Fleeing Power 3/4

Writers: Heather
Date Posted: 5th May 2014
Series: The Price of Power

Characters: Jeyme, S'avn, Reven, Cogre
Description: S'avn finds something startling on sweeps
Location: Green Valley Hold
Date: month 6, day 23 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: D'hol

Jeyme

Reven

Hot, burning up, dizzy. What was that sound? Reven looked up blearily
as ashes floated down to him on the breeze that was blowing through
the outcropping of rock where he had taken refuge the night before.
Thunder? Was it loud cracks of thunder that he was hearing? No, it was
too frequent for that.

Reven wiped his eyes with the palm of his right hand as he peered
through the haziness of his eyes up toward the cloudy, overcast skies.
Dragons! **Thread!** His thinking became a bit clearer as he realized
the danger that he was in. So far none of the Thread in the skies had
landed near his outcropping of rock, testament to the dragonriders
skill in the air.

A fiery cough blasted through his chest, leaving him wheezy and watery
eyed as he slumped back down on the rock. **Must get up. Must. Keep.
Going.** He needed to get out there, as dangerous as it was, and flag
down a dragonman. This was his chance for rescue, this was it, and if
he missed it, he would surely die out there.

Only, his legs didn't obey at his command to get up, and his right
arm, his good arm, remained limp by his side as he laid on his back.
**Must.... Get..... Up..... Help.**

~*~

S'avn hated fighting Thread when there had been rain showers. It only
made things more icky than they already were. Despite the cool
temperature of the day, his was sweating underneath his riding
leathers and it trickled down the back of his neck under his jacket.

**Thank Faranth it's over.** He thought as he relaxed in his riding
straps as the bulk of the Wings returned to the Weyr. Not he and
Mayfeth though. Oh no, it only took S'avn breathing the wrong way
around D'hol for him to be given some sort of punishment duty. This
day it was that S'avn had to fly post-fall sweep duty. It wasn't
anything difficult, but the bluerider was tired, sweaty, and ready for
a bath and some relaxation.

Mayfeth was in far better spirits than S'avn, despite being covered in
soot and ash, and he happily made a plunging dive to fly down lower to
the ground, his whirling eyes inspecting the grounds for any Thread
that might have escaped their fighting Wings. Only, the closer Mayfeth
flew to an outcropping of rocks, the stranger he felt. What was that?
Mayfeth had heard older dragons, Searchdragons, talk about what it was
like to "feel" other humans and talk to them, but Mayeth had never
tried.

}:I think.... I think there is something down in those rocks.:{
Mayfeth told S'avn, even as he came to a landing just a few yards
away.

"I will go and see." S'avn answered, uncinching his riding straps and
jumping to the ground. Yanking off his riding helmet, he released a
long, slow sigh as he rubbed his hand over his head and walked toward
the outcropping of rock.

"Mayfeth, I don't know what you are - " the young bluerider froze. It
was as if ice was slowly sluicing through his veins. **Is that... An
arm?** He could vaguely make out what looked like an arm, and the
closer he got the more he saw, like the fact that the arm was
connected to a shoulder, which was connected to a torso which....

"Faranth, it is a man! What in tarnation was he doing out during
Threadfall?" Didn't these holders know anything? S'avn crouched down
by the outcropping of rock.

"Hey," he spoke, poking the man's shoulder with an outstretched finger.

The man groaned but didn't wake.

"We have a live one." He called back to Mayfeth. S'avn studied the
figure laying prone before him. The man was of some height, not as
tall as S'avn, but had broad shoulders that spoke of a man who should
have plenty of strength and muscle.. only the emaciated, gaunt dips of
his cheeks, and the dark circles under his eyes told S'avn that this
man was anything but healthy.

~*~

Jeyme was in the Weyrbowl patiently bandaging simple wounds. With her
pregnancy, and the way her last one had miscarried so easily, she
didn't fight Falls with the Queens Wing, but put her hands to work
patching up riders as they came back to the Weyr. She couldn't do
anything extensive, but she could smear on numbweed and bandage
things, she had learned that much during Weyrling first aid.

She was just wiping her hands off and getting ready to head back to
her Weyr, the last of the injured filtering out of the Weyrbowl, when
she saw a familiar blue dragon appear above the Weyr. Since Mayfeth
and Quinneth had hatched from the same clutch, she recognized the
dragon easily. She didn't speak much to S'avn, really, she didn't
speak to the man at all, it kept the peace between her and D'hol if
she didn't.

"What the..." She squinted up at the sky. It was obvious that someone
was lying over the neckridge of Savn's blue. She stayed in the
Weyrbowl while the dragon landed.

"S'avn?"

S'avn looked up at the sound of his name. Jeyme. **Great, make that
another round of sweep duties.** He thought as he looked down at her
from Mayfeth's neckridge, "I found this bloke out in an outcropping of
rock. He looks worse for wear." S'avn, while tall, was still filling
out, and it took all of his strength, and some help from Mayfeth, to
bring the limp man down to the ground.

Jeyme's eyebrow was raised with curiosity but she didn't move closer,
"I will go let the healers know that you will need assistance with him
then."

"Thanks." S'avn grunted, even as he heaved the dead weight of the man
down from Mayfeth's neckridge. He was a bit glad that the limp man was
emaciated or he probably would not have been able to lift the man at
his full weight.

Before S'avn could get down Mayfeth's flank, Jeyme had already turned
and retreated into the Weyr toward the infirmary. It wasn't completely
unheard of to find some idiot outside during Threadfall, but Jeyme
wondered what would cause someone to be outside the safety of a Hold
during Threadfall? **Maybe he is a holdless man like Jenackt.**

~*~

"Faranth." Cogre's wizened face scrunched as one of his apprentices
cut away the clothing from the man that had been brought in by the
bluerider. His dirty blonde hair was caked with dirt, sweat, and
blood. Nearly a half month's worth of facial hair covered the square
plains of his cheeks. Cheeks which were gaunt beneath the darkened
circles of his closed eyes. The sockets of his eyes were bruised, a
bluish purple in hue.

"This is a bit more than just being left out during Threadfall." Cogre
said, to no one in particular. While there were dark, garish bruises
scattered across the man's body, the worst injury that Cogre could see
was the mangled left hand. Mud had been caked onto the wound there in
an attempt, Cogre guessed, to ward off infection. **Not that it
worked.**

Sweat beaded across the unconscious man's forehead, evidence of the
fever that burned through his body. "Get that hand cleaned up so I can
look at it." Cogre ordered as he began scrubbing his hands and
forearms. When he studied the hand he made a soft clucking sound with
his tongue, "Poor sot. Someone sawed the finger off, and not with a
sharp knife either."

"Bring me that featherfern tonic for his fever and that
witchhazel-aloe salve that I mixed up yesterday." Before he could
worry about what he guessed was broken ribs, he needed to treat the
infection and fever that were disabling the man. The infection
stemming from the wound on his hand could cause him to lose the entire
hand if proper action was not taken.

"Another day and that hand would have had to go." Cogre told the
unconscious man as he began applying the salve to the now clean wound.
With deft, nimble fingers the elderly healer wrapped the man's left
hand in clean white bandages.

The assisting apprentice lifted the man's head and began spooning in
the featherfern tonic to the man's mouth, "Careful with that. We don't
want it going into the lungs. Only enough to help touch the fever will
be necessary." Cogre instructed. Moving on, Cogre pressed his fingers
along the man's blackened, bruised torso.

"Broken?" The apprentice asked.

"Yes, at least a couple of them are, the others are probably just
bruised. Judging from the bruising," Cogre indicated the patterns of
the bruising for his apprentice to see, "he was kicked multiple
times."

"Wash him up. We will need to cut that hair," Cogre shook his head,
"it is too matted to salvage. Then shave that beard so I can get a
better look at his face. I have a few dragonriders that I need to
check on. I will come back and wrap his ribs once you are finished."

"Yes sir." The apprentice agreed before going to fetch a bowl of warm
water and a washing cloth.

"I don't know who you are, fella, but today was your lucky day." Cogre
told the prone form on the examination table.

Last updated on the May 5th 2024

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