Lord Trasden of Weoth Hold sat on the battlements of the newly formed Hold. With the menace of the Thread growing less with the return of the Dragonriders of old, he had been granted permission by the Conclave to start a new Hold. As the third son , this was his only chance to become a Lord Holder.

He sighed and looked up at the starry skies. He had never wanted to be a Lord Holder, far too much responsibility and far too little freedom. But his father had wanted this and with the burgeoning population at Woldin Hold this was best for his people as well. Shaking his head softly, Trasden strummed the strings of his gitar. He played a soft dance, wondering how things would have been different if he had become a Harper. It was for the best, he thought, changing to a funeral march. I can do more good here than as a Harper. He stopped playing suddenly as his eyes picked out a bright light in the sky where none had been before.

It shone low in the western sky and rapidly grew in brilliance. "A shooting star," he mused. "What to wish for?" His train of thought stopped when he saw that the star was headed towards Weoth Hold. He watched in amazement as it grew in size and brilliance, becoming a ball of fire larger than a queen. Trasden was nearly shaken from his seat when the star slammed into the far side of a hill across the valley. Shaking with excitement, he ran for the stables, calling for his secondman and a troop of guards.

The star had dug out a long smoking trench in the ground before boring into the hillside. Trasden’s secondman, Yorith, was cautiously shining a lamp into the hole.

"It’s amazing," he said, gingerly stepping onto the hot surface of the trench, "I’ve heard of other stars landing, but I never imagined that I’d ever see one." Lamp held high, Yorith stepped into the hole.

Trasden began to follow but was held back by the firm hand of his Guard Chief. "Sorry, my lord," he said, "but it’s too dangerous. "Let Yorith and the guards check it out first and see if it’s safe."

Trasden reluctantly nodded his head. Such was the price of being a Lord Holder, he thought. He looked up when he heard Yorith’s excited whoop. The secondman raced out of the hole, face bursting with excitement. "It’s metal! And not like any I’ve seen before! Come on, it’s perfectly safe, the heat melted the rock into a tunnel," he yelled before running back into the hole.

Accompanied by the contingent of guards, Trasden hurried into the hole, guided by the bobbing lamp of Yorith. He swore in amazement at the sight of the star. It was made of shining metal, like the best steel that the smiths forged. He had always imagined stars to be round, but this star was jaggedly rectangular in shape, as if it had been broken off a larger object. From nearer the star, Yorith whooped again in excitement.

"I think I’ve found a door!" he yelled, almost jumping up and down in glee.

"A door?" Trasden asked, hurrying closer, worried that the heat of the hole had affected his secondman. "Yorith, why would a star have a door?" He stopped as he approached the star. It did have what appeared to be a door. It was a circular opening into the darkness of the star. Yorith was standing by it, holding his lamp up to peer inside.

"Amazing, isn’t it Trasden? To think, stars have doors," he murmured. "I wonder why? Maybe-" he was stopped when something shot out of the door and smashed his lantern. The burning fragments scattered around his feet as he hurriedly backed away. Trasden could feel the guards trying to pull him away as he saw something wrap around Yorith’s body and pull him into the star.

He heard someone yelling at him as he broke free of the guards and ran towards the star, his short sword in his hand. "Yorith!" he yelled into the doorway. He slashed instinctively as something shot out of the doorway. He looked down in horror at the twitching strand of Thread that fell to the ground. He managed to cut two more of the Threads before something wrapped itself around his neck and arm. Trasden clawed for his dagger as he was dragged towards the doorway, the screaming and yelling of his guards filling his ears. The noise faded as darkness closed in on him and another, deeper darkness engulfed him.

Ardeck, Harper by trade, played a quick marching tune on his flute as he rode toward Weoth Hold. His apprentice, Elena, rode just behind him, her hands fully occupied with managing her unruly riding beast. Ardeck turned, the grey hair at his temples catching the morning sun’s rays.

"Elena, remember, use your knees to control the beast," he said, "that way you can work on your piping."

Elena scowled down at the riding beast and dug her knees sharply into its sides. It whuffed and responded by following a straight path down the road, the first time this morning.

"Was there anything you wanted me to work on in particular?" she asked, pulling her pipes from their case.

"You know better than I what you need to work on," Ardeck said, turning back to the road ahead of him.

Elena brought the pipes to her mouth and began the familiar chords of Moreta’s Ride. She had never been able to master the last, sorrowful notes. It rankled her that she, an apprentice Harper, could not play a suitable form of a common ballad, even if she had mastered many other, more difficult ones. Brushing a stray lock of her brown hair out of her eyes, she played the last notes. Still, she could not coax the sadness and sorrow from the pipes she played. Instead of sounding like the mournful dirge of dragons, it sounded more like the crying of a hungry fire lizard. She sighed and was about to start again when Ardeck spoke.

"Look sharp, Elena, there’s Weoth Hold," he said, pointing to the small rocky crag on the right side of the small valley.

Elena slide her pipes back into her belt case as she looked over the valley. The road ran parallel to the valley with a side road winding up the rocky cliff face to the main body of the Hold. A good number of new cotholds were assembled alongside the road in front of the cliff, their stone walls painted a bright white to shine in the morning sun. Elena’s eyes could pick out the shapes of herdbeasts grazing along the valley’s sides and the stalls of a morning market, most likely set up by nearby farmers who had brought their produce to sell. "Everything seems in order from here," she said, reigning her riding beast in next to Ardeck’s. They had stopped on a small rise before the road descended into the valley.

"Ah, but remember, many problems lie below the surface of things," Ardeck said, his eyes scanning the valley.

"I’m surprised they have so much greenery near the Hold."

"Hmmm, yes, it seems to be a calculated risk. He’s likely counting on his firecrews and the dragonriders to keep Thread from settling. With so much pasture close by, his herd beasts will be better than the norm. We’ll have to tell Master Robinton of this, he’ll want to remind the Lord Holders of their duty to keep the hold clear of greenery." He slid his flute back into its case where it hung on his belt. "Let’s get going, I can smell good food cooking and we can’t let it go to waste, can we?" He kicked his riding beast into a canter towards the hold.

The atmosphere of the Hold was surprisingly gloomy considering it was a market day. Usually there was a festive air whenever farmers brought their goods in to sell, with dancing and whatever music was available. Today, there was no such mood in the air. The farmers looked furtive and nervous, as if they expected a Threadfall any moment.

"What do you think is wrong?" Elena whispered to Ardeck as they led their riding beasts towards the main square.

Ardeck frowned for a second. "I don’t know, I’ll travel ahead to the Hold and meet with Lord Trasden. Why don’t you see the sights and get us something to eat? Preferably with a skin of wine," he said.

Elena nodded as Ardeck led his beast up the switchback road to the Hold’s entrance. She looked around the square for an inn or hostel. The owners of such places were doing much worse now that Thread was falling again. She spotted one across the square and led her beast towards it. As she walked, she kept her eyes and ears open for stray bits of conversation which might reveal more about the situation. There was a strained tone to the conversations floating around the square and they seemed to deliberately avoid talking of anything consequential.

She led her riding beast into the inn’s stables and handed its reigns to the young stableboy there. He looked at her suspiciously as he led her beast to a stall and ran off when she tried to talk to him.

Entering the inn, she noticed that the bar room was nearly full with the customers speaking in low, hushed voices. Surprising considering how nice of a day it was outside. Every eye in the room followed her as she walked to the counter and greeted the innkeeper.

"Hello sir, I am Elena, apprentice to Ardeck the Harper. Do you by chance have any rooms available? We are passing through on our way to Benden Weyr and need to stay for the for the night," she said, her voice light and cheerful.

The innkeeper was a man of medium height and stocky build. He scratched his bald head with calloused fingers before responding. "Why don’t you keep going? You should be able to get there tonight," he said in a low voice.

Elena was momentarily taken aback. It seemed against nature that an innkeeper would let marks slip through his fingers. "We have marks to pay, Smithcraft marks."

"Better to keep moving."

"But why? We’ve been riding since before dawn and don’t fancy another twelve hours in the saddle. Don’t you have any rooms?"

"Aye, we do, but-" He stopped and looked at something behind her as a silence fell over the already quiet room. Elena turned and saw that a Hold guard had entered the inn. He was wearing his full suit of wherhide armor despite the warm weather and market day. Unusually, he had a close cap of wherhide that draped down the back of his neck, something that was usually only worn during the winter. Without saying a word, the guard surveyed the room, his gaze resting on Elena and raking over her with insulting forwardness.

Elena was about to challenge his rude behavior when the innkeeper put his hand on her shoulder. She half turned and saw him quickly shake his head before she turned back to the guard. She nearly gasped when she saw that he had moved right next to her without making a sound. She was frozen by surprise when he reached up and grabbed her chin, turning her head from side to side roughly.

Shocked, Elena pulled away from the guard, backing toward the stable door. She was surprised to see the guard calmly study her for a few moments longer and then turn on his heels to exit the inn. "What is going on here?" she asked.

The innkeeper shook his head. "Lord Trasden and his guards have been acting this way for a sevenday now. We don’t know why, maybe his being a Lord went to his head, it’s happened before. Remember Fax?"

There was a round of silent nodding.

"That’s why you should keep going to Benden Weyr," he continued, "we aren’t allowed to go anywhere beyond the valley without armed escort. But you and your master should be able to keep going as long as Trasden doesn’t take special notice of you."

Elena was amazed. Though there were Lords who were cruel, she had never heard of one who had imposed such limitations on his people, especially during a Pass. She shook her head. "My master already went up to the Hold. We were planning to perform for Lord Trasden tonight."

"Well, get your master and go, you’re the only ones with riding beasts besides the guards. Maybe you can get away and tell F’lar and Lessa what’s going on here. A visit from some dragonriders would scare some sense back into Trasden." There were sounds of agreement from around the room.

Elena nodded. "I’ll fetch my master, could you have your stableboy water my riding beast and have it ready? We may have to outrun the guards if they won’t let us by."

The innkeeper nodded. "Good luck, we need help here."

Elena nodded again and walked out of the inn, acutely aware of the eyes following her. She let out a shaky breath when she stood in the square. That would explain the fear, she thought. Ardeck and Master Robinton would definitely want to know of this. She turned and began to walk up the slope towards the Hold. She couldn’t imagine that Lord Trasden would try to keep a pair of Harpers from leaving, he’d get worse than just sanctions, the Conclave of Lords would probably remove him of his rank. She allowed herself a slight smile, this is why we’re here, she thought, to root out troubles like this and keep them from becoming larger. She was so caught up in the pleasure of fulfilling one of the duties of a Harper that she failed to notice the filthy drudge lurking in an narrow alley to her right.

Her reflexive scream was muffled by his hand as he yanked her from the main street and dragged her down the alleyway. The breath went out of her lungs as he slammed her against a wall and looked nervously around. She stared at him in fright, his eyes were wild and he smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in a week. There was old blood crusted around his right temple and a deep cut could be barely seen underneath it. She winced at the feel of a kitchen knife against her throat.

"Don’t say anything," he hissed. "You’ve got to get out of here, it’s worse than what everyone thinks. Lord Trasden, he’s got Thread!" the last word came out as a near scream. "He’s got rooms full of it, he’s mad!" The wild eyed man looked around quickly again. "Don’t trust anybody! They’re in their heads!" He looked towards the main street and jerked back from her. "In their heads!" he yelled as he ran away down the alley.

Elena felt her legs threaten to give out from under her. She rubbed her throat and wiped her mouth, still feeling the grime from the man’s hands on her. In their heads? The man was mad. And dangerous, she thought, still feeling the knife at her throat.

"Where did he go?" a stiff voice said from beside her. Elena jerked in surprise, looking over to see a group of four guards standing in the alley beside her. "Where did the man go?" the guard repeated, his words precisely pronounced, as if he was unused to using them.

"I-" Elena stopped. One of the guards caps was slightly askew and beneath it she thought she saw something moving, something moving beneath the skin of his skull. "I don’t know," she finally said, trying to smile casually. "Would you like a tune?" she asked, holding her pipes up.

The guards stared at her. It became difficult to hold her smile as they surrounded her and one leaned closer to study her face. "Is something wrong?" she managed to say. As suddenly as they had appeared, the guards left, almost gliding as they jogged down the alleyway away from her. Elena sagged in relief and quickly ran out of the alley. She shuddered at the remembrance of something moving under that guard’s skin. She had heard of some parasites that lived in humans from Master Oldive, but never something that large and just under the skin. Elena wiped at the dirt left from the drudge’s fingers as she continued towards the Hold, wondering what exactly was going on. Just as she reached the base of the final stretch of road to the Hold, she heard a loud crash and swearing from above her. She looked up and gaped when she saw Ardeck charging out of the Hold on his riding beast, a guard dragging alongside him. She watched in amazement as the normally gentle and mild mannered Harper smashed his fist into the side of the guards head and sent him tumbling to the road.

"Elena!" Ardeck yelled, still several turns from her, "Get to your beast and go!"

Elena nodded reflexively and turned and sprinted down the hill, dodging between farmer’s stalls and customers. She skidded and nearly lost her footing at the base of the hill in front of the inn. As she staggered to a halt, the group of guards who had confronted her in the alley emerged from the inn, weapons in hand.

"You will stop," the leader said deliberately, his short sword in hand.

Elena hesitated, seeing her riding beast just beyond the guards. Seeing her motion, another guard raised his bow and pointed it at her. The young apprentice looked wildly around her for help, most of the people had fled the square at the appearance of the guards and the few who were left looked too afraid to help her.

"What’s the matter, sir?" she asked in an ingratiating tone. "You don’t need those weapons for someone like me, what could I ever do to you?"

"Run!" The scream came from the inn. Elena saw the drudge who had accosted her burst from the doorway and barrel into the guards. She ran for her beast as the guards struggled with the crazed drudge. Still in stride, she swung into the saddle and kicked her riding beast out the stable doors and into the square, following Ardeck at a gallop. Together, the journeyman and apprentice rode away from the holds. Elena turned at the sound of a scream and saw the drudge lying in a pool of his own blood surrounded by guards with bloodstained weapons.

"He saved me," she yelled to Ardeck over the thundering of their beast’s hooves.

The older Harper nodded curtly and turned to yell at her, "Get down, they’ve got bows!"

A buzz of an arrow emphasized his point and Elena hunched over her beasts shoulders as two more flew by. "Ardeck! Why-" Her question went unfinished when she saw the Harper stiffen and collapse over his saddle, an arrow jutting from his back. Elena felt her heart leap into her throat at the sight of so much blood covering him. Nudging her riding beast, she moved closer and grabbed the reins from his limp hands. With her leading, they pounded up the road and out of the valley towards Benden Weyr.

When she was certain that Weoth’s guards no longer followed them, Elena turned their riding beasts off the road and led them into the scraggly foothills that populated the land near Weoth and Benden.

"Leave me," Ardeck gasped as she did her best to lower him from his beast.

"What? No, I won’t!" she replied, easing him onto his bedroll on his side. "Let me take care of that arrow and we can ride on to Benden Weyr in the morning."

Ardeck grabbed her arm as she readied a heavy knife to cut through the arrow prior to removing the head. "There’s no time!" he hissed. "Lord Trasden has gone mad, I think he’s planning to try to use the Thread as some sort of weapon!"

Elena shushed him as she rolled him over onto his stomach, certain that he was hallucinating from the pain. He grunted as she took a hold on the arrow and began to saw at it with the knife. He was lucky, the arrow had glanced off his shoulder blade and landed away from his lungs. With the help of Master Oldive, Elena was sure that he would recover.

She sighed in relief when she finished cutting the arrow. She carefully tucked away the arrow for evidence against Trasden and his guards before turning back to Ardeck. She bit her lip as she examined the arrow wound closely. The head was sunk deeply into his back and would need to be cut out, but without sufficient numbweed the pain would be excruciating.

"We’ll let the beasts rest a while longer and then continue on to Benden," she finally said. "I don’t want to risk removing the arrow head without help."

"Elena, listen to me," Ardeck said, turning his head to look at her. "I’ll just slow you down, leave me some food and water and help me get under shelter."

"But-"

"No buts, Elena. We can’t risk us both being captured or killed, what I’ve seen is too important. You must get word of this to the dragonriders."

Elena started to say something else but stopped herself. She knew the right course of action to take, however much it tore at her to leave her teacher behind. "Alright," she said, helping Ardeck into the shelter of a rock hollow, "I’ll go." She pulled most of the gear from the riding beasts, leaving just enough food and water for one meal on them. She piled the rest around Ardeck and rolled several large rocks to conceal him better. When she was done she was sweating heavily and panting.

"That’s a good girl," Ardeck said with a wan smile, "you’ll be a journeywoman one day soon."

Elena managed a small smile. "I shouldn’t be longer than ten hours or so," she said, scanning the terrain to fix landmarks for a dragon passing between. "I’ll bring back a dragonrider and we can get you back to Harper Hall and Master Oldive."

Ardeck nodded and waved her away. "Go on now, I’m not getting any better with you just standing there."

Elena gave him a squeeze on his uninjured shoulder and then ran to the waiting riding beasts. She quickly kicked hers into a gallop with Ardeck’s following behind. With a spare riding beast to switch to, she should be at Benden Weyr in less than eight hours.

"They did what?" F’lar shouted as he secured a sack of firestone to Mnementh’s neck.

"Sir, they shot arrows at us," Elena answered, dodging a flying sack of firestone and stepping further away from the edge of the Weyrleader’s ledge.

F’lar, Benden’s Weyrleader, snatched the sack of firestone out of the air and began to tie it to Mnementh. "We’ve got Threadfall coming in off schedule, I can’t spare any dragon from fighting Thread to fetch your master."

"But-"

"From fighting Thread, young lady, from fighting Thread." He turned to Mnementh. "Get A’gon and Tranth up here." He paused. "Yes, I know Manora will be upset but she’ll be even more upset if she finds out I let a Harper bleed to death."

A few minutes later there was a gust of wind as a good sized bronze dragon backwinged and landed on the ledge. The side of its neck and portions of its tail were still bandaged with poultices of numbweed. Elena watched as its rider slid off its neck and landed nimbly on the cavern floor.

"I’m ready to burn some Thread, Weyrleader!" he shouted as he limped over. Elena looked the dragonrider over. He was young, not much older than her, and, she sighed to herself, dashingly handsome. He glanced at her and smiled distractedly, his teeth flashing in the glowlight. "Did Manora change her mind? I told her that I was ready to fight!"

F’lar gestured at him to calm down. "I’m sorry A’gon, you’re going to have to sit this one out," he said, laying a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"But Mnementh said we were needed!" the young dragonrider exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yes, you are," F’lar said as he swung himself onto Mnementh’s neck. "You’re to take this Harper to pick up her teacher. He’s been seriously injured by Weoth Hold’s guards. Once you do that, head to Harper Hall and stay there until Master Oldive says you can travel between again. And be careful, between isn’t good for wounds, I don’t want you or Tranth doing anything foolish."

"But the Thread falls-"

F’lar cut him off with a sharp look. A’gon stiffened and saluted. "I will do as you command, Weyrleader."

F’lar softened his rebuke with a smile. "Good lad, don’t worry, you’ll get your fill of burning Thread soon enough." With that he and Mnementh leapt into the air to join the waiting wings of dragons above Benden Weyr.

A’gon stared after him until the wings disappeared between. He slammed a fist into his palm and cursed loudly. Tranth bugled mournfully from the ledge and flapped his wings dispiritedly.

"Don’t worry," A’gon said to him, "we’ll burn Thread soon. Let’s get this Harper and run this errand." He turned and looked at Elena. "You’re the Harper?" he said incredulously.

Elena stiffened and nodded curtly. "Yes, I am," she said.

A’gon looked her over and shrugged. Pretty, he thought, but she’d be prettier if she stopped slouching and got into some better clothes. "Well, let’s go," he said, climbing onto Tranth’s back.

Elena moved to follow him and stopped hesitantly. "Umm," she said, "how do I-" she stopped, embarrassed.

A’gon rolled his eyes and extended his hand to her. "Put your foot on Tranth’s knee there," he said, "and-" he grabbed her arm and hauled her up before him. "There, now hold on."

Elena barely had time to settle herself in front of the dragonrider before Tranth leapt into the air with a strong beat of wings. Her stomach lurched as they rose sharply and leveled off for the shift between. "Where are we going?" A’gon asked, tightening his grip around her waist as Tranth banked and caught a thermal for altitude.

Elena gulped at the feel of the dragonrider’s arms steadying her on the dragon’s back. While she knew she should be paying attention to the breathtaking sight of a sunset on dragonback, she couldn’t help but focus on the young dragonrider holding her. "Well?" he repeated, causing her to flush in embarrassment.

"The rocky barrens just north of Weoth Hold," she finally said.

"Right, I’ve been over it on patrols," A’gon said. He paused to brush her hair from his face before telling Tranth to go between.

Elena felt A’gon sweeping her hair away to the side of her neck. For a brief thrilling moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but then she realized that her hair was flying free and had been flapping against his face.

She heard A’gon shout a warning to her and then they were between. The void filled her senses with its emptiness, she clutched to the riding straps that she knew were beneath her hands but that she could not feel as she silently counted. Just as suddenly as they had gone between they were out. She shivered violently as the she felt the aftereffect of the cold, behind her she could hear A’gon grunting in discomfort as the cold irritated the Threadscores on his arm and leg.

"There!" she yelled, pointing towards the large boulder with the overhang that sheltered Ardeck.

"Tranth see’s him," A’gon said as they descended sharply. He yelled in irritation as Elena’s hair flew back to blind him again. "Can’t you do something with your hair?" he snapped, more harshly than he intended because of the pain of his Threadscores.

Elena flushed again, this time in anger at the dragonrider’s tone, and gathered her hair in a quick knot at the side of her neck. Her anger disappeared as she caught sight of Ardeck’s limp body by the boulder. She leapt from Tranth’s neck before the dragon had finished landing and rushed to the older Harper’s side. He was deathly pale and still as she knelt by him. She reached out to check his pulse and sighed in relief when she felt a weak but steady beat in his neck.

"Is he still alive?" A’gon asked as he quickly limped to her.

"Yes, but only barely, we’ve got to get him to a healer as soon as possible," Elena replied, her voice tight with anxiety.

"He looks too bad to move, I’ll go get Master Oldive and bring him back here-" he stopped as his head snapped up to look back at Tranth. "Tranth says that there’s guards coming on riding beast." He stopped again. "They’ve got bows and weapons." A’gon turned back to Elena. "Stay here, we’ll scare them off."

"Be careful, they’re not acting rationally."

A’gon flashed her a smile. "They won’t be once they see me and Tranth in action." He climbed onto Tranth’s neck and was flying in a flash. Tranth’s bronze scales caught the last traces of daylight as the sun set over the horizon, his wings pumping as he soared into the air.

From his seat on Tranth’s neck, A’gon could see the forms of the guards on riding beasts below. There were six of them, each armed with a rare and valuable bow and quiverfull of arrows. Let’s scare them off, he silently told Tranth. The dragon bugled in anticipation as he tucked his wings back and dove towards the guards. A’gon expected the guards to scatter at the first sound of a dragon as their riding beasts panicked. He was surprised to see the guards leap off their stampeding beasts with their bows at the ready. Careful, he thought to Tranth as they dove closer to the ground.

They were just dragonlengths from the guards when arrows were loosed from bows. A’gon ducked his head as an arrow whipped by him, astonished that anyone would dare to attack a dragon. He was about to shout a challenge to the guards when he heard Tranth’s roar of pain. The dragonrider craned his head and saw that an arrow had pierced the sensitive membrane of Tranth’s wing, leaving a patch of hide dangling and bleeding in the air.

The normally gentle dragon roared in fury and whipped its tail at the guards as he flew overhead. It lashed into one guard, smashing him into the ground with bonebreaking force. A’gon ordered Tranth back up into the air and away from the guards, already nocking new arrows in their bows.

Are you all right? A’gon thought to Tranth. I hurt, the dragon responded, his thoughts full of pain at the betrayal from those whom he was bred to protect.

"Don’t worry," A’gon yelled, "let’s get back to the girl, we’d better get her and the Harper out of here before those guards can get to her." The bronze dragon flapped hard and wheeled about to fly back to Elena and Ardeck. Neither dragon nor rider saw the fallen guard rise, silvery Thread whipping from his wounds.

Elena looked up at the sound of Tranth roaring. She bit her lower lip nervously, wondering what could have possessed the guards to attack a Harper. Even Lord Fax had never tried to kill one of their number and he had paid for challenging a dragonrider with his life.

She was snapped from her reverie by the beating of dragonwings. Tranth and A’gon had landed next to the boulder with A’gon leaping from his place on the dragon’s neck and nearly crumpling because of his injured leg. Elena ran to him and caught him around the neck as he cursed vehemently.

"Those addle brained wherries shot at us!" he yelled, shaking her off to limp towards Ardeck.

"They shot at you? At a dragonrider?" Elena gasped.

"Yes!" The dragonrider slammed his fist into his palm. "We’ll need to move your teacher, those guards must be insane and they’re not scared of a full grown dragon. If they tried to kill you both once, they’ll try again."

"But the cold-"

A’gon shook his head. "We’ll have to risk it, you’ll both be dead if you stay."

Elena nodded, feeling her heart thumping with worry as she began to carefully wrap Ardeck in blankets to protect him from the worst of the cold between. "Can Tranth carry him?" she asked A’gon.

A’gon drummed his fingers on his thigh before answering. "Yes, but we’ll need to secure him, Tranth won’t be able to feel him between and might let go accidentally."

They both shuddered at the thought of being lost between. "There’s rope in that saddlebag," Elena said, "I’ve wrapped him in every blanket and bedroll we have. Hopefully the cold won’t hurt him too much."

Together they hurriedly tied Ardeck to one of Tranth’s foreclaws. The dragon bugled softly in objection to having a person tied to his claw but allowed them to do it. When done, they stood back to check their handiwork. Ardeck lay cocooned in blankets and bedrolls with his wound carefully covered and bandaged.

"We’d better get going, they’ll be on us soon if they didn’t bother to fetch their riding beasts," A’gon said, climbing onto Tranth’s neck.

Elena nodded and gave one last tug on the ropes securing Ardeck before letting A’gon help her climb in front of him. She wasn’t even aware this time of him brushing her hair out of his face before giving Tranth the order to fly. The bronze let out a loud breath in complaint as the motion of flying tugged at his wounded wing flap. From where she was seated before him, Elena could see A’gon pat Tranth reassuringly on the neck.

"Get down!" yelled A’gon as a arrow whizzed by them. Elena felt a sting in her upper right arm as another arrow streaked by. She was about to say something when they went between.

The body of Lord Trasden of Weoth Hold sat on the battered control chair salvaged from the wreckage that had crashed nearby only a sevenday ago. The thing occupying his mind idly toyed with the now useless controls. With its other hand it held a glass jar of writhing Thread.

"Archon Cor’ Eln, we have diverted the Threadfall and collected twelve a’ghasts of it," Lictor Cor’ Siyg said from the body of the Lord’s secondman, Yorith. "We are letting it grow together as you have commanded."

"Good, how long until the ship is completed?"

"Half an orbit of this planet."

"Satisfactory, continue to gather Thread when you can."

"Yes, Archon."

"You are dismissed. Send in the human."

Cor’ Siyg bowed and retreated from the great hall of Weoth Hold. As he left the hall, he passed a human dressed in noble finery. With a curt gesture, he motioned for the human to enter the hall and closed the door behind him.

"What are you called, human?" Cor’ Eln asked, rolling the jar of Thread in his hands.

"I am Ordon of Nabol Hold," the human said, bowing with a flourish.

"What do you want?"

"I wish to serve."

"Why?" Cor’ Eln was curious. Humanity had the amusing quality of being willing to hasten their own destruction because of their greed. Apparently the trait was racial, he had found it across the galaxy.

"For power, my lord."

"Power? Over who?"

Ordon looked up, hate blazing in his eyes. "Over F’lar and Lessa of Benden Weyr," he spat. "They humiliated my father, they are jealous of him." Ordon seethed inwardly, how he hated the smug Weyrleader and his bitch, he hated his siblings with only a little less fire, hated them for squabbling and tearing for their inheritance, for knowing no respect for their sire.

"F’lar and Lessa?" Cor’ Eln searched the mind of its body. Respected leaders of the only group which could pose a threat to him. "What do you wish to do to them?"

"Grind the his face into the dirt and treat his whore like the slut she is!" Ordon spat, his face flushing an ugly red.

"How do you wish to do this?"

"They brought dragonriders," he spat the word, "from the past. The Oldtimers don’t like having F’lar around. If I can get men and weapons, they won’t object should F’lar and Lessa meet an untimely accident." Ordon smiled and rubbed at his dagger’s handle.

Cor’ Eln studied the human’s face. "Why do you need me then? Surely you have men loyal to you and weapons for them?"

"I need more powerful weapons, those dragons they ride are fearsome. They can tear a herdbeast apart like a piece of grass. I’ve heard that you possess bows and more powerful weapons."

Cor’ Eln smiled slightly. Weapons, he thought. The wreckage of his craft still had a working spinner. With it, he had been able to restructure the common silicates of the planet’s surface into a fiber suitable for production of primitive weapons. He had Cor’ Siyg working on assembling the magnetic drivers for a rail cannon when he was not gathering Thread. Even his own sidearm would be more powerful than any weapon on the planet. "Yes, I do possess these weapons. And I will let you use them. For a price, of course."

Ordon’s face shone with greed. "Anything, my lord."

"I require your services in several areas and your men must be brought here to be equipped."

"Of course. What would you have me do?"

"Fetch," he paused to search his body’s mind, "courtesans. It has been too long since I enjoyed a woman."

Ordon seemed surprised by his request. "Surely there are comely women here-"

Yes, there are, thought Cor’ Eln. But they do not have the knowledge that I desire. "I desire courtesans, from the Hall."

"It will take a while, they’ll have to travel over land from the nearest crafthall."

"Very well, I have time. Go then, and summon your most loyal men to be outfitted here."

"Yes, my lord. Thank you."

Cor’ Eln waved the human out of the hall. He called out to the human just as he was reaching the door. "Ordon?"

"Yes?" the man called back.

Cor’ Eln threw the jar of Thread towards him. Ordon screamed as the jar shattered on the floor before him and the Thread writhed upwards in a hissing coil.

"Do not seek to betray me, Ordon," Cor’ Eln said calmly. "Or-" he flicked his right hand. The Thread darted towards an unlucky rat creeping along the far edge of the hall. It squeaked once, pitifully, before the Thread devoured it, writhing through the unfortunate animal’s body before bursting forth again in a bloody shower. Within seconds even the blood of the rat had been absorbed and a pile of gleaming Thread lay in its place. "The process takes much longer if I wish it. For you it could take days."

Ordon gulped and bowed again. Sweat rolled down his face as he watched the Thread slither across the floor to coil around Lord Trasden’s neck like a faithful fire lizard. He bowed again and slid out of the room, almost slamming the door in his eagerness to be away from the hall.

Elena had never seen Harper Hall from the air. It was a beautiful sight in the early evening sun, the walls reflecting golden highlights and reddish hues. In their trip between, she, Ardeck, A’gon, and Tranth had traveled almost the length of the continent, catching up to the sun. She sighed and wished she was in a better mood to appreciate it as they spiraled down toward the Hall.

"I’m going to land inside the square," A’gon said.

"Good idea," she answered, "it would be best to move Ardeck as little as possible. Can you tell the watchdragon why we’re here? He can alert the Hall."

A’gon nodded and asked Tranth to do so. In a few short moments they had landed in Harper Hall, much to the amusement of those at dinner in the Great Hall.

"What is going on out here?" Elena heard the clear baritone of Master Robinton echo across the square. She looked up and saw him leaning out of his window with journeywoman Menolly and journeyman Sebell on either side of him.

"I’m sorry, sir, but journeyman Ardeck has been hurt!" Elena yelled, feeling tears welling in her eyes.

"What?! Where’s Master Oldive? Someone-"

"I’m right here, Robinton," Master Oldive yelled as he hurried from the doors of the Great Hall carrying his bag of medicines. "Quick, get a stretcher!" he snapped at the gawking apprentices and journeymen crowded in the doorway. "What happened?" he asked as he approached the dismounting pair.

"Journeyman Ardeck was shot with an arrow by Weoth Hold’s guards!" Elena cried. She brushed her eyes with the back of her sleeve, the horror of what had happened finally catching up to her. She felt A’gon lay a comforting hand on her shoulder as Ardeck was untied from Tranth’s carefully raised claw.

Master Oldive clucked his tongue at the sight of the wound, still with the end of the arrow jutting out. "He’ll live," he said, "but he won’t be playing the gitar anytime soon." He looked up as the stretcher was brought out and Ardeck was loaded into it. As he followed it at a quick walk he looked over his shoulder and yelled, "Get Silvina to look at those wounds, dragonrider!"

"Silvina?" asked A’gon as the crowd began to mill around them.

"She’s the headwoman," Elena answered. She was about to say more but was interrupted by a fair of fire lizards flying overhead to greet Tranth. Their noisy greetings and exclamations were soon joined by the shouted questions of apprentice and master alike. Elena felt her head spin, she hadn’t had time to eat since morning and had been on riding beast all day. She tried to keep upright, she didn’t want to faint in front of the entire Hall, but blackness crowded in on her vision and she felt herself falling.

She heard a distant voice yelling at her as she fell. "Hey! Girl, Harper!" It was A’gon yelling. He doesn’t know my name, she thought as strong arms stopped her fall. "She’s hurt! Stay with us, girl! Stay with-" was the last she heard.

Elena blinked slowly and stared up at the ceiling. She could feel the pleasant warmth of heavy comforters around her and heard a fire crackling in the hearth. She muzzily tried to remember what had happened, all she remembered was fainting and someone carrying her.

"Glad to see you’re awake," A’gon said from the far side of the room. He stood and hobbled over to her with a cane, his right leg swathed in fresh bandages. "Your headwoman, Silvina, she said that you lost a lot of blood. That’s why you fainted."

Elena struggled to sit up. "Ardeck, how is he?" she asked as A’gon eased her back onto the bed.

"He’ll be fine after he gets some rest. Master Oldive said he’d check in on you later." A’gon turned to leave the young Harper alone. He stopped by the door when she called out to him.

"Elena," she said, "that’s my name. You called me girl."

A’gon smiled and nodded. "Elena. A pretty name for a pretty girl. Get well soon, Elena," he said, softly closing the door behind him.

Elena felt heat flood her face and realized that she was blushing. She settled deeper into the covers and sighed softly. As she drifted off again she remembered the feel of his hand on her hair and his arms tight around her waist. When Master Oldive checked in on her, he found her sleeping easily with a contented smile on her face.

She woke the next morning to the sounds of an argument just outside the door.

"-need to speak with her!" She recognized the voice as Master Robinton’s. She hoped that he wasn’t angry with her.

"Not until she wakes up, she needs all the sleep she can get!" This voice was Silvina’s.

"Silvina, my love, you can be the most irritating-"

"Quiet! You’ll wake her!"

"Someone tried to kill a Harper! This is a matter of the utmost emergency."

"Another hour won’t matter. I know your curiosity is killing you, but you can wait until the poor girl wakes up."

"I am the Master Harper, woman."

"And I am the Headwoman, man."

Elena heard Master Robinton sigh.

"Very well," he said. "I’ll let her sleep, but, so this won’t be a complete waste of time-"

Elena heard a soft sigh and a giggle. There was a long silence and then a small thump on the door.

"Master Robinton? Silvina?" Elena called out. She heard a gasp and the sound of some hurried activity. The door was swung open by Robinton, his traditional garb slightly skewed. Behind him, Elena could see Silvina tucking her hair back in place behind her ears.

"Elena, I’m glad to see you’re awake. You must be famished," he said, pulling up a chair next to the bed. "Silvina, could you-?" Already the Headwoman had left for the kitchens to fetch some food.

"Master Robinton? How is journeyman Ardeck?" Elena asked quietly.

"He’ll be fine, he’ll be fine," he said, patting her on the shoulder. "Could you tell me exactly what happened at Weoth Hold? Harpers have been attacked before, but never with such murderous intent."

Elena started to tell the events that had happened at Weoth Hold. She had gotten to when Ardeck had ridden out of the Hold when Silvina arrived with a tray full of food. Elena continued to tell her story, almost laughing when Master Robinton tried to filch a hotcake and had his hand slapped by Silvina.

"-and that’s when I fainted," she finished.

"Interesting. Ardeck didn’t say anything of what he saw in the Hold?"

"No."

"You saw something moving beneath the skin of those guards, the ones who were acting strangely?"

"Yes, sir. But, I might have imagined it."

"No, I don’t think you did. Inside their heads," he mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I don’t want to monopolize your time, I believe you have several other visitors. I’ll be back later. Stay well." Master Robinton smiled at her and walked out of the room, followed closely by Silvina. Elena could hear the Headwoman telling someone else to mind their manners as she walked away.

Elena smiled broadly at the sight of two filthy apprentices standing in the doorway. "Alden, Taia," she said, motioning them in.

"We heard you got hit with an arrow," Alden said as he sat. He scratched his head and a cloud of dust flew up. The apprentice’s face was covered with dirt and dust. A pair of bright green eyes could be seen peering from the mask of dirt he wore. His hair, usually brown, was darkened by the accumulation of dust gathered from the depths of the Harper’s archives.

"We missed you," Taia said, pulling up another chair. The younger girl was covered with dust and dirt from the ancient records stored at Harper Hall. Her long blonde hair was pinned into the usual bun behind her head. If she ever washed it and combed it out, it would be the envy of the other girls. This wasn’t likely to happen, Taia shared Alden’s fascination with the creation of a new type of ballad and the recreation of ancient musical instruments to perform it.

"What have you two been up to?" Elena asked.

Alden answered, "We’ve been searching through the old records. I’m sure that I can build that instrument now, especially if I can get the wood I need."

"The, what was it called?"

"Piano," Taia answered. "It’ll be great!" she exclaimed, "We’ve nearly finished the score for the play! Once we get Master Robinton’s permission we can start assigning parts!"

"I wonder if Menolly will be willing to play herself," Alden wondered, staring off into space. "Hmmm, that may be a problem."

"If we ask her to play herself, we’ll have to ask every Harper to play themselves in the play," continued Taia.

"And that’ll put the most appreciative members of the audience on the stage," Alden finished. "We’ll just have to get someone else to play her, then." Alden rested his chin on his hand as he pondered the decision. "Oh! Elena, we came by to drop off the parts for you to look over."

"Me?" she said, "But I can’t compose very well."

"Not to compose, silly," Taia said, "to read. We’ll need good singers to play Lessa, Kylara, and Brekke."

"I think you’d be perfect to play Kylara," Alden said, pulling a sheaf of papers from his vest. He thumbed through them until he pulled an inkstained page from the pile and handed it to Elena. "You’ve got a sexy voice and I’m sure you could sound like a seductress." He prattled on, oblivious to Elena’s rising embarrassment. She stared furiously at the score and lyrics for Kylara’s part as Alden said something about learning to dance.

"Dance?" she asked. "Why?"

"For when Kylara tries to seduce F’lar and F’nor," Taia said. "We’re not really sure exactly what the dance will be like. We’re thinking of calling in Mistress Devala. She should have some good suggestions."

"Mistress Devala?" Elena asked, wondering if she was still delirious from her wound.

"Oh, yes," Alden said, "she’s the head of the Courtesans. I heard from Sebell that they all know how to dance very well."

"Courtesans?"

"We’re not sure if we want to bother her yet," Taia said, "at least not until we have some basic steps worked out." She jumped to her feet and pulled Alden up. "Something like this, maybe." She took Alden’s extended hand and stepped closer to him, leaning over and then leaning far back before spinning into his arms. She stood facing away from him, her hands running down the sides of her body as she slinked backward towards him. Alden took her shoulders as she pressed herself back against him. Taia squirmed against Alden’s body for a few moments longer, her hips rotating lewdly, before stopping and stepping away. "Well? What do you think?"

Elena had her eyes squeezed shut and was blushing furiously. "That was the most wicked thing I’ve ever seen!" she finally said, after making sure that they had stopped.

"Really? I suppose we did alright then, didn’t we?" Alden said, scratching his head.

Elena looked up at the two other apprentices. She would be surprised to see a married couple acting in such a wanton and lascivious way, much less two apprentices who, despite their age, had never shown any interest in anything other than the archives. Alden and Taia didn’t seem to be affected by their dancing at all. They both had curious looks on their faces, as if they were wondering why she was in such a state. Elena bit her lip, she could still see Taia rubbing herself against Alden.

"Elena? Are you all right?" Alden asked. "Should we get Master Oldive, you’re breathing hard."

"I’m fine," she said weakly.

"Oh, well, we’ll let you rest. Look over the score though, will you?"

Elena nodded weakly and watched as they left, already deep in discussion of how much wood it would take to build their piano. She let out a shaky breath and began to look over Kylara’s score. As she read the notes she could hear the music being played as Kylara sung. A low moan from horns and violins introduced her with a single wild violin serving as her characterization. Elena’s eyes widened as she read the lyrics. If these were sung, there’d be a riot! Not to mention the fact that she was sure that Alden and Taia had made up some of these things. She had to reread one verse until she finally figured out what it was referring to and then she blushed deeply. She hadn’t even known that a people would do that, where had Alden and Taia come up with these lyrics? Women lying with women, indeed. How ridiculous.

Elena looked over at the door, still slightly ajar. She slid out of bed, wearing only a tunic and padded over to close and lock the door. She slid back into bed and slid almost all the way under the covers before hiking her tunic up over her breasts. Her breath quickened as she realized what she was going to do. She rolled over onto her stomach and tucked her pillow under her as she set the lyrics against the head of the bed where she could easily read them.

She began to lightly rub herself as she read the lyrics again, imagining it was the handsome dragonrider who was doing these things to her that Kylara sung about.

"Hands and knees," she moaned, her fingers flying faster over herself. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she neared the end of the song. "Oh, shards!" she panted, feeling herself climax. She buried her face in the covers and bit down to stifle her gasping cries. Her body limp, she hoped that no one would walk in on her like this as she fell asleep.

A’gon lazily scratched Tranth’s eye ridges with a long stick as they lay by the lake. It had been a beautiful sevenday while they waited for their wounds to heal enough for them to go between and return to Benden Weyr. A’gon yawned and scratched his chest, still damp from his swim. He’d be sad to go, the food here was excellent as well as the company. That pretty Harper girl, Elena, he thought. He wondered if she had anyone, probably did, given how she looked. His thoughts were interrupted by the beat of small wings and excited chirping. Ducking, he smiled at the sight of a fair of fire lizards diving in the cool waters of the lake.

"Care to head back?" he asked Tranth.

It is getting late, the dragon answered.

"Right, let’s get going then." He pulled on his shirt and boots before standing up and looking down the slope of the hill towards Harper Hall. He thought he could see the smoke from the cooking fires for dinner. If they hurried, they’d be back in time get their food hot. As they were setting out, A’gon stopped for a moment to gather a bunch of wildflowers.

"A gift for Elena," he explained to Tranth.

A’gon arrived at the Great Hall just as the Masters were making their entrance. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, clothes still damp and dusty, looking for a place to sit. He was relieved to see Elena waving him over to a seat by the hearth.

"Thanks for saving me a seat," he said as he slid onto the bench across from her.

"Oh, yes, you’re welcome," she said, distracted by the plates of sliced herdbeast being passed down the table.

"Could you pass the tubers?" A’gon asked a black-haired girl sitting next to Elena. She giggled and blushed as she passed his the plate. "So, how’s Ardeck doing?" he asked Elena.

The Harper’s face fell. "He’s still unconscious with a fever. Master Oldive says that the arrow was made out of something other than wood. Whatever it is, it’s causing an infection. Master Oldive says that it’ll take another week before he’s fully out of it."

"I’m sorry to hear that."

Elena nodded. A’gon watched amusedly as the black-haired girl nudged her and whispered something in her ear. Elena blushed and shook her head violently, the motion making a lock of her hair come untucked from behind her ear. "Oh," he said, picking up the bunch of flowers from the bench. "Here," he said as he handed them across the table to Elena. "I thought you’d like them."

The black-haired girl sighed deeply as she looked at the flowers and then leaned over to whisper in Elena’s ear again. Her eyes widened and she shot the girl a surprised look.

"Thank you, A’gon," Elena said, smelling the flowers before gently setting them out of the way on the table.

A’gon shrugged. "You’re welcome. I’d get some for any pretty girl." He turned his head to the black-haired girl. "I’ll be sure to get you some the next time," he said with a wink. The girl nearly swooned and spent the rest of the meal furtively looking at him while eating. "Elena, I was wondering if-" He was interrupted by the sound of Master Robinton calling for silence.

"A’gon," the Master Harper said, "could you please come with me to my chambers? I need to discuss a matter of utmost importance with you." He turned to leave. "Ah, and Elena, please stop by after dinner."

"Duty calls," A’gon said as he stood. As he turned to leave he plucked up a single flower from the bunch and leaned over to tuck it behind Elena’s ear. "Beauty compliments beauty," he said with a smile before trotting after Robinton.

"Elena, you’re sooo lucky," he heard the black-haired girl say. "Why don’t dragonriders bring me flowers?"

Elena bit her lip nervously as she stood outside the door to Master Robinton’s quarters. He had asked her to come up after dinner, she hoped she hadn’t done something wrong. Her hand was unsteady as she knocked lightly at the door.

"Yes? Come in," she heard Master Robinton say.

She was surprised to see the dragonrider who had brought her to Harper Hall sitting by Master Robinton. The dragonrider’s hair was still damp from his daily swims. She had been swimming in the lake on a restday when he had first gone up there with Tranth. Elena looked away when the dragonrider felt her gaze and turned toward her, feeling her heart beat faster.

"Elena, I’ve got something I need you to do," Master Robinton’s voice snapped her from her thoughts.

"Yes, sir," she said, wondering what he needed.

"I hate to send someone as young as you out on a mission like this, but-" Robinton trailed off, remembering Piemur, who had been far younger than Elena when he had stolen a fire lizard egg from Lord Meron and ended up on the Southern Continent. "But it is of vital importance. I need you to go back to Weoth Hold and gather more information about what is going on there."

Elena paled at the thought of going back to that place where guards acted like animals. "I, yes, yes, sir," she finally said. "How will I get there? It’s a long journey by riding beast."

"I took the liberty of contacting F’lar of Benden Weyr, he’s agreed to lend us the services of A’gon here."

The dragonrider seemed more surprised to hear this than Elena was. His mouth worked soundlessly while Robinton continued. "I’ve also spoken to Mistress Devala, Craftmaster of the Courtesans, apparently Lord Trasden of Weoth Hold has requested the company of a good number of these ladies."

"But what does that have to do with finding out what’s going on at Weoth?"

"I want you to go along with the Courtesans and pretend to be one of them. They’ll be given access to the Hold proper, hopefully you’ll be able to find what Ardeck saw. He still hasn’t been awake long enough to tell us what he saw."

Elena’s eyes widened. "The, Courtesans? Sir, I-"

"I know it will be dangerous, and I’m damning myself for sending you in there, but you’re the only female Harper who could pose as a Courtesan. Menolly’s too well known and everyone else is too young." He stood and patted her on the shoulder. "Don’t worry, the Courtesans are almost as good as us in gathering information, they know how to avoid being caught. Mistress Devala promised to send her best women, they’ll look out for you." He sighed. "If you don’t want to do this, I understand. I can’t force you to go and you won’t be punished for not going. It has to be your decision."

Elena looked down at the floor and thought hard. She glanced up at the dragonrider, he seemed to be fuming in anger. She looked back to Master Robinton. "I’ll do it, sir. They tried to kill Ardeck and they tried to kill me. The Egg only knows what they’ll try to do next if we don’t stop them."

Robinton smiled broadly and clapped her on the back. "I knew you’d be up to it, Ardeck told me a lot about you." He glimpsed Elena’s worried face and laughed. "Don’t worry, it was all good!" The Master Harper turned back to his desk and picked up a piece of paper with a map carefully drawn on it. He handed it to A’gon with a smile. "Here’s where the Courtesans will meet you, they’ll be there tonight so you’ll have to be ready soon." He shook his head, still smiling. "Lad, any dragonrider can fight Thread, only a few get to say they’ve helped the Harpers!" This didn’t seem to comfort A’gon much.

Elena met A’gon on the meadow outside Harper Hall. She had brought along a spare set of clothes as well as her pipes, gitar, and the scores that Alden and Taia had dropped off for her to read earlier that day. She wasn’t quite sure exactly what Courtesans did, she had a vague idea that they entertained men with dance and song. If that was the case she wanted her pipes and gitar with her so she could play them something. She wasn’t sure about the dancing though.

"Ready?" A’gon asked from his place on Tranth. The dragonrider had been sulking for the past few hours, upset that he had missed another chance to fight Thread. Tranth had had to empty a riding beast trough on his head before he had snapped out of it. He sighed and offered his hand to the Harper girl, pulling her up before him on Tranth’s neck.

There were worse things to be doing, he thought as she settled into place. Elena was pleasant company and perhaps he would have the chance to pay back the guards for shooting at him with their bows. He smiled when he noticed that Elena had neatly tied her hair in a bun to keep it from flying in his face. As Tranth leapt into the air, some strange impulse made him lean forward and smell her hair, fresh and smelling of sweetsand. He held his arms around her a little closer than necessary as they went between, changing the their destination at the last moment to give him a little more time in the air with her.

They had found the camp easily enough, with Tranth’s keen eyes spotting the Courtesan’s cook fires from the moment they had left between. A’gon had received a warm welcome when they landed, Elena thought as she looked up from her plate to where he sat surrounded by the courtesans.

"So what’s it like to fly?" one was asking him.

"It’s freedom, pure freedom," he said, sighing in pleasure as one of the Courtesans massaged his neck. On the other side of the clearing Tranth was getting his eye ridges thoroughly scratched by another group of Courtesans and rumbling in pleasure.

There were fifteen of the Courtesans, evenly spread out between Tranth, A’gon, and cleaning up the remains of dinner. Elena scowled into her slice of wherry and set her plate aside.

It was impossible to keep an appetite with A’gon and the Courtesans making so much noise. She clenched her fists when at the sight of one of the Courtesans moving to sit in A’gon’s lap, without any objection on his part.

"Was something wrong with your wherry?" Aula, the leader of the group of Courtesans, asked as she approached Elena.

Elena looked up at her and smiled wanly. "No, no, nothing was wrong with it, I’m just not very hungry," she said, gesturing for Aula to sit down.

Aula shook out her long red hair as she took a seat by Elena. The Harper felt an unfamiliar twinge of jealousy at the sight of the woman. The Courtesan was beautiful, with full breasts and a slender frame, her shapely legs visible under her skirt. With her long legs, it was no wonder that men would pay her to dance, Elena thought.

"Um, how long have you been a Courtesan?" Elena asked at last.

"Hmm? About seven turns now, since I had seventeen turns," Aula answered.

"Do you enjoy it?"

Aula nodded enthusiastically. "It was that or end up gutting fish for the rest of my life."

"You’re from a Sea Hold?"

"Yes, Glass Water Hold, it’s towards the south. I get back there every couple of Turns, my family thinks I’m a dancer."

"But aren’t you? A dancer, I mean?"

Aula turned to study the girl closely. "Yes, I am a, ah, dancer, I do other things though."

"Oh, yes, you sing, don’t you?"

The Courtesan smirked, "Yes, we sing as well," she winked at Elena, "the men really like it when we sing for them."

Elena paused while she gathered her courage. "Do you think you could teach me to dance? They don’t teach us how to do that at Harper Hall. I mean, not formally, but I need to know how if I’m going to get this part for a new play-" She trailed off, blushing again at blurting out so much.

"What part?"

"Oh, um, Kylara. I don’t think I’ll get it, but-" She stopped when she noticed Aula scrutinizing her face and shifted uncomfortably.

"Kylara, hmm? You’re going to dance on stage? In front of an audience? Pretending to be her?"

"Yes, and sing. I’m good at singing."

Aula smiled and said, "Singing and dancing, on stage. Interesting. I’ll have to tell Mistress Devala about this, she’ll want to know that we’re going to be having some competition from the Harpers." She moved closer to Elena and leaned over, her hands supporting her and plucking at the grass of the clearing. "I know I’d see that play, especially if you were in it. Although, when I first saw you, I didn’t think you’d be the type to perform in front of an audience."

Elena cocked her head. "Really? We all have to perform in front of an audience from almost the time we arrive at Harper Hall, at the very least a teacher."

Aula raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I should have been a Harper, it certainly sounds like fun."

"It is, except, sometimes," Elena leaned over and continued in a conspiratory whisper, "sometimes we get switched, but Master Robinton doesn’t like that and he’s ordered that it be stopped." Elena saw that Aula’s eyes were wide and she was breathing heavily. I hope she’s all right, it won’t do if she’s ill, she thought.

By the Egg, Aula thought, I never knew Harper Hall was such a debauched place. She licked her lips and asked, "Do you do it in groups?"

"Of course, we all have to learn how to perform in groups. We do it all the time."

"So, do you prefer to, ah, perform, with girls or boys?"

"Well, there aren’t too many other girls at Harper Hall right now, so I usually perform with boys. But I perform with boys and girls when I can. Master Robinton says we sound better when we do that."

Aula gasped and tore a clump of grass from beneath her hands at the image. She looked around the clearing, the dragonrider was still busy telling stories to the other girls and the dragon had rolled onto his back to have his belly scratched. "Come on, I’ll teach you how to dance now," she said, pulling Elena to her feet and toward the forest. Dance until you scream, she thought silently, feeling desire flooding her.

Elena stumbled alongside her and then stopped. "Why do we need to go into the forest?"

Aula gaped at the girl, she had thought that she was a wanton, but this girl was amazing. "You’d do it right in front of everyone?" Then she stopped. The Harper was going to be Kylara in front of an audience, of course she wouldn’t mind screwing in front of other people. "I don’t want to bother the other girls," Aula said and tugged Elena into the forest, her other hand already loosening the ties of her dress.

The Courtesan pulled Elena back into the forest until the fire was barely visible and stopped. The forest floor was covered with a soft covering of grass and leaves, soft enough for bare skin to lie on.

Elena looked around the small clearing they had arrived in. It didn’t seem large enough to really dance in, but perhaps the dances Aula knew didn’t require much room. "What type of dances did-?" She stopped in amazement. Aula had stripped naked and stood in front of her, the moonlight gleaming on her bare body. "What-?" she began and was stopped by the hungry press of Aula’s lips to hers.

Elena staggered backwards until she bumped against a tree, Aula still clinging to her. Her eyes darted from side to side as she felt Aula slip her tongue into her mouth. She gasped when Aula took her hand and brought it between the Courtesan’s thighs. Elena felt a warm, hot moisture there, exactly like the kind she had felt between her own legs a sevenday ago.

"Show me how well you’ve learned to sing," Aula said, her voice husky as she drew back and pressed down on Elena’s shoulders.

Elena slipped out from underneath Aula’s hands and cried out, "But you said you were going to teach me to dance!"

Aula shivered and pressed her naked body against Elena’s. "Fine," she said, "I’ll show you." With that she grabbed the waist of Elena’s breeches and tugged down hard on them.

Elena gave a shriek of surprise as Aula tugged her breeches down to her ankles, leaving her drawers exposed in the night air. "What are you doing?" she yelled, trying to pull up her fallen breeches.

Aula gave an exasperated snort and crossed her arms under her breasts. "Trying to show you how to dance," she said. "I can’t do that if you won’t let me get to your quim."

"What are you talking about? You don’t need to be naked to dance?"

"Maybe not fully but some parts have to be accessible-" Aula stopped and reddened. "You don’t mean fuck, do you? You really thought we danced..." She trailed off, reddening further and snatched up her dress. "Shards!" she cursed as she pulled it over her head. "I suppose you really meant singing, didn’t you?"

Elena had pulled up her breeches and stepped outside of Aula’s reach. "Yes, singing. What did you think I meant?" she said cautiously.

"I thought you meant using your mouth to pleasure someone."

"Using your mouth?"

"Yes, I was going to put my mouth on you," Aula glanced meaningfully at Elenas crotch.

"Oh. Oh!" Elena’s hand flew to her mouth as she blushed hotly. "That’s-"

"What I do for a living, although usually to men."

Aula was too surprised to catch Elena as she fell into a faint and crumpled to the forest floor. "Elena?" she said quietly, kneeling by the Harper. "Shards."

"You have brought your men?" Cor’ Eln asked Ordon. They were standing on the top of the road leading to the Hold proper.

"Yes, my lord," Ordon answered, fingering the hilt of his short sword.

"Good, bring them inside the to the great hall."

Cor’ Eln grinned as Ordon yelled orders at his men below. They were a motley lot, made up of the most desperate and least moral of the holdless men wandering Pern. He watched as a pair of them reluctantly let a screaming woman escape their clutches as they started to march up the road. Yes, he thought, they would do perfectly.

"Damn Robinton, he should never have sent a girl like her on a mission like this," A’gon muttered.

"I’m sure he knew what he was doing. Robinton’s a good man, but sometimes he has to send people to do difficult things," Aula said.

"It’s unconscionable! Look at her! She’s too pretty and too innocent to be a Courtesan! Those men will be all over her the moment she steps into the Hold. They’ll-" He stopped, his fists clenching at the thought of what the guards might do to Elena.

"Too pretty?" Aula waved her hand at him, forestalling any more outbursts. "Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close eye on her. The men won’t get a chance at her. I’ll keep her by my side at all times."

"Promise me that, promise me that you’ll keep her safe and I’ll do anything for you. Anything!" A’gon said urgently. He turned at the sound of Elena stirring. "Elena? Elena, are you all right?" he asked softly, gently placing a cool, damp cloth on the girl’s forehead.

Elena’s eyelids fluttered and she moaned softly. "What happened?" she mumbled.

"Aula said you fainted. How do you feel?"

Elena blushed and tried to sit up, only to be stopped by a gentle pressure from A’gon’s hands. "Easy there, you don’t want to faint again." Elena could see the worried faces of some of the Courtesans hovering over her. "I don’t think she should go to Weoth Hold tomorrow," A’gon said to Aula.

Aula thought for a moment, weighing the need to discover why guards would attack a Harper and a dragonrider against the possible harm to the Harper girl. She looked over to A’gon’s worried face and said, "You’re right, I don’t think she’s in any shape to pose as a Courtesan."

Elena struggled upright. "I have to go, Master Robinton assigned me to this mission."

Aula looked at her straight in the eyes. "Elena, think of why you fainted. If you were pretending to be a Courtesan, you might have to do everything we talked about."

"I, I can do it, I know I can. I have to."

Aula looked unimpressed. "Just get me the score to Kylara’s part," Elena said, climbing out of the bedroll she had been tucked into. "I’ll show you."

Aula shrugged and picked up the pieces of paper from Elena’s pack. "Would you like to go back in the woods?" she asked as she handed the paper to Elena. "It’s more private there."

"No, I’ll do it right here."

"As you wish."

Elena moved over to the fire and held the score in her hands, carefully rereading the lyrics and memorizing the music. "I’m ready," she said, handing the paper back to Aula. She took a deep breath as she looked around at the fourteen curious and two concerned faces.

"I’ve always known / I’ve always said / that men will think / with just one thing," she began to sing, her hips beginning to swing slowly back and forth to the music in her head. "So all my life, I learned how / to get them to do my bidding." She tried to remember what Alden and Tais had done when they had danced. "I tease them / I promise them / I show them," she spun herself towards the gaping A’gon, "everything that they want to see!" Elena pressed herself against the dragonrider, sliding her hands over his chest before slinking away from him. "Anyplace, anytime, anyway / I make them mine / hands and knees / bent over chairs / anything that will make them mine!"

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Elena launched into the chorus, "One man, two men, three men or more / whatever will get, what I adore / give me power, give me men / I’ll take it all / in any way / at your beck and call!"

She stopped panting for breath and feeling sweat running down her face. She rubbed at it with her sleeve and looked at the staring faces surrounding her. "There, if I can do that, I can pretend to be a Courtesan for a night. Excuse me, please." She walked then ran away from the fire to the concealment of the forest.

A’gon let out a long, shaky breath after Elena had fled into the forest. "Through Fall, Fog, and Fire, that was, that was-"

"Incredible," Aula grinned.

"I’d better see if she’s all right."

Aula smirked at him. "I’m sure."

"What? She looked upset."

"And I’m sure you’ll do your best to calm her down, maybe get her to lie down and loosen her clothing..."

A’gon did his best to ignore the ripple of laughter that spread around the clearing as he followed Elena.

Elena fell to her knees by a small stream that ran through the forest. She felt sick, dirty from doing that dance. By the Egg, she thought, what will A’gon think of me now? She felt a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach as she remembered the horrified amazement on his face when she had danced over to him. She pounded one fist against the grass, feeling tears leaking from her eyes. With wracking sob, she began to cry helplessly.

That was how A’gon found her, her hair falling around her face as she knelt with her face in her hands.

"Elena?" he said softly as he approached her.

"What? Oh, A’gon," she looked up at him, scrubbing her face with her sleeve, trying to hide the unmistakable fact that she had been crying.

"Are you all right? You ran off so quickly-" he said, kneeling next to her.

"I, yes, I’m fine." She had turned her head away from him to look at the stream.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

A’gon reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, he felt a shiver run through her body as he turned her to face him. "What’s wrong, Elena? Is it pretending to be a Courtesan?"

"No, it’s nothing. I-" She suddenly stopped and dropped her head. "It’s everything!" she shouted, "Ardeck might die, men are trying to kill Harpers, and I have to be a Courtesan!" She began to weep again, her whole body shaking with the force of her sobs.

A’gon pulled her closer to him and let her rest her head on his shoulder. He gently stroked her hair while making soothing sounds in her ear. He could feel the damp of her tears on his shoulder along with the warm softness of her body against his. Gradually, her crying slowed and ceased until she was still. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"My pleasure," he said, still holding her, his voice unsteady. He could feel his heart beating faster at the smell of her hair.

"You must think I’m a horrible example of a Harper," she said a little later.

A’gon laughed and pulled back to look at her face. "Elena, I wish every Harper could be like you." He reached out and brushed a lock of hair away from her face and brushed his finger along her cheek. He could feel himself being lost in the infinite depths of her deep brown eyes, almost unconsciously he leaned forward and kissed her softly.

Elena stiffened for a moment at the touch of his lips, then relaxed and let herself be drawn into his arms again. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around his body, letting her breasts press against his chest. She moaned into his mouth as she felt his hands slide up her back to gently hold her head. Her heart began to pound against her ribs. Will he want to take me now? she wondered. Will I let him? A part of her said yes, urged her to let him take her by the stream, urged her to let him take her in every way that the song said. Another part of her was afraid, deeply afraid of taking that one, irreversible step, of crossing that final border. She began to tremble as the two parts of her fought and struggled within her.

"Elena," A’gon sighed as he began to kiss down to her neck, his hands running over her sides and seeming to set her aflame.

The couple froze when they heard a polite cough. "I’m sorry to interrupt you, but we were going to go over our strategy for tomorrow," Aula said, gazing longingly at Elena before she shook her head angrily. "We can do it later-"

"No!" Elena gasped. "We can do it now." She reluctantly tore herself from A’gon’s arms, looking at him wistfully as she stood.

A’gon breathed heavily and said, "Yes, it’s better that we do it-, I mean discuss strategy as soon as possible." He stood awkwardly and motioned for them to go ahead. He watched them until they had entered the forest and then took several deep breaths to calm himself before following them.

Cor’ Eln stood in front of the gathered men, Cor’ Siyg on his right and Ordon on his left. In his hand he held a sleek crossbow.

"This," he said, holding up the crossbow, "is a crossbow. It has more power and more range than any bow on Pern. With these bolts you could kill a dragon." He smiled at the murmur of discomfort that even these men felt at the thought of hurting a dragon. "Watch!" he said as he aimed the crossbow at a heavy dining table that had been set upright against the far wall. Balancing the crossbow on his other arm, he pulled the trigger.

The bolt flew from the crossbow to fly through the wood of the table and embed itself in the stone wall. Cries of amazement rang through the hall and the men crowded around the table to examine the bolt. Cor’ Eln signaled to Cor’ Siyg and waited as his Lictor threw several jars of Thread at the milling group of men.

The first human was implanted before he could scream, the Thread burrowing into his skull and wrapping itself around his brain. Some of the others did manage to scream and a few even tried to run. None of them made it more than a few steps.

Cor’ Eln walked over to the implanted humans who were just now starting to respond to the commands he was giving. "Good," he said with a smile. "When they are fully under control, arm them with the crossbows, flamethrowers, and agenothree sprayers. The next Threadfall, we’ll march on Benden Weyr and have it under control before the dragonriders return." He turned to Ordon. "Then, when they’re expecting a warm welcome from their weyrfolk, we’ll give them a different sort of welcome. Of course, F’lar and Lessa will be left alive to be delivered into your care, my dear Ordon."

Ordon smiled and rubbed his dagger’s hilt, his face flushed and sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.

First a Weyr, Cor’ Eln thought, then the dragons and then Pern will fall to me. The Cor’ Nos will rise from this world and retake the stars. He allowed himself a chuckle and then a laugh that rang through the hall.

"-so A’gon will wait on the fireheights above the Hold, just out of sight of the Hold itself," Aula said, pointing to a sketch of the Hold drawn in the dirt around the fire. "Elena will be the only one to leave, the rest of us will stay in the Hold for as long as Lord Trasden wants our company."

"How will I signal him?" Elena asked.

"Whistle," A’gon said, "Tranth will be able to hear you as long as you’re outside." He smiled at her. "We’ll be there."

"I don’t think you should be long, Elena," Aula continued. "As soon as we go to the Hold, we’ll start scouring the place for whatever it was that Ardeck saw. Don’t get overzealous, all you have to do is bring back something to explain why the Lord Holder is acting so strangely. Get out as soon as possible."

Elena nodded and asked, "What will I wear? I didn’t bring any dresses."

"Don’t worry, I’ve got some clothes that should fit you. You can change tomorrow at the inn before we head up to the Hold."

The group drifted apart as they made ready for bed around the campfire. Tranth raised a cloud of dust as he scratched a bed for himself at the edge of the clearing while Elena and A’gon laid their bedrolls near the fire and near each other.

"Ready? I mean, for the mission," A’gon said as they slid into the bedrolls.

Elena rolled over to face him. "Yes, as ready as I’ll ever be." She and rolled onto her back to look up at the stars. She turned her head towards A’gon when he took her hand between his.

"I’ll be right there, don’t worry," he stopped when Tranth rumbled from his bed. "And Tranth will be there too!" he said loudly. He leaned closer to her and whispered, "He says your name, that means he likes you."

Elena smiled at him and closed her eyes. "I’m glad," she said softly. She was asleep in minutes.

A’gon watched her sleep for a while after before finally settling into his bedroll and falling asleep to the sound of the logs crackling in the fire.

They had reached Weoth Hold without incident, A’gon posing as their wagon driver and driving them to the inn. Now the Courtesans were lounging around the common room waiting for Lord Trasden’s summons to the Hold. Upstairs, Elena was looking at the bundle of cloth A’gon had given to her from Aula.

"Are you sure this is all of it?" she asked him.

"That’s what she gave me. The fabric’s very light, it just looks like it isn’t much."

"I suppose so," she said as she entered the next room to change. A’gon waited on the room’s only chair, his feet propped on the table as he studied the ceiling. After a few minutes he heard Elena call to him.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Are you sure this is everything she gave you?"

"Yes, I am. What’s the matter?"

"There’s not enough dress."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, there’s not enough dress," she was starting to sound angry.

A’gon stood and walked over to the door. "Let me see," he said, starting to open the door. He stopped at the sight of Elena, a blanket draped over her upper body and her hair carefully pinned back from her face.

"There’s not enough, it’s like an undergarment," she said, turning back to the small polished metal mirror propped on a shelf.

The dress was dyed a deep blue, almost black. It clung to Elena’s waist like a second skin with a slit up one side of the skirt showing a breathtaking display of slender leg every time she moved. "I think there should be a blouse or tunic to go with this," Elena said, letting her arms fall to her sides with the blanket. "Um, what do you think?"

A’gon made a strangled noise. Two thin straps held up the dress, which barely covered Elena’s breasts. The neckline of the dress was so low as to be almost non-existent. As she turned again she revealed that the dress was cut low under the arms to reveal parts of Elena which he had never seen. When she turned back to the mirror, A’gon saw that the back of the dress was cut down almost to her waist with only a few laces crossing across the smooth skin of her back tying it together.

"You look wonderful," the dragonrider finally said in a husky voice. "That’s all the dress there is, though."

Elena turned back to him causing her skirt to swirl upward and reveal a flash of shapely thigh. "I feel naked in this, but I suppose I won’t be wearing it long." She blushed when she realized how her words could be taken. "I mean, I won’t have to wear it long, no, I-" She stopped. "You know what I mean."

A’gon tore his eyes away from her legs to look in her eyes. "I do." She seemed worried but determined to go through with her duty. "I want you to take this," he said, handing his belt dagger and its sheath to her.

"Oh, thank you, A’gon. But where will I keep it? There’s no place to hide it in this dress."

A’gon shuddered slightly. "You can tie it to you thigh," he finally said.

"With what?"

"I’ve got some spare bootlaces," he said, rummaging in his belt pouches. He pulled two of the leather thongs from his pouch and handed them to her.

"Could you turn around?"

A’gon obeyed and tried to think of burning Thread when he heard her lift her dress and begin tying the sheath to her thigh. "There, thank you," he heard her say.

"Just be sure you’re able to give it back to me."

"I will," she said, stepping closer to him. Just as she was about to kiss him, she heard Aula calling up that they were summoned to the Hold. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips, both of them trying hard to keep from lengthening it, and hurried down the stairs.

A’gon had left immediately after Aula, Elena, and the other Courtesans had left for the Hold. He rode the riding beast that had pulled the wagon away from the Hold and up towards the hills behind it, ostensibly to fetch herbs for the Courtesans. He was glad to find Tranth waiting for him, carefully out of view behind the hill and in the shelter of a rocky outcropping.

"Now we wait," he said, scratching Tranth’s eye ridges.

Elena shifted nervously, causing the strap of her gitar to chafe against her bare shoulder. Aula had told her to bring it, saying that men usually didn’t bother the woman who played the songs that the other ones danced to. Really danced, not ‘danced’, Aula had told her. "Just be careful not to play too well, we don’t want them to think you’re a Harper," Aula had said just before they had entered the Hold.

Now they were waiting in the Great Hall of Weoth Hold. Elena had spent her time furtively examining the metal chair and furniture that had been set up at the end of the hall. Could Lord Trasden have found a fabulously wealthy seam of iron? Was greed all that was driving him? The drudge who had died saving her and his cryptic words seemed to indicate that something other than greed was motivating Lord Trasden. Her train of thought was cut off by the entrance of the Lord himself.

He was tall and handsome, perhaps having about ten more turns than her. Every mannerism was arrogance personified. He looked at the gathered Courtesans as if they were a group of prized herdbeasts ready to be sold. Which in a way they were, Elena thought, but that doesn’t justify his contempt.

"Welcome, ladies, to Weoth Hold," he said as he sat in the metal chair. "You’ll be servicing me, my secondman here, and our men. Standard rates, of course." He motioned to them. "Stand up please, let us take a look at you."

His secondman strode along the line of assembled Courtesans, closely examining each of them in turn. He stopped when he reached Elena.

"Why do you carry a, gitar?" he asked. "Are you a Harper?"

"Oh no, m’lord. I’m no Harper, I can just play some tunes, that’s all," Elena said, trying to look humble. The secondman nodded and continued on to Aula.

"Are you their leader?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord. I’m in charge of them," she answered smoothly, bowing to let him look down the low neck of her dress.

"You will go with Lord Trasden," he told her. "You," he pointed to Elena, "will be mine-" He was interrupted by Aula.

"Please, pardon my interruption, my lord, but she’s only just begun her training."

"Then she can complete it with me."

"Begging your pardon, but she’s to learn what to do from example, from me. She won’t be very good to you the way she is now. She couldn’t take your cock in her mouth very well without knowing what to do with it."

The secondman examined Aula’s face minutely. "Very well," he said, "she may accompany you." He resumed counting off, one girl to Lord Trasden, one for him, and one for the men. When had finished dividing the Courtesans up he returned to the side of Lord Trasden.

Lord Trasden watched the Courtesans, steepling his fingers in anticipation of appetites too long unsatisfied. "You," he said, pointing to the women assigned to the men, "go to the guards quarters on the lower level. The rest of you, come with us."

Elena stayed close by Aula’s side as they followed the Lord and his secondman to their quarters above the Great Hall. Elena jumped when she saw the guards lined up outside the hall, waiting for the Courtesans. She quickly turned her face away from them, lest they recognize her, but not before she saw them clutching at the women and already kissing and fondling them lewdly.

"Do they all act like this?" she whispered to Aula.

"No," she said with a frown. "They don’t. When we begin, stay out of the way and try to keep him from noticing you."

Elena nodded and jumped again at the sound of tearing fabric and a woman’s low moan behind her.

"What are they doing to them?" she asked Aula.

"One man, two men, three men or more," Aula answered, quoting Kylara’s song. "They’re having ‘or more’."

Elena blanched and let out an involuntary sigh of relief when they climbed the stairs to the upper quarters and left the sounds of the guards and women behind. They turned down another hallway and then split from the secondman’s group to enter Lord Trasden’s quarters. They were large and furnished spartanly, the usual for a Lord Holder of a new Hold. Lord Trasden opened the door to his bedchamber and gestured for them to enter.

"Now, ladies, if you would divest yourselves of your clothing, such as it were," he said as he reclined on the bed.

Elena looked to Aula and saw the older woman nod. Gulping nervously, she set aside her gitar and slipped off her shoes. She breathed a sigh of relief when Aula moved directly in front of Lord Trasden, blocking Elena from his sight. Elena looked up at a touch on her shoulder. It was another one of the Courtesans, a voluptuous blond one. She smiled encouragingly and began to strip in such a way that Elena would be concealed behind her clothes as she tossed them to the floor. Her head light, Elena slipped the straps of her dress down her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, quickly hiding the dagger and its sheath under the dress. She pulled her underwear down with shaking hands and looked up to see Aula and the blond woman already on Lord Trasden.

Elena gave a little gasp when she saw Aula kneel on the bed in front of him, her hands stroking his cock to its full length. Aula half turned her head and gave her a brief nod before she bent and took Trasden’s cock into her mouth. Elena watched as Aula began to bob her head over his cock as the other women kissed his body or placed his hands on their breasts. The blond woman was busy kissing him as she straddled his body. Elena realized that they were distracting him so that she could search the room.

She began to carefully open chests and drawers, glancing over her shoulder to the tableau on the bed before searching through the contents. As she was opening a closet she heard Lord Trasden grunt sharply. Fearing that he had seen her she spun around and saw Aula swallowing vigorously. As she watched, Aula let his cock fall from her lips and moved away to allow another Courtesan to take it in her mouth. Aula motioned at Elena to continue searching as she guided Lord Trasden’s hand between her thighs.

The only thing of note that Elena found was a bloodstained and ripped tunic. Other than that, there was no obvious evidence of why he was acting so strangely, and certainly no sign of Thread. She hid the tunic under her dress as one of the Courtesans silently approached her and motioned for her to join them on the bed. When she had, Aula pulled her over and kissed her sloppily, rubbing a sticky white fluid onto her face.

"I’m getting hungry," Lord Trasden said, pushing aside the blond woman. "You," he said, pointing to her, "go with-" He surveyed the other women. "Who haven’t I had yet?" He looked at Elena’s face, smeared with his come. "You go too, then." He chuckled. "You were very good for a beginner. The kitchen is on the bottom floor." He waved them away and turned his attentions towards Aula.

Elena scooped up her dress and ran for the door as Aula moaned loudly and began to say obscene things into Lord Trasden’s ear, all the while waving Elena out the door. The halls of the Hold were a blur as Elena, scrubbing the sticky liquid from her face, and the blond woman hurried towards the kitchen.

"I’ll take the food back, you look around for what you need," she said as they reached the kitchen.

Elena nodded and slipped down a shadowy corridor towards the storerooms. With any luck, this would be where Lord Trasden kept the Thread, if he actually had any. As she crept down the corridors, her dress uncomfortably drafty, she could hear moans and squeals echoing from the guard quarters. She paused outside a large door, curiously made of metal instead of wood. Just as she was about to open it she felt a calloused hand wrap over her mouth. She was spun about and slammed roughly against the door by a stocky man of medium height. Ordon of Nabol, she thought as he grinned at her.

"You’re a pretty thing, what are you doing down here?" he leered at her. "I bet you got scared of those guards, didn’t you? They’re pretty mean." Elena froze when he squeezed her left breast with his free hand. "Should have stayed with them, I think the Courtesans will be out one member after tonight."

Elena struggled against him as he spun her about again and pressed her face first into the door. A punch to her back stopped her struggling long enough for him to wrap his belt around her wrists. "I’m going to have a lot of fun with you," he rasped into her ear as he reached for something in his belt pouch. Elena could hear the jingle of a key ring as he unlocked the door and pushed her through it.

She managed a gasp of terror as she saw the contents of the room. Shelves were set against the walls of the large room and each shelf was filled with glass jars. Each jar contained writhing, hissing Thread. "You give me any trouble and I’ll pour one of those jars on your legs," Ordon said as she managed to get to her knees. "Thread is really nasty, it kills you slow and painful."

"What do you want?" Elena gasped.

Ordon hung the key from a hook set in the wall by the door and pulled his shirt off. "Just what you sluts sell. Only I want it free."

Elena looked around for an escape route, all the while working her wrists against the tight wherhide belt. There was no means of escape besides the door and she couldn’t get to A’gon’s dagger with her hands tied behind her back. She got to her feet and was backing away from Ordon, but she knew that she’d run out of room very soon.

"Try to escape all you want, you can’t. I hope you’ll put up a fight, it’s no fun if you just lie there." He pulled his boots off and let his pants fall to the floor. His swollen cock jutted from his crotch, an ugly red in color. Elena tried not to be sick. "You look like Lessa of Benden, you know that? Same hair, same body. I’m really going to enjoy this." He chuckled. "You’ll be a nice warm up before I get my hands on her. Benden Weyr is going to be wiped off the map."

Elena felt her back press against the shelves as Ordon moved closer to her, his calloused hands reaching out to grab her shoulders. "Leave me alone!" she yelled as he rubbed his cock with one hand.

"Yes, you’ll do nicely," he said as he grabbed for her hair.

Elena saw her last chance and ducked under his clumsy grab. She charged forward and slammed her head into his gut, doubling him over for a second. He straightened up almost immediately but it was enough time for her to bring her knee up into his unprotected groin.

She sprinted past him as he wheezed for breath and turned to grab the keys from their hook. She had just gotten them when Ordon roared and charged her. She managed to dodge away from his charge, but a wild roundhouse punch glanced off her shoulder and sent her tumbling into a shelf. She looked up and saw a jar teetering on the edge of the shelf and just managed to roll out from under it. Hissing Thread writhed on the floor as Ordon approached her.

"I’m going to break every bone in your body and then fuck you to death," he snarled.

Elena waited until he bent over to grab her and then lashed out with her leg, sweeping his feet from under him. He went down with a crash, his head slamming against the floor. Heart racing, Elena looked over her shoulder at the Thread on the floor. Gritting her teeth, she pressed the wherhide belt binding her hands against it. The Thread ate through the belt in an instant and she barely managed to get her hands away before they latched on to her. Even still, she received a stinging Thread score along the back of her hand.

With her hands free, Elena stood and pulled A’gon’s dagger from its sheath. Ordon, crazed with lust and rage, seemed heedless of her weapon and charged her again. She slashed at him and cut him deeply along the ribs. He roared in anger and swung at her head. Elena ducked under his clumsy punch and darted towards the door, only stumble as he grabbed the hem of her skirt. One hand clinging to the door handle, Elena reached out with her other hand to the nearby shelf. She gave a desperate tug and sent the shelf crashing down on Ordon. He saw what was happening at the last moment and let go of her to futilely shield himself with his arms.

Elena could see the Thread burrowing into him and through him, crawling along under his skin as they devoured him alive. She unlocked the door and wrenched it open, falling into the hallway beyond. She crawled away from the doorway and turned. Ordon had brought down the other shelves in his pain crazed flailings. More Thread leapt and burrowed into him as his screams rang down the hallways of the Hold. Sobbing, Elena kicked the door shut on him and locked it. She stumbled down the hallway, back towards the upper Hold, pausing only long enough to drop the key into a pot of vegetables set to soak.

"I imagine you’ve been many places," Cor’ Eln said to Aula as she rolled off him to lie by his side. He waved off the other Courtesans before they could begin their ministrations.

"Yes, I have," Aula said, panting for breath. Trasden seemed to have more stamina and lasting power than any man she had known.

"And learned many things about many interesting people?" he asked, propping himself up on one elbow.

"Yes, but I can’t tell you about them, it’s against the rules."

"Oh, but you will tell me," he said, reaching up to grasp her head with a hand suddenly incredibly strong.

"What, what are you doing?" Aula yelled as he brought his other hand to her face, palm towards her. She grabbed at his arm and tried to free herself, but to no avail. She began to scream when a silvery Thread emerged from his palm and darted at her.

Aula saw nothing. Then she saw everything that the thing inhabiting Lord Trasden’s body had ever seen, felt everything that he had ever felt. Just as he was seeing all that she had seen and learning every secret she had learned in seven turns of beds. Dragonriders, Lords, holders, drudges, and craftsmen all flashed through their mind. She saw her conversation with Terry the smith and heard him brag about how he could turn a flamethrower into a stove that would cook more efficiently than the wood fired stoves that were used all over Pern. She heard the midnight whispers of F’nor, telling her of the different patterns of dragons that formed the many different wings. She was flying high above a world, high above a blue and white globe that looked so much like Pern yet was so different. She saw huge metal ships that spat flame and dropped Thread upon the blue globe. She saw the globe turn brown and grey as the ships incinerated the men who rose to challenge them. Trapped in the depths of two minds, Aula screamed.

Elena heard the scream just as she reached the bedroom door. Fearing that Lord Trasden might have similar tastes to Ordon of Nabol, she rushed into the room. She saw Aula screaming on the bed, a Thread joining her temple to Trasden’s hand while the other Courtesans huddled in the far corner, weeping in fear. Instinct guided the Harper as she snatched up her lovingly crafted gitar and smashed it over Lord Trasden’s head, dropping him to the bed.

Elena watched as the Thread jerked from Aula and disappeared back into Lord Trasden’s hand. Aula’s screams ceased as soon as the Thread left her. She collapsed to the bed, her arms and legs twitching uncontrollably.

"Help me with her!" she yelled at the other Courtesans. "We’ve got to get out of here!" With the other’s help, she managed to get Aula dressed on her feet. A’gon’s dagger was in her hand as they helped Aula out the door and towards the main entrance to the Hold.

Cor’ Eln awoke a few minutes later. He hissed in anger, wondering who had struck him. He reached out to Cor’ Siyg’s mind and issued an urgent summons. He stumbled as he got to his feet and cursed violently. This body is too frail, he thought, and detached himself from it.

Cor’ Siyg arrived in time to see the looping strands of Thread flowing in jets from Lord Trasden’s nostrils and mouth. They coiled together to form a roughly humanoid figure.

Kill the leader of the Courtesans, he heard in his mind. She knows too much. He bowed quickly and ran from the room, issuing commands to the Thread inhabiting the minds of the other guards and mercenaries.

Elena and the Courtesans had just reached the Great Hall when a shower of bolts embedded themselves in the wall behind them. She shouted for everyone to hurry as they ran across the hall towards the entranceway. They skidded to a halt at the sound of footsteps rushing towards the hall from the entrance.

"What do we do?" the blond woman asked, nearly hysterical.

Elena looked around frantically, her eyes stopping on the large metal shutters that covered the inside of a window. "Through there!" she yelled, already pulling the shutters open.

The window was wide and deep, all in accordance with regulations, and had the required outside shutters as well. Elena kicked those open and slid out onto the wall that surrounded the Hold and served as a walkway for guards. Placing her fingers in her mouth, she whistled as loudly as she could.
 
 

She calls, Tranth sent to A’gon. The dragonrider vaulted onto the bronze’s neck as was airborn in seconds. The dragon pumped his wings furiously to clear the peak of the hill and then tucked them back to skim just along the surface as he dove towards the hold. He shot over the entrance to the hold and then backwinged furiously as they spotted Elena and a few Courtesans on the wall surrounding the Hold.

A’gon’s heart pounded in his chest as Tranth landed heavily on the wall. There were too many people to fit onto Tranth’s neck safely.

"Come on!" he shouted to Elena as he reached for her.

"What about the others?" she shouted back.

"One more behind me, Tranth can carry the others!"

The shutter burst open just as Tranth was picking up the remaining Courtesans. A guard knelt in the window, his crossbow pointed at Tranth. His bolt flew wide as Tranth lunged forwards and seized the guard in his jaws, shaking his head wildly as if he was killing a herdbeast. Blood spattered over the stone as the dragon let the tattered carcass of the guard drop to the wall and sprang into the air.

"I thought dragons never hurt people," Elena said as Tranth winged away from Weoth Hold.

"They don’t!" A’gon said back. Why did you do that? he silently asked Tranth.

That man was Thread, the dragon replied.

"He says that the man was Thread," A’gon said.

"I think he might have been. The drudge said that ‘they’re in their heads’, I saw Thread coming from Lord Trasden’s body. And-" she shuddered at the horrible memory of the storeroom, "he had a room full of Thread, kept in jars. I think he’s found a way to control it!" Her eyes widened as she looked back and saw Thread consuming the guard from the inside out. A’gon spared a glance back and was nearly sick at the sight.

"I’m going between," he said, "F’lar and Lessa have to know about this."

Is she dead? Cor’ Siyg heard in his mind.

"No, my Archon, she escaped on dragonback with four of the other women," Cor’ Siyg was kneeling before the writhing form of Cor’ Eln, surrounded by the infected guards and mercenaries. The remaining courtesans had been locked in the kitchen with the few human servants.

Thread falls, we must act now or lose our chance to take control of the dragonriders.

"What are your orders?"

Prepare the ship, we shall all journey to Benden Weyr.

"But, the ship is still young, it cannot leave the atmosphere or fly faster than two ciclens."

It does not matter, it shall still be enough to take Benden Weyr. Abandon your shell and once you have prepared the ship and join with me.

"Yes, my Archon."

The mercenaries and guards gathered around him began to shake and quiver, Thread streaming from their bodies to join with the form of Cor’ Eln. He grew in size, until he was as large as a bronze dragon, and flowed through the open door of the Great Hall to emerge into the sunlight.

Elena shivered uncontrollably as they left between and emerged into the air above Benden Weyr. The lone watchdragon trumpeted a challenge and which was answered by Tranth.

"There’s Threadfall all over Fort Weyr," A’gon said, "they’ve all gone to fight it."

"But they’ll be back when it stops, won’t they?" Elena asked.

"Yes, I hope we won’t have lost too much time."

"Can Tranth speak with the other dragons and tell them what’s going on?"

"Yes, but they won’t be able to do anything until they’re done fighting Thread."

"Danger," they heard Aula rasp from her seat behind A’gon, "Thread comes."

"Where? I’m sure they wouldn’t have left Benden empty unless they were sure that no Thread would fall here-" He stopped his scanning of the sky, looking back towards the direction of Weoth Hold. Elena followed his gaze and stopped, her mouth open, feeling a sinking sense of dread in her soul.

Coming over the horizon at a terrific speed was a cloud of Thread. Not falling as Thread usually did, but in a great roiling mass that tumbled and spun as it orbited around some center point, all heading straight for Benden Weyr.

Cor’ Eln floated in the center of the ship mass, Cor’ Siyg by his side. The Thread, one of his race’s many creations, made up the ship and orbited around it, providing all the sensory information that he could use.

Once we infect the dragons, no one on this planet will have the strength to defeat us, Cor’ Eln thought to the Thread.

Tranth landed on the main ledge of Benden Weyr, his wings raising clouds of dust as he balanced himself long enough to set the two woman in his front claws down on the ledge. Already A’gon could see the weyrfolk left behind to tend the weyr rushing out to see the new arrival. He spotted the dark haired figure of Manora, the weyr’s headwoman, and called out to her.

"A’gon? What is going on? Why are these women with you?" she asked as she met him by Tranth’s side.

"No time to explain, there’s Thread on the way, lot’s of it," he said, helping Elena lower Aula from Tranth’s neck.

"Thread? I’ll get the firecrews ready. There’s only the watchdragon and the weyrlings left, though."

"They’ll have to do. I don’t think we have much time, can you take this woman and get her looked after?"

"I will," Manora said as she let Aula support herself on her shoulder. She began to bark orders as she led the Courtesan back into the main chamber.

"The Thread is coming for us! Something controls it, something which hates us!" Aula yelled over the din as she was led away. A’gon frowned at the words, hoping that they were the ravings of an injured woman. Beside him, Elena knew the truth of the words having seen what Lord Trasden was capable of.

"Elena, you should go with her-" A’gon began.

"No!" Elena said sharply. "I know how to use a flamethrower, with that much Thread you’ll need someone watching your back."

"It’s too dangerous-" A’gon began.

"So was going into Weoth Hold. You need all the help you can get."

A’gon looked at Elena’s set face and sighed. "You’ll need proper dragonriding gear," he said and began to call for firestone and the gear. He began to tie sacks of firestone to Tranth as more weyrfolk ran up with a flamethrower and dragonriding gear. Elena hesitated for a moment, looking around at the dozens of people rushing around the ledge, and reached under her skirt to untie the dagger sheath. When she had done that, she pulled the wherhide trousers up her legs and yanked her dress over her head. She ignored a few startled stares from the weyrfolk and quickly dressed in the wherhide tunic and vest that finished the outfit. Picking up the flamethrower, she turned to A’gon and said, "I’m ready."

A’gon had just finished tying the last sack of firestone to Tranth. His palms were sweaty with anticipation of his first Threadfall and the knowledge that he’d meet it with only one other trained dragonrider on his wing. He took a deep breath and vaulted onto Tranth’s neck, extending his arm to help Elena up, this time behind him.

"You’ll need to tie yourself down with the fighting straps," he said, beginning the process himself.

Elena followed suit, the projector of the flamethrower lying across her legs as she wound the fighting straps over her legs and waist. A weyrfolk came over and gave a last inspection of both their straps before saluting and waving them off to join the few weyrlings and the watchdragon already in the sky.

Here come the last of the weyrlings, Tranth sent, amused by the youthful energy the young dragons and riders showed. They circled and dove, excitement overcoming their fear, at least for the moment.

"Tell the weyrlings to sweep low, we’re," he indicated the watchdragon and himself, "going to go for the heart of the Threadfall. If we’re lucky, maybe we can get it while it’s still clumped together." A’gon felt Elena give him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as Tranth flew towards the Threadfall, the watchdragon on his left wing. He smiled when he heard Elena start to sing and then joined her.

"Drummer, beat, and piper, blow, / Harper, strike, and soldier, go. / Free the flame and sear the grasses / Till the dawning Red Star passes."

They had reached the advance edge of the Thread. It fell wrong, indeed, it did not fall at all. Instead it flew in sheets, seeming to lunge towards the racing dragons as they passed. The dragons began to flame, banking and weaving between the clumps of blackened Thread as they winged towards the center of the mass.

"Wheel and turn / Or bleed and burn. / Fly between, / Blue and Green. / Soar, dive down, / Bronze and brown / Dragonmen must fly / When Threads are in the sky."

The clumps of Thread grew larger as the main mass drew nearer. Tranth roared in pain as he was scored along the wing, Elena charring the clump before Tranth went between. The dragon emerged a few feet ahead, the Thread trying to burrow into his wing turned to dust by the cold. A’gon threw him another chunk of firestone as Tranth beat harder to regain his lost momentum.

"From the Weyr and from the bowl, / Bronze and brown and blue and green, / Rise the dragonmen of Pern, / Aloft, on wing; seen, then unseen."

The burning fumes of phosphene blew back as Tranth charred a patch of Thread as large as a Queen and flew on through the stinging cloud of ash. They could see the main mass clearly now, it was an almost solid ovoid the size of a hold. A’gon leaned closer to Tranth’s neck as the bronze let forth another stream of fire to clear a path for them. He felt a wave of heat as Elena charred a patch of Thread swooping down on them from above. To their left, he could barely see the form of the watchdragon, its progress hampered by the lack of a second rider with a flamethrower.

"Almost there!" A’gon yelled back at Elena.

"Honor those the dragons heed / In thought and favor, word and deed. / Worlds are lost or worlds are saved / From the dangers dragon-braved."

The two dragons had cleared the bulk of the Thread and were flying in a clear zone that surrounded the central mass. Tranth beat against the wildly changing currents as Elena fought to keep her grip on the flamethrower. A’gon signaled to the watchrider to follow him in and saw the rider wave acknowledgement. They began to swoop towards the mass when a brilliant blue bolt shot from it to spear the watchdragon and its rider. They were enveloped in a blinding flash of light that left dark afterimages on the eyes. When it was gone all that was left of them was a cloud of ash blown on the wind.

"Shards, shards," A’gon muttered as he tried to find the source of the light. "Tranth!" he yelled in warning as another bolt lanced forward. Tranth jerked himself to the right and barely avoided the bolt. There was a stench of ozone in the air as Tranth tumbled and spun to avoid the next bolt. The dragon flapped desperately and rose above the next bolt by bare handlengths. Tranth rode the blast of hot air from the bolt higher and dove down towards the mass of Thread, flame boiling from his mouth to mix with the flame from Elena’s flamethrower.

Flame rushed over the surface of the mass, Thread charring and blackening as the mass began to disintegrate. Tranth wheeled away and clawed for altitude as the flames billowed and burst around the Thread.

Cor’ Eln writhed in shared agony with his flaming ship. Cor’ Siyg was gone, sucked out of the ship by the fire. He had lost his sidearm when the dragon had flamed the ship. Feeling his body beginning to burn, he staggered towards a small chamber and activated it as he slid inside.

A’gon let out a whoop and was joined by Elena’s voice and Tranth’s bugle as the mass of Thread burned in blossoms of flame. Their joy was cut short by the sight of a small globe of Thread shooting from the burning mass and arcing into the sky. It was small, only a little larger than a human, but even that amount of Thread unchecked could destroy every living thing on the continent.

"After it!" yelled A’gon, urging Tranth to fly faster and harder than he had ever before. The two humans on Tranth’s back could hear the dragon laboring, his lungs working like bellows as the air grew thinner. A’gon watched with horror as Tranth’s wings began to slow and the globe began to pull away.

"Honor those the dragons heed / In thought and favor, word and deed. / Worlds are lost or worlds are saved / From the dangers dragon-braved!" Elena sang, her voice ringing through the bitterly cold air. A’gon joined her, urging Tranth on, lending every bit of his strength and support to him.

"Dragonmen must fly / When Threads are in the sky!"

Tranth’s wings began to beat faster as new he drew support from his riders. A’gon let the sacks of firestone fall from Tranth’s neck, leaving only one stone which he held in his hand. Behind him, Elena let her flamethrower fall.

"Worlds are lost or worlds are saved / By those dangers dragon-braved!"

They were catching up to the globe now, only a few dragonlengths behind it. A’gon had trouble breathing, laboring to draw breaths in the rapidly disappearing air.

"Drummer, beat, and piper, blow, / Harper, strike, and soldier, go. / Free the flame and sear the grasses / Till the dawning Red Star passes!"

Tranth gave a last burst of effort and drew next to the globe. A’gon, his vision narrowing to a dark tunnel, threw the last firestone into Tranth’s waiting mouth. He saw the dragon chew and turn to flame. The last thing he saw was the brilliant red flame billowing from Tranth’s mouth to char the Thread to ashes.

The search teams from Benden Weyr found them half a day later. They lay at the end of a trough cut into newly sprouting grass by a mountain lake. A’gon and Elena lay together, nestled in each other’s arms, while Tranth sprawled across the shoreline with his tail in the water.

An escort of queens and bronzes shepherded them back to Benden Weyr and a hero’s welcome. The weyrlings, many scored by their first Threadfall, rose in an unruly cloud of dragons to greet them as Tranth glided in for a landing, complaining vocally about his sore and aching wings.

"I’ll make sure they bathe you in numbweed, old friend," A’gon said affectionately with a pat on Tranth’s neck. He stiffly climbed from Tranth, his body aching all over from their crash landing. Smiling, he turned and placed his hands around Elena’s waist, groaning slightly as he lifted her down from Tranth’s neck. She smiled back at him, face dirty and smudged with ash, her hair tangled and wild. Unheeding of F’lar standing by him congratulating him and Lessa on the other wishing them well, Elena tilted her head and kissed A’gon, her arms tight around him, as if she wanted to press herself into him and never be separated.

Epilogue: Harper Hall, Journeywoman’s Quarters

Elena’s newly assigned journeywoman’s quarters were cozy, to say the least, still they were a vast improvement over the apprentice’s dormitory. She smiled over dinner at A’gon, the firelight gleaming on her hair, neatly pinned back from her face. Silvina had prepared them a sumptuous meal and left them to enjoy it.

"That was delicious, wasn’t it?" A’gon said as he lay down his napkin on the table.

"Yes, it was," Elena answered. They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long, silent moment before A’gon spoke again.

"Um, I was wondering. Ah-"

"What?" Elena smiled, a little nervously, as she watched A’gon tap his fingers on the table.

"I’m not entirely sure how this works in your Hold, but-"

"What is it?"

"Oh, shards. Here-" He took a small object wrapped in a silk cloth from his vest pocket and handed it to her.

Elena’s hands were shaking as she unwrapped it. She gasped and nearly dropped the ring that was hidden beneath the silk. It was gold, polished and with a dragon and harp inscribed along its surface.

A’gon coughed. "I made it myself, that’s where I was these last two sevendays." He stopped, remembering Mastersmith Fandarel yelling as gold spilled all over the workshop. He winced slightly at the memory of burning himself several times trying to move the ring’s mold before it was ready. "I hope you like it, it’s nothing fancy." He looked up at Elena. She was staring at him, her eyes full of what he hoped was love. "So, will you," he coughed, "marry me?"

Elena slowly stood, her chair scraping over the rough floor of her quarters and walked over to A’gon. She pulled him to his feet and took his right hand, placing the ring in it.

"Oh, well, I guess I didn’t really have a-" A’gon began, only to be silenced by a long kiss.

"You’re supposed to put it on me," Elena murmured, holding her left hand up.

A’gon smiled. "I’m sorry, I didn’t know," he said as he slid the ring onto her finger.

"Yes."

"What-? Oh." He laughed softly.

They kissed again, moving towards Elena’s bed. "Are you sure?" A’gon asked, nodding towards the bed. "We can wait."

"I don’t want to wait," Elena whispered as she let her tunic fall to the floor. She looked at A’gon, heart pounding, wondering if he would still find her attractive with her concealing clothes off. She sighed as he kissed her again, his hands going to her belt.

Elena felt her trousers fall to the floor as A’gon pulled back the covers on her bed and sat her down on it, tugging her underwear off. She watched, eyes wide, as he removed his clothes and piled them on the floor by the bed.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear as he kissed her neck.

"I love you," she said, her body inflamed by his touch.

She lay back on the bed, sliding over to make room for him as he kissed down her neck and towards her breasts. Elena gasped, her head spinning, as A’gon lapped at her nipples, his tongue swirling around them before he took them into his mouth. She reached down and stroked his turgid cock with her hand and was rewarded by his moan of pleasure. Elena bit her lower lip as he rose over her, gently spreading her thighs, and settled between her legs.

"This is my first time," she said quietly, looking up into his eyes.

"I’ll be gentle," he said, bending his head to kiss her again.

Elena moaned at the first touch of his cock against her outer lips. Her breathing increased as he slowly pushed at her and slid into her heated opening. She grabbed his shoulders and tightened her hands against him as he pressed against her maidenhead. He kissed her again and nipped at her lip as he thrust into her. Distracted by his bite, Elena felt hardly any pain as he slid fully into her.

"Yes, oh, shards!" she cried out as he pulled back and thrust into her again. They began to move together, her legs going up to wrap around his waist and urge him deeper into her. Her hands roamed over him, stroking the hard muscle of his back and then burying themselves in his hair as he increased the tempo of his thrusts.

A’gon could feel himself beginning to lose control, the tightness of her combined with her innocent sensuality to drive him to his peak. He kissed her again, this time harder and deeper, as he pumped into her. Her slender body writhed below him, her breasts pressed against his chest as she arched her back and threw back her head to cry out wildly.

Elena felt her a current run through her body, curling her toes and causing her to clutch wildly at A’gon. She moaned loudly and tossed her head, her hair fanning out on the pillow, feeling as if she was on fire. She screamed in ecstasy and dug her nails into A’gon’s back as she climaxed violently against him, her hips grinding wantonly against his, urging him deeper and harder. He obliged her, pumping rapidly into her, groaning as he released himself deep into her, his seed shooting forth.

He held himself on his hands above her, giving one last thrust into her before drawing himself out and collapsing to the bed beside her. Elena panted for breath, feeling her racing heart gradually slow. A’gon’s hand traced a circle around her breast and slipped down to the junction of her thighs. She cried out loudly as he began to pleasure her with his hand, his mouth on her breast. Her hips twisted and rocked crazily as the dragonrider brought her to another climax and brought his fingers to his lips. He licked them clean, savoring the taste of her, and kissed her softly as he drew the covers up over them. Elena snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest as she fell asleep.

A’gon gently stroked her back under the covers as she drifted off. He sighed and looked down at her, her face at peace and innocent. He gently kissed the top of her head before he lay back and let sleep claim him as well.

They were awoken the next morning by a furious banging on the door. Before either one of them could respond the door was opened and a pair of filthy apprentices barged in, each waving sheafs of paper and yelling at the tops of their lungs.

"Elena! We’ve finished and Master Robinton approved!" Taia yelled as she ran towards the bed.

"Lord Trasden says that he’ll pay for everything too!" Alden cried out as he waved the completed score at her, oblivious to the fact that she was naked and in bed with a man.

"He’s going to host a gather and everyone’s invited!"

"A stage and everything! The acoustics are wonderful in that valley!"

"Oh, by the way, he sent you a present. Master Robinton’s holding onto it for now, he says that it’s a gitar to replace the one you broke on his head."

As suddenly as they had appeared, Taia and Alden rushed out of the room, yelling their plans for the play at each other. Elena and A’gon stared incredulously at each other as the door slammed shut.

"Is that going to happen everytime we-?" A’gon asked.

"I don’t know, let’s find out," Elena said with a smile, pulling A’gon down to kiss her. He responded eagerly and drew her into his arms, the morning sun shining on their bodies as outside a new day began at Harper Hall.