[Day 23, night]

[Ophelia]

After they'd all left them alone, she curled up with Beryth as the queen
slowly recovered consciousness.

<Phelia?...>

"I'm here, dear," she said aloud as well as thinking it to her dragon.

Beryth's blue-green eyes opened blearily and she looked at the eggs,
already hardened and sitting in the sands where Calishandra had warmed
them.  <Hard...  Why are they already hard.>

Ophelia sighed, and began to talk.

******

[Laria]

She had to agree that a trial made the most sense.  Well, not quite...
"Not a trial," she said, quietly.  "A hearing on whether you should be
tried at all."

Ash'chenon looked at her mystified.  "What's the difference?"

"A trial insinuates we have enough evidence to probably convict you and
requires us to be fairly organised and directed in our witnesses.  A
pre-trial hearing, on the other hand, anyone can speak.  It allows people
to feel more like they've been heard." 

Ash nodded.  "I can see that.  So, you'll set it up?"

"Yes."  She sighed then.  "It's too bad Retala's dead.  She'd defend you
without blinking an eye.  Unfortunately, your defense is going to be
taking some heat."

"I'll do it," R'chis said.

She turned to her mate.  "You know it'll make you unpopular."

He shrugged.  "Hey, at least I'm the mate of the junior queenrider.  They
can't say too much nasty about me."

She grimaced as the little kicks she'd been feeling turned into a big
kick.  "Your son or daughter doesn't agree."

R'chis chuckled.  "Well, we need to decide how we're doing this.  And
when."

"Ga'brin's funeral is tomorrow," R'chein said.  "Probably would be best if
we kept Ash's presence here quiet till after then."

Laria nodded.  "Okay.  No one else, and I mean no one else, is to be told
that Ash is here.  Can you two keep your dragons quiet?"

Ash and Laya both nodded.

"Good.  Now, let's figure out what we'll do then..."

******

[Ophelia]

Beryth let out a mournful sound.  <No more mating flights... no more
eggs...>

"I'm sorry, dear.  I really am.  But the decision needed to be made and
there wasn't time to consult you."

<I know.  Not your fault.>  The dragon's great head settled on her front
claws and stared at the clutch of eggs.  <I have to take extra care of
these, since they're my last.>

Ophelia thought about the mating flight with Storm.  How much more would
she have savoured it if she'd known?  <Well, we have to look at the bright
side,> she said, trying to offer up comfort. 

<And what's that?>

Ophelia considered for a long moment.  <I no longer have to be warrenlady.
That means we can go places when we feel like it.>

<But don't you have to do something to earn your keep?>

Ophelia smiled.  <Yes.  I'll have to think of something to keep myself
busy.  Maybe I could learn to see the affinity and be a Searcher.>

Beryth studied her doubtfully.  <You've tried to learn to see the affinity
before...>

<Well...  I'm sure there's something a trained dragonrider could do around
here...>  She stopped then and looked up.  "Of course," she said aloud.
"After the hatching, you and I will join a combat wing."

<A combat wing?>

"Why not?  You're no longer in need of protection as an egg-layer.  And as
the third-largest dragon in the DragonLands, you've got a longer and
hotter fire breath.  We'd be ideal."

<We're too old.>

"Beryth!  We're not that old."

<We're not trained.>

"We had basic training in self-defense back when we first joined.  All we
need is a refresher."  Ophelia sat back in the sands, having discovered
some purpose in life again.

Beryth could feel her growing excitement.  It made sense.  Ophelia had
always wanted to be a combat rider like her parents had been.  Somehow,
Beryth didn't think it would be as easy as all that...

******

[Day 24, morning]

R'chein stormed into Sarrine's office.  "What the hell do you think you're
doing telling Sandor there's some hope for his eyesight?"

Sarrine looked up in surprise.  "He--"

"You know damn well the only thing in that bottle besides whiskey was
grain alcohol and even if there were something else there his weeks of
coma have certainly allowed it to pass out of his system.  There's nothing
to antidote.  We did all we could weeks ago when we pumped his stomach."

"I thought he could use a little hope," she defended.

"Not when it's a false hope, Sarrine.  His optic nerves are gone and he's
just lucky it didn't shut down his liver or kidneys."

"You didn't see him, R'chein.  You didn't see how hopeless he looked.  And
maybe this way he'll tell us who did this to him without doing something
stupid like trying to have whoever it is killed.  You can't kill a man if
you think he's got information you need."

"You think he's that far over the edge?"

"I do," she answered seriously.

He stopped then and gnawed his lip.  "I don't think he knows."

"What?"

"I talked to him, Sarrine.  He acted cagey, but...  I think it's an act. 
I don't think he remembers much of those last couple of weeks.  He didn't
remember that Libby was with him when they discovered the grain alcohol.
He didn't remember he knew that's what he'd had.  He didn't remember why
he was here-- that he'd been put here for his drinking.  He blusters
through a lot, but I don't think he remembers, and you can see the fear in
his face.  Someone tried to kill him and he doesn't remember who it was." 

She sighed.  "What do we do, then?  Someone gave him that bottle."

He nodded.  "And so far as that someone knows, he's going to finger them
at any time.  I don't think we need to worry about Sandor drinking
anything someone brings to him. However, I do think we need to watch that
he doesn't come up with a sudden case of terminal knife in the heart... 
and our own staff aren't beyond suspicion."

Her face turned pale.  "Then who can we trust?"

He stared off into space, thinking.  "New Searchlings.  Those that were
gone for the whole incident and have just now arrived back.  That's about
it.  Have we got anyone new who can take care of him today?"

"Eleanora, but she's deaf..."

"She can read lips, right?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good.  For today, let's go with her and we'll find someone to watch him
for the nightshift.  Hell, I expect we could discount L'sein and B'rin as
suspects, given their situations."

"You're going to trust him to L'sein?" she asked, trying to soften the
question a little.

R'chein grimaced.  "Sandor isn't naive or innocent enough to be L'sein's
type."

"And about his chances of seeing again?"

R'chein sighed.  "We'll let him hope for a while, then break it to him
later."

******

[Laria]

"So, tomorrow, we're planning on having a hearing after we've revealed
that he's here." 

Ophelia nodded.  "It sounds like you've got a good plan worked out."

"So you think you'll be up to judging at a hearing?"

Her mother considered her, an odd expression in her eyes.  "You know this
is Beryth's last clutch?"

"Yes, so?"

"So, tradition says I have to step down as warrenlady and cede the
position to you."

Laria recoiled in shock.  "You can't... not right now, with this...
Mother, how can I take over the warren when I'm eight months pregnant and
everything's in an uproar and Alpha Wing needs rebuilding and Beta Wing
needs a wingleader and--"

"Stop!" Ophelia held up a hand to forestall any more protest.  "Laria,
dear, if this had been a more serious case, you wouldn't even have had me
here to consult.  You'd have been on your own, as I was when I became
warrenlady.  I'll be here to help you, but you need to start stepping into
the role.  I'm officially ceding the warren to you at the hatching party,
unless you want it earlier..."  Laria vehemently shook her head.  "But,
until then, you need to be learning the ropes.  I want you to stand as
judge in the hearing for Ash.  I'll be there only as an advisor and
witness."

******

[Sandor]

"You're going."

"I don't want to go," Sandor protested, waving in the general direction of
where he knew L'sein to be.

"Goddammit.  You act like you're the only one who's suffered.  H'nry lost
his lover and you don't see him pouting like a child.  I had a wraith eat
half my guts out and totally ruin my health.  Feel this, you bastard."

A hand grabbed his own and pressed it to a set of ribs, with almost no fat
upon them.

"Half of the stuff I eat gives me the runs and I can't keep meet on my
bones.  I look like the living dead."

Sandor remembered how handsome L'sein had always been and shuddered at the
image.

"No, you're going to go to the funeral and honour Ga'brin and offer some
damned comfort to his mate and child.  If anyone knows what she's going
through, it's got to be you.  So you're going.  Now get up out of that bed
and let me get you washed and dressed decently."

Sandor retreated from the voice into the center of his bed.  "I don't
think I can face her, L'sein.  I don't think I can face them...  Someone
tried to kill me, and I don't know who... I don't know why...  How can I
go on?"  He covered his face to hide the tears that sprang to his eyes.

There was silence from where L'sein stood, then a hand gently touched him.
"You just go on.  B'rin and I'll be there with you.  We won't let anything
happen to you."

Respectfully submitted,
 Lynette R. F. Cowper
  Laria and Vithraena
  Ophelia and Beryth
  R'chein and Lofflossit
  Sandor and Dinnan

NRPG: Yes, I'm moving ahead to Ga'brin's funeral, but only with Sandor
and L'sein.  Anyone else is open for most of the day.  Folkses can catch
up to this point at their leisure.

---

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