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A new rush of information had flooded in to Trine on the day following Malvren's Hatching. Cetalese, like many other young riders, heard bits and pieces in between lessons for the next several days when they were traveling through hallways, attending meals in the mess hall, or keeping up with minor duties around the weyr.

The most prominent of rumors Ceta had heard was that Malvren had had only one Bronze and he had gone between early on. From what she gathered, it had been many cycles since any weyr had seen a hatchling between because of a lack of rider. The rest seemed to be pretty much standard Hatching information, if what she'd heard after Benden's Clutch was normal. How many dragons there were-- a number that Cetalese still didn't have down exactly-- and the most notable Impressions and what Eirlyn and her Gold had done. The poor woman still hadn't recovered from the loss of her weyrmate. As a Holder, Ceta understood the bond between a married couple better than many riders, though she hadn't suffered such a loss or experienced such a bond herself. Not was she ever likely to, now that she was a rider.

However, the rumors did make her think of her time at the weyrleader gathering at Southern nearly four sevendays ago. She had enjoyed meeting F'itz and Mercy, for all that their personalities varied so wildly from one another's. It was a good step forward for inter-weyr relations, and one she would hate to see go to waste. Plus, she had promised Mercy that she would write.

So she settled down in the barrack she shared with Eliza, drew out a sheet of paper and a valuable pot of ink, and settled down to write a letter. Perhaps now, with something to actually discuss, was the best time of all to write.


Dear Mercy,

It's been some sevendays since the weyrleader meeting, but I overheard some riders speaking of Malvren today and thought to write you. How have you been? I heard your recent Clutch was overall a success, but that you lost a Bronze. I was sorry to hear of it. With Thread so close, I know every weyr needs all the dragons they can get. Any loss of life is sad, of course, especially when the dragon is so young. Are the Candidates all right? I've never seen a riderless hatchling, but I can't imagine the little one went peacefully. I hope there weren't any fatalities, though the rumors here have said nothing about any.

I have lessons soon, so I will end this here so I have enough time to seal this and send the letter on. I'm sorry it's so short, for now, but I'll try to follow it with something longer. I know Daine- the Green firelizard who delivered this- wasn't with me at the convocation, so I hope she didn't startle you with her appearance. She's relatively calm for a Green, but she can be rather direct. Let me know if she was rude at all.

Again, I hope you are well and look forward to hearing back from you. Give my best to Aerith.

~ Cetalese


"Daine," Ceta called and, a moment later, the Green firelizard appeared with a small chirrup and landed on the desk. She cocked her head the paper her owner was rolling and then looked at Cetalese expectantly.

"I want you to take this to Malvren Weyr. It goes to Mercy, the rider of the White dragon. Do you understand? Mercy." She fixed an image of Mercy in her mind, so her flit would know who to look for. "White dragon." This time, she projected an image of Aerith as she stared Veralidaine down. The Green mantled her wings and let out an affectionate, cheerful little whistle. She understood. The cliff-weyr. She had seen images of it from other firelizards. She could go to the cliff-weyr, too, and find the White dragon and her rider. She picked the letter up in her front paw, flapped into the air, and blinked between as Cetalese watched. The Greenrider began packing her materials away just as Halith, who had been respectfully silent up to this point, peeked back in to make sure it was safe to interrupt her rider.

Cetalesemine?

I've sent the letter off with Daine. What is it, Halith?

Oh good! I hope you said hello from me. You did, didn't you? Anyway, lessons are soon. I'm following Lunath down to the training grounds. Will you hurry to meet us there now that you're done?

Cetalese pushed the drawer closed and stood. I'm on my way now.

Later, she would write an equally quick letter to F'itz, she decided on her way out of her room. It was hard to tell if the older rider was actually interested in hearing from her, but she would try anyway. He'd had a good head on his shoulders, even if Halith had considered Brumath "odd, but a good Brown", and Cetalese thought she could learn as much from him as she did from any of the older riders here. She had also seen an aerial maneuver one of the wings was practicing the other day that she wanted to ask someone about. Maybe he would know.

F'itz scanned the letter one last time before setting it down on his desk before him and fetching out a sheet of vellum. After opening his inkwell and picking up his quill he paused for a few moments, pondering how to begin.

Cetalese,

Correspondence, especially as rare as friendly correspondence between our two Weyrs, is never a waste.

Things at Benden grow more normal as the days go by, but we still feel the loss of our Weyrwoman and I cannot help but wonder about our future. If the twin golds rise together and fight our outlook is bleak indeed, but with luck either that will not happen or one of them will be taken far enough away for them not to feel in competition with one another.

They would have a child-queen ruling over them, or no queen at all. He hoped W'lin would continue to guide whichever girl ended up the senior, and that she would accept that guidance. Kindra was proud. She might choose to ignore him. Still, only time would tell that.

Brumath and I are well and I am glad to hear that things are well enough with you. I hope that your Weyrwoman makes a speedy recovery.

The wing formation you describe is primarily used to practice precision movements, and the discipline of holding your place. It had historical application in fighting Thread in some wind conditions, and may again soon enough if the Red Star in the sky is any indication. Having experienced Thread myself I wonder if we are prepared? I think not, truly I don't think we could ever be, but we could be using our energy much better by drilling and communicating with one another than by fighting and flinging accusations.

Over here investigations into the matter of the assassin have begun. Brumath has many theories, but I can't think of even one. Who would seek to murder our Queens and Weyrleaders with the Red Star shining? It makes no sense that I can see, but perhaps we shall turn up clues during the course of our investigation.

Fair winds and fine flame to you and Halith.

F'itz.

Setting his quill aside and blowing lightly on the ink to hasten its drying F'itz clicked his tongue to the black firelizard currently perched on his bookshelf and stroked the little beast as it fluttered over. "Cetalese," he pictured first the girl and then Trine Weyr as he remembered it from his visit, folding the letter and passing it over as he spoke. "Go now and give this to her. Good boy."

As the black vanished F'itz sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers, looking pensively up at the ceiling. He doubted most people would approve of what he'd just done and he was usually a man to go by the book... but he'd liked the girl and good relations really could be important in the future. Picking up the letter from the tropics F'itz got to his feet and selected an old dull covered book from his shelf and slid the sheet of paper inside at random. What his superiors and fellows did not know could not hurt them.

The tension in the Weyr, and even within his own investigation group was starting to get to F'itz. The usually reserved, detached man found himself thrown into a maelstrom of chaos and accusations, and worst of all his suspicions were growing. If he was right... well it didn't bear thinking about.

With stress and worry pressing on his mind he was only to glad to sit down at his desk and open the letter from Trine. Once he'd read it a couple of times he smoothed out a piece of parchment, dipped his quill into his inkwell, and started to write.

Cetalese

I share your frustration at the lack of any real facts. Those facts that have been turned up seem to shed no light on matters either, if anything they confuse even further. How are we to know what evidence is real, and what might be planted? How are we to find out anything at all if we fight like children? Apologies. I am finding working with my group frustrating; egos are clashing, making it hard for us to get along and also making it more difficult to get along with some of the people we are questioning.

Kindra. He worried more about her with every day. She was... proud, impetuous. She had none of the quiet poise a weyrwoman ought to possess, none of the dignity. He hoped she would grow into it, he really did.

I agree that this is something big, and you might well be right about the evidence being planted. I for one honestly do not believe that Malvren orchestrated the death of our Weyrwoman, I have other suspicions that I hardly dare consider. I do not think that I will find evidence to confirm what I think but it seems rather neat. Perhaps the aim was not to set the Weyrs at one another's throats, perhaps it was to weaken them, and give somebody waiting on the sidelines a chance at power.

It is said power corrupts; it's not such a leap to see that the desire for it can too.

Wishing you well;

F'itz

Was it wise to write what he had written? Maybe not, but it was done now. He could write a new letter but he was loathe to waste parchment, and perhaps a frank exchange of thoughts would help him think clearer about things in any case.

Decision made he folded the letter and handed it to the waiting black firelizard.