I know...but not this time,* he told her.  *Not everyone needs to go.*

     <But...my rider...Blanchie is going, even though she's been sick.  Vonn
is going, even after what happened to her!  My clutchmates are going...look,
there is Sylois and her rider!!  Why must I be the one to stay?>

     Trevor glanced over to where the dragons were beginning to line up for
takeoff.  He could feel how badly Triss wanted to go...if he was to change his
mind, it would have to be now.

     No, he decided.  I know I'm doing the right thing.  She'll just have to
understand.

     *Triss...you and I have never fought wraiths before.  We'd just be in the
way.*

     The dragon's blue eyes widened.  <Oh.  I see.>   She laid the saddle down
and turned away from him just as the first dragons began to launch themselves
from the green.

     Trevor strode after her.  *Triss, that isn't what I meant!  You and I
haven't trained a single day with the wing.  In a battle against the number of
wraiths that rider was talking about, dragons and their riders live or die
depending on how well they fight as a unit!  We don't know the maneuvers, the
signals...we don't even have partners assigned to us!*

     Triss turned her head around to look at him.  <Will we ever, my rider?>
she asked.  <If not now, then....when?>

     Trevor sighed with frustration.  *There are three queens here at Cleft,
including one who's too young and small to fly.  If every dragon old enough to
fight goes off to Geode Warren, who will protect them if wraiths come *here?*
And they could, you know.*

     Triss let out a deep sigh, as the two of them watched the last dragons of
the wing leap skyward.   <Bohoc, be careful!> she called out softly, but of
course Trevor couldn't hear whether the green dragon replied.   Moments later,
the wing teleported and was gone.  Trevor saw that his dragon was still
staring at the empty sky.  He could feel her disappointment at having to stay
behind.

     *I'm sorry,* he told her, not knowing what else to say.  He knew he was
right in what he was doing...he couldn't allow her to throw her life away just
for the sake of making a heroic gesture.  He wished now he'd pressed J'errid
harder about being getting himself and Triss integrated into the wing...he
decided he'd talk to the wingleader again about it, or to Dan'yar.  But today
was not the time for that.  

     <It is all right, my rider,> Triss said sadly.    Before he could say
anything, she spread her wings and took off, landing on her ledge and
disappearing inside.

     "Trevor?"

     He turned and saw Cynthia standing just behind him.  He smiled to let her
know that everything was all right.

     "She wanted to go, didn't she?" Cynthia asked.

     Trevor nodded.  "And I couldn't make her understand why we couldn't.  Now
she thinks everyone has lost faith in her.  She wants so badly to feel needed,
and right now I think she feels that she isn't."

     Cynthia stepped up just behind him and put her arms around him.  "Perhaps
I could have Syren talk to her," she said.  

     Trevor nodded.  He hated to leave Triss feeling the way she did, but knew
that his talking to her wouldn't help...she clearly thought that he was just
telling her things to make her feel good.  Perhaps after Syren had spoken to
her, she'd listen to him.

      "In a way, I wish we *could* have gone," he admitted.  "Now I'm going to
have to wait here and worry about all of them...Dan'yar, Lenna, Meena,
Farr'in, Andahar, and all the rest.  That's harder than fighting, isn't it?"

     "Yes, it is," Cynthia agreed.  "Queenriders learn that early on, I'm
afraid.  But at least I don't have to worry about *you* not coming back from
there.  I went through that the night before last, and I'm not anxious to do
it again for awhile!"

     He smiled sadly.  "And I don't have to worry about coming back and
finding that something's happened to you while I was gone...that's something
I'm not anxious to repeat either."

     He slipped an arm around her waist as they began to walk back toward the
apartment.  "I have a full desk that I could use to keep me occupied," she
observed, "but it would be more fun to start making plans."

     "Plans?"

     "For a certain *ceremony* that will be taking place shortly?" she
reminded him.

     "Ah...yes," he said.  "Well, we could let Triss handle the invitations,
like she did for our fish fry.  That way we'd be sure that everyone in the
warren would be invited."

     "Have you told your mother yet?" she asked.

     "No, but I suppose I should," he said.  "She didn't go with the wing
either, so I can do that today I suppose."

     "What do you think she'll have to say about it?" Cynthia wondered.

     Trevor chuckled.  "She'll be thrilled, you know that!  The only reason
I'm hesitating to tell her is that I know she'll go dashing through the
warren, telling everyone she can find.  Hmm, maybe now would be a good time at
that, since there aren't that many people around."

     Just then, they heard someone calling to them from behind, and saw Demee,
Arly, and Leyean come running up.  When the three had skidded to a stop, Demee
drew himself up straight and gravely handed Cynthia a note.  "We have a guest
at the warren, Warrenlady Cynthia," he said.  "She asked me to give you this."
He handed Cynthia a neatly-folded note."

     Trevor looked on curiously as Cynthia opened the note and read it.  "What
does it say?" he asked.

     Cynthia read the note aloud.  "It says, 'Dear Cynthia, 	I would like you
to enjoy a cup of tea, and get to know you better.  We have much to speak on.'
And it's signed, 'Amberylle'."

     "Amberylle," Trevor mused.  "Never heard that name before.  But since
she's offering tea...."

NRPG:

I held Trevor and Triss back from the wraith battle, but consider them "on
call" if their special talents are needed at any point...for instance, if a
Cleft dragon gets taken over by one of the new Hellspawn, and needs to be
located.

I'll do another post shortly, involving Renata's departure, and her arrival at
Geode for the battle.

Submitted by:

John Pepper

Trevor & Trissana
Kellie & Varrie
Renata & Vega
Cleft Warren



     






          

             
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