After leaving Cynthia, Trevor's first stop was the hatchling barracks to
pick up Trissana.  When he entered, he found Reain busily oiling her new
dragon Trinaka.

     "Trinaka said she was itching," the Nomad explained.  "I knew I would get
no sleep until I oiled her."

     "I think mine needs it again too," Trevor told her, looking over at his
own dragon.  Trissana and Trinaka were looking at one another, obviously
talking about whatever it was that hatchlings found to talk about.  "So how
are you adjusting to life here at Cleft?" he asked, as he began to oil his
dragon's pearly scales.

     "Having dragon is strange, but...wonderful," Reain answered.  "I was
afraid of dragons...in Nomadlands, dragons are wild and terrible
creatures...but dragons of Cleft Warren are nothing like that.  Some of my
people are still unhappy with Quaryin's choice to come here, but I think it is
better.  Nomads have always traveled, and know no other life...but with
wraiths here, I think there *is* no other life for us than here.  I sleep
better knowing that my daughter is safe."

     Trevor nodded, unable to argue with that logic.  "It should be
interesting to see how things go tomorrow," he remarked.  "Qedhar is going to
be one of the trainers, and I hear he can be pretty tough."

     Reain laughed.  "Of course!  He is Nomad!" she said.  "I think, though,
that Nomad riders have an advantage over those of you who come from this
place.  Nomads grow up in the saddle, and riding dragon should be little
different from riding horse."

     "I suppose there's something to that," he agreed.  "I'm not very good
with a horse.  I rode all the way from Ralengarde on a horse...in fact, I got
here on the day we rescued your daughter.  My rear was so sore, it was all I
could do to sit on Azure's saddle!  And that horse of mine knew I wasn't a
particularly good rider, so he kept trying to knock me off - if I didn't watch
him constantly, he'd try to drag me under low branches."

     Reain chuckled.  "Quaryin, chief of Rushela tribe, has same problem with
new horse.  He has given it name, in Nomad tongue, which means 'bad-horse-who-
tries-to-unseat-rider.' He says that he begins to think he made mistake in
accepting horse as gift price for me."

     Trevor blinked.  "Gift price?" he asked.

     "Yes, it is custom," she explained.  "Before Quaryin would agree to allow
me to come to Cleft Warren, Dragonraidah Lenna had to give tribe gift price.
She gave horse to Quaryin, and he accepted."

     Trevor's brows furrowed.  Lenna?  Now where would she get a horse?  "Um,
Reain, what does this new horse of Quaryin's look like?"

     Reain shrugged.  "Black, with white marking on face between eyes."

     "Jojo!" Trevor said, scowling.  He'd *thought* that horse he'd seen at
the Rushela camp looked familiar.   He thought back to Lenna's fanciful tale
of how she and Katrina had risked their lives fighting a wild dragon to save
Jojo, but had been too late to save anything but his saddlebags.  Hmph!  It
was a good thing that Quaryin hadn't wanted his compass too, or Lenna would
have probably given him *that* as well!

     "Quaryin is not pleased with horse," Reain remarked.  "If you are
interested, I believe he would make good trade to you for it."

     "No, that's all right," Trevor said, knowing that his need for a horse
had permanently ended on the hatching grounds this morning.  "That is, not
unless I could trade him Lenna for it..."

* * * * * * * * * *
(Upper green, shortly afterward)

     Though Trevor's first inclination was to confront Lenna on this horse
business, he knew that right now he had more important things to do.  Besides,
he hadn't seen Lenna around since she and B'rand had returned from the wraith
battle.  He did, however, find her brother Turner, and quickly enlisted him to
help with his current project.

     "I don't understand," the smith grumbled as they exited the warren and
walked out onto the upper green.  "I'd have thought you'd have had your fill
of cliffs after this morning.  Why can't you talk to this rogue from the lower
green, where you can at least see him?"

     "Because I'm not sure if he'll decide to flame us or eat us rather than
talk to us," Trevor replied.  "On the lower green, he could just swoop right
down on us.  Up here, he has to fly out of the apartment heading away from us,
then climb and turn before he can overfly us.  And by the time he's done that,
we'd be safely back inside the warren."

     Turner nodded, obviously agreeing with the "safely" part.   He carefully
paced off the distance from the entrance, walking parallell to the cliff edge.
He stopped a short ways down.  "Right below us," he said.  "If the number you
gave me is right, then he's in the top row, with the entrance about ten yards
below the edge here."

     "Thanks, Turner," Trevor replied, kneeling down and leaning over the edge
to confirm the location of Garoth's apartment.  Then he went over and spoke to
his dragon.  *You know what to do?* he asked.  

    <Oh, yes, my rider> she replied eagerly.  She trotted over to the edge -
though she obviously remembered her close call here earlier, since she dropped
down onto her belly and crawled the last couple of yards.  When she was in
position, she dug her claws in and leaned her neck out over the edge.
<Hellooooo!> she called.

     Her answer was an angry roar, followed by a tremendous blast of flame
that issued from the apartment entrance and licked its way up the rocky
cliffside.  With a startled squeak, Triss pulled her head back just in time to
keep from being hit by it.  

     "Damn!" Trevor swore, as he and Turner both hit the dirt.  He grabbed
Trissana's tail and tried to pull her back from the edge, but the little
dragon was having none of it.  Instead, she once again stuck her head out and
glared angrily down at the darkened entrance.

     <Shame on you!> she cried angrily.  <Does your mother know you act like
that?>

     Garoth extended his head out to see who had spoken.  Finding nothing
below or in front of him, he finally looked up into the hatchling's blazing
sapphire eyes.  <Oh...hello there, little one!>

       <Don't you 'hello there little one' me!> she retorted, refusing to be
mollified.  <A fine thing when a poor, defenseless little hatchling can't go
out for a walk in her own warren without some rude dragon belching flames at
her!>

     Garoth hung his head, embarrassed.  <I'm sorry, I thought you were
someone else...>

     <And furthermore, my name is *Trissana,* not 'little one'!!>

      <I am truly sorry, Trissana,> Garoth told her sheepishly.  <I thought
you were that Adrian again.  He was here just a short time ago, and tried to
force me to tell him where my warren is.  He even threatened to hurt my
rider!>

     Trissana's eyes widened, and she forgot her anger.  <That's terrible!>
she said.  <I guess I forgot that your rider was hurt.  Is there anything my
rider or I can do?>

     <No, nothing.  The humans who took him away are caring for him, and we
will leave here as soon as he is able to travel.  By the way, just how old are
you?>

     <Well, actually, I only hatched this morning,> she replied, a little
embarrassed.

     Garoth chuckled.  <Should you be out here by yourself?  Does your rider
know that you are up there?>

     <Oh, he is...> Triss began, but then felt Trevor's warning tug on her
tail.  Even though he couldn't hear Garoth's side of the conversation, he
guessed that she was about to tell the rogue that he was with her - something
he *definitely* didn't want, since that would raise his suspicious.
Fortunately, Triss remembered her instructions.

    <...probably looking for me right now, as a matter of fact.  I had better
return to the barracks.  My rider is ever so strict about my getting to bed on
time!>

     Again the rogue chuckled softly.  <Then a good night to you, little
Trissana.  Perhaps I will speak to you again tomorrow, if I am still here.>

     <Good night, Garoth.  I hope your rider feels better soon.>

     She crawled away from the edge and went to her rider, just as he and
Turner were standing up.  <Was that what you wanted?> she asked hopefully.

     Trevor bent down and hugged her.  *You were wonderful!* he assured her.
*Now, if I asked you to later, could you find Garoth even if you couldn't see
him?*

     <Oh, yes, I am sure I could,> she told him as they re-entered the warren.

     Turner, bringing up the rear, was slowly shaking his head.  "If we're
through having fun now, will somebody *please* tell me what this is all
about?"

* * * * * * * * * * 
(Cynthia's apartment, shortly afterward)

     "...and so that was pretty much it," Trevor told the Warrenlady.  "He was
hopping mad, and it was obvious that he wasn't going to tell us anything.
Adrian must have leaned pretty hard on him."

     Cynthia, sitting across the table from him, rested her elbows on the
table and nodded slowly.  "But still, if you're right about Triss being able
to find other dragons,  she may eventually be able to locate Shakar for us by
locating Garoth, if..." and she held up a finger for emphasis, "...if we
decide that it's appropriate to conduct such a search.  It may be
unnecessary."

     "I hope it is," Trevor agreed, leaning wearily back in his own chair.
"Diplomacy is D'arcon's bag, finding things is mine.  Nothing would make me
happier than if he'd actually succeed in working out some kind of an agreement
with the rogues."

     "No argument there," Cynthia told him.  "Before, it would have been
impossible.  But now that Roland's gone, there may be just a chance.  His
successor may be more reasonable.  And they *did* help us in the wraith
battle."

     "Trissana won't be flying for awhile yet, so that ought to give D'arcon
time to either succeed in reaching an agreement with Shakar, or to discover
that it's hopeless.  But if it is hopeless, then I think we should try to
locate them."

     "And if we do locate them?" Cynthia asked.  "What are you suggesting?
That we attack?"

     "That, or find some way to coerce them out of the NomadLands without a
fight," he replied.  "Cynthia, I was at Ralengarde when the rogues attacked
the city.  I've seen what they're capable of doing."

     "I wasn't there, but I've seen and heard enough of what they've done just
since they came to the NomadLands," the Warrenlady said. 

     "And the thing is, eventually we *will* find Shakar, one way or another,"
Trevor told her.  "By the time I've finished mapping the NomadLands,  there's
no way that something as big as a warren could possibly have gone undetected.
I'd rather not stumble onto them by accident, and find Triss and myself facing
a dozen or more rogues alone."

     "Still, setting dragons against dragons is a terrible thing," Cynthia
told him.  "You have no idea how painful it is for a dragon to do that...you
may, though, now."  She leaned back and regarded him curiously.  "And I almost
forgot to ask how your dragon is doing!  You seem to have...um, *adjusted* to
things since this morning."

     "I know some things I didn't know this morning," he told her.  He reached
into his mapcase - which seldom left his side, out of old habit - and
extracted K'rald's journal.  "I know you're interested in history, especially
anything that has to do with dragons and riders.  When you get time, you might
want to read this.  I've never heard of anything like what happened to...to
M'del."

     Cynthia gazed intently at the leather-bound book, but didn't open it.
"Trevor, are you sure you want me to read this?"

     He sighed, and nodded his head.  "I think you'd be interested in the part
about Rashevon," he told her.  "And the other...well, I think you've already
guessed about the other thing, so I don't suppose there's any harm in your
seeing it in writing.  Besides, after all I put you through this morning, I
think you've got a right to know why it all happened."

     She laid the book on a shelf behind her.  "I'll read it later, and give
it back when I'm done," she told him, and then smiled.  "And you still haven't
told me how Trissana is doing."

     "Oh, she's fine," he told her, then realized that he'd just given her the
pat answer he'd given everyone about everything for the last 14 years.
"Actually, she's...wonderful," he said.  "I've only been with her for a day,
and yet...in that time, she's made me see how empty my life was before.  Now,
I can't imagine how I ever managed to exist the way I did."

     "I told you this morning that things were going to be different," she
reminded him.  "Did you put her to bed?"

     He nodded.  "After gorging herself, and getting yet *another* complete
oiling," he said, smiling.  "And speaking of which...you *did* mention
something earlier about dinner, didn't you?"

(Tag Alton)

* * * * * * * * * *
(next morning, the dining hall)

     Trevor was running late, and knew he'd need to hurry.  Qedhar would be
assembling the new trainees, and being late for his first day of training
wouldn't look good.  By his estimate, he had just enough time to grab a coffee
and a sweet roll, and have his breakfast en route.

     But when he entered, and saw Lenna sitting at a table nearby, he forgot
all about Qedar and punctuality.  Scowling, he stalked over to where she sat.

     The blonde rider looked up as he approached, and the corners of her mouth
curled up in a faint smile.  "Well, the new dragonrider!" she commented.  "So
my little talk with you yesterday morning helped, I see!"

      Trevor shrugged.  "Whatever.  You know, Lenna, I'm so hungry this
morning that I could eat a HORSE."

     She nodded, looking back down at her coffee.  "Well, you know where the
food is," she told him.

     Instead, Trevor sat down across from her.  "Could you speak up a bit?
You must be getting a cold...you're sounding a little HORSE."

     Lenna looked up at him, realizing that something was afoot.  "Do I?" she
asked.  Then a grin slowly spread itself across her face.  "Say, I was just
thinking about something.  When Trissana begins flying, you could find a way
to attach those saddlebags to her harness.  You remember, the ones that were
with your HORSE!"

     Trevor glared at Lenna, who was now chuckling merrily.  "So you *finally*
saw your old nag over in the Rushela camp, eh?  I'm surprised it took you a
full day to notice him!"  she said.

     "You gave my horse away!  I can't *believe* you gave my horse away!  And
then you made up that silly story about a *terrible* battle with wild
dragons..."

     "Just one dragon," she corrected him, grinning hugely.  "So, what's the
problem.  Everything worked out for the best, didn't it?  You got your stuff
back, didn't you?  And that was what you wanted in the first place.  We got
Reain as a new rider, didn't we?  And you've got a dragon now, so what would
you have done with that skinny old horse if you still had him?  You'd have
just wound up donating him to the Rushela or the Hanan anyway, wouldn't you?
Or would you have found some way to keep him in your apartment? Trissana might
like that, if she got hungry some night!"

     "Hey, watch it!  That's my horse you're talking about!!  And that's not
the point!  The point is that you didn't tell me the truth!"

     Lenna shrugged, unconcerned.  "Truth is a slippery thing, Mapmaker.  It
depends so much on how you look at things..."

     "How you *look* at things?" Trevor demanded.  "Okay, Lenna, how *do* you
look at the way you swiped my horse..."

     "He ran away," she reminded him.

     "...gave him to the Rushela..." he said, ticking yet another item off on
his fingers.

     "For a good cause," she said.

     "Made up a big lie to cover up what you'd done..."

     "Well, just a little white lie, perhaps..."

     "Forced Katrina  to be your accomplice in lying to me..."

     "She didn't say a word, actually..."

     "And now...now, you're sitting there and telling me, bold as brass, that
everything you did was all right and that I ought to somehow be *thankful* to
you for the whole thing!!"

     Lenna pursed her lips and thought about it for a moment, then nodded.
"Yep!  I think that pretty well covers it!"

     Trevor rolled his eyes and was ready to give it up as a lost cause, when
suddenly Lenna turned pale.  Her eyes widened, and she stood up unsteadily
from the table.  "Blanchie..." she whispered.  Without another word to Trevor,
she turned and dashed from the dining hall.

     "Hmmm..." Trevor said to himself, smiling with satisfaction.  He'd never
come out a clear winner in an argument with Lenna before.  Blanchie must have
come to his assistance, he decided, and convinced her of the error of her
ways.

     It wasn't until he heard the roaring of dragons outside that he realized
that he might just have been wrong...

(Tag Barb - I think this is pretty much what we talked about...)


Submitted by:

John
Trevor and Trissana
Cleft Warren