Part 6
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.
Continued in Epilogue
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