Just a piece of a Daere post that involves Keldarra briefly.

---

 Lynette R. F. Cowper <lcowper@indy.net>, INWO Line Editor

---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Wed, 21 Oct 1998 15:02:45 -0500
From: "Lynette R. F. Cowper" <lcowper@indy.net>
To: Daere Warren -- Allen Veazey <wolf@dbtech.net>,
    Archive <dlands@indy.net>, Barbara Matthews <carolyn@prismnet.com>,
    bionic kitty <bionic_kitty@yahoo.com>, Brian Davidson <briand@indy.net>,
    David Muir <muir@cheerful.com>, Dianne Eberle <dulcinea@city-net.com>,
    Joan <evillady@concentric.net>, John Pepper <Trissana@aol.com>,
    Kate <domani@hotmail.com>, Lea Harris <leah@lgclmdl.demon.co.uk>,
    Lone Wolf <lonewolf01@usa.net>, Louise Koester <sanya42@mwci.net>,
    Lynette Cowper <lcowper@indy.net>, Mike Shelton <mike054@gte.net>,
    Mike Shelton <mike054@yahoo.com>,
    Nicole Aaron <mistressniki@earthlink.net>,
    Paula Sandusky <Rogue5Jedi@aol.com>, Peter Shillan <peters@totem.co.uk>
Newsgroups: alt.shared-reality.sf-and-fantasy
Subject: [DL-D] One More Death Is Too Many

<snippage>

Tair'n turned and mounted his dragon for the flight to the Medical Center. 
Sinia was still laying beside the building, staring despondently at a
window.  When Tair'n dismounted, Amadith went to cuddle up next to her. 
The two dragons weren't particularly close, even though Amadith had won
every one of her five mating flights, but the desperation in W'roan's
dragon's face demanded comforting. 

Tair'n headed inside and followed the halls to the room he knew W'roan was
in, based on the window Sinia had been at.  He quietly slipped the door
open and stepped inside.

The smell hit him first, sickening him.  Tair'n fought the urge to vomit. 
It was the smell of death and fire.  It had permeated the warren the day
before, coming from the hatching cavern.  Here, it came from the still
form lying on the bed. 

W'roan's face was completely covered in gauze strips, leaving only a hole
for his mouth and two small holes for his nostrils.  His eyes were
completely covered.  The scorched remnants of his hair had been cut off
and tossed into a trash can.  His forearms and hands were also covered in
bandages.

Tair'n had the sudden image of W'roan's burned and bloody hands reaching
for his even more horribly burned and bloody face.  In that flash of
memory, he saw that the eyesockets were dark and gaping holes.

He turned to flee the room and lost the battle with his stomach.

"Are you all right?"

He looked up into the concerned face of the healer, Noni.  "I'm okay now.
I came to see W'roan.  The smell..."

She nodded.  "I can see that.  I'll get a staffer to clean that up."  She
pointed to a washroom.  "I think you can probably just wipe that off of
your jacket with a little water."

"Thanks."

He emerged a few minutes later, clean and composed.  The floor of the
corridor was clean now, but Noni still stood outside.

"Tair'n, do you know how to get in touch with W'roan's family?"

He nodded.  "Ro and I went to their village once.  He pointed out their
house to me."

She nodded.  "You might want to contact them.  Let them make their peace
with their son."

He closed his eyes.  "Oh, gods.  There's no hope, is there?"

"No," she said, and he could hear the tightness in her voice.  She was a
healer who didn't like to lose patients.  "Not unless you know someone who
can work miracles."

******

He was just about out the door when he encountered Salas, the Taverner's
son from W'roan's village that he and W'roan had "Searched" on their visit
there.  The young man nodded.

"Tair'n, you're up early."

"Came to check in on W'roan," Tair'n answered.

"Oh.  So did I.  How is he?"

Tair'n hesitated, then shook his head.  "Not good.  I'm probably going to
your home village today to talk to W'roan's parents."

"Gods... Is it that bad?"

Tair'n nodded.  "Noni says it would take a miracle."

"A miracle..." Salas murmurred.

"Know of any?" Tair'n asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Suddenly, a light dawned in Salas Taverner's eyes.  "Yes, I do.  His name
is Almiron."

"Almiron?"

"The leatherworker that seduced me and got me into trouble with my family.
He's a dragonrider.  Gamma Wingleader at Keldarra."

"I don't see the connection," Tair'n said.

"He's a healer.  Not like Noni or Herin, but a... a miracle-worker.  He
can touch people and heal their wounds."

"But Ro's practically dead..."

"He healed a little girl who'd been wrapped up in a wraith.  Half her skin
was burned off and he healed her.  I heard the story at Keldarra."

"You'd recognise him?" Tair'n asked.  Maybe it was a vain hope, but the
warren had seen enough death.

"Gods, yes!  Think I could forget my first lover?"

Tair'n quirked a smile.  "Then come on.  We're going to Keldarra."

<My rider,> Amadith spoke, <Victroy's rider has called a meeting of the
wingleaders to hear the case against Flerrion's rider.>

<When for?>

<An hour from now.>

<We'll be back by then.>

******

"What do you mean he's not here?"

The rider shrugged.  "No one's seen him since yesterday afternoon."

"Who and where is his wingsecond?"

"Michel, rider of Paranth.  He's in his apartment," the rider pointed.
"But--"

"Thanks, I'll talk to him."

******

"Michel, rider of Paranth?"

The red-headed rider stared at him for a moment, then his eyes went
distant and he nodded.  "That'ss mee.  Aand youare?"

Tair'n wondered why the rider was speaking so oddly.  "Tair'n, rider of
Amadith, Alpha Wingleader from Daere Warren, and this is Salas, rider of
Villarn.  We were--"

The Keldarra rider held up his hand.  "Jussa mminute.  Takes aa secn for
Pranth tto relay."

"Relay?"

The man paused, his head cocked to one side, then nodded and pointed at
his ear.  "'M deaf.  Temporrary.  Dragn sscreamed in m'ear."

"I see..." said Tair'n, wondering what the man had done to the dragon to
elicit such a response.

"You wr saying?"

"Oh, yes... we're looking for Almiron.  We've got someone badly injured,
dying, at Daere, and I... I wanted to know if it was true that he could
heal him."

After the moment's relay time, Michel nodded and pointed to his eye.  "It
was gone.  He r'stored it.  But I don know where he is.  He'n his mate,
Darlea, dis'peared yesterday."

"Damn."

"Try Clef."

"What?"

"Clef Warn.  Tell 'em you're lookking for a dain Hehran."

"Dain Hehran?"

Michel nodded.  "The Nomads call em that-- all the oness who can heall
with toush."

"Thank you.  I'll try there."

<snippage of remainder of post>

Respectfully submitted,
 Lynette R. F. Cowper
  Tair'n and Amadith

---

 Lynette R. F. Cowper <lcowper@indy.net>, INWO Line Editor