Solitaire

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 24th March 2024
Series: The Hunt for Gil

Characters: Alyena, Gilbek
Description: Alyena visits Gil in the cliff weyr
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 9, day 11 of Turn 11

The morning light crept into the cliff weyr, warming first the empty
dragon's couch and then the bed where the man had finally curled up
under a blanket to sleep. He stirred, then sat up abruptly with a gasp,
pushing himself back against the stone wall, ready to defend himself. He
wasn't in the cothold...but he wasn't in the cell in the quarry, either.

He was in the Weyr.

There was no-one else there, just the light, the faint cries of sea
avians and the rhythmic crashing of waves on rock from far below. The
rapid beating of his heart slowed as the events of the previous day came
back to him. Dragons surrounding him, with glowing red eyes. The flight,
the frozen chill of /between/, and the ledge with the ocean far below.

Across the inner cavern, on the table, was a stack of hides and a tray
with an empty plate and a bowl. A reminder that they would be back.

He really wanted to be away before that happened. He didn't have to take
the Weyrleader's word for it that escape was impossible...

He found Rhysel's old jacket lying on the floor by the bed and pulled it
on - there was a slight chill in the air off the sea - then walked
outside onto the ledge. In the bright morning, he could see even more
clearly how high up he was. Foam sparkled as the waves hit the base of
the cliffs far below. Even if he could get down, there was no shoreline
path visible - just the cliff face and a few jagged rocks. He'd be
smashed against them by the waves.

He turned and tilted his head back, shading his eyes. What about up? The
top of the cliff was closer, maybe a few dragonlengths, but the rock
looked sheer, smoothed by who knew how many Turns of blasting by the
salt wind from the ocean. A better climber might have found small cracks
and crevices to grip, or if he had a rope... When he tried to raise his
arms above his head, though, he felt the warning pull of the scars and
the damaged muscles in his back.

Even if he'd had his full strength, he'd no way of knowing what was at
the top, or if there was a route back to the ground from there. Perhaps,
if he was desperate enough...

As he looked up, a shadow suddenly appeared against the sunlight, a
wedge-shaped head with large, faceted eyes and a long neck that
stretched out over the edge of the clifftop. Claws gripped stone with a
faint scraping sound. Gil took a step backwards without thinking, and
felt his heart jolt, remembering the edge behind him. He dropped to a
crouch, flattening his palms against the stone, his head swimming with
dizziness.

When he'd recovered enough to look up again, he met the gaze of a green
dragon, perched on the top of the cliff. She tilted her head to one
side, as if curious about him. There was a pale scar running from just
below her left headknob down to her jaw, narrowly missing the eye.
Threadscore?

He wondered if she was talking to her rider, or her fellow dragonkin.
Was she there to watch him, or just enjoying the sun? What would she do
if he tried to climb?

Gil pushed himself to his feet. Reluctantly, he had to admit that
climbing was not a good option. He went back inside and examined the
interior of the weyr carefully in case he'd missed a way out - if not a
door, maybe there was a drain or a shaft - but it appeared to be
completely sealed.

That left persuading someone, by one means or another, to fly him out of
here. He sighed and sat down at the table. In his experience, taking
hostages went badly for everyone involved, and he really had no heart to
threaten a dragonrider. All he could do was wait and keep his eyes open
for an opportunity. They couldn't keep him here forever - could they?

As if in response to his thought, he heard the beating of wings from
outside and a draconic bugle, and saw a green alighting on the ledge
outside, calling out to her fellow dragon above. She carried two people
- a solidly built man, the rider from his gear, and a slight woman with
a dark braid. She slipped down first and reached up as the man passed
her a covered basket. He recognised Alyena, with some relief, and
stepped out into the sunlight.

"Thank you, Gemarinth." She bowed her head to the dragon, then turned to
Gil. "Good morning. I've brought you some breakfast." She looked up at
the greenrider. "I need to collect the tray from last night."

The man cast a suspicious look at Gil, but swung a leg over and slid
down the dragon's side. "All right. Be careful."

Gil took the basket from her and she followed him back inside. The
dragonrider remained at the entrance, leaning against the arch of rock
and watching them closely. He might be allowed visitors, but he clearly
wasn't trusted to talk to them in private.

"Thank you," he said, setting the basket down on the table. "I can't
complain about the food here. I haven't eaten this well in Turns."

"The Weyr is well provided for. It's quite an operation, feeding so
many," Alyena said. "Dragonriders, support staff, crafters, families and
children. I'd never seen anything like it, even at the Hold."

"And you live here now?"

"Yes, I work for the Headwoman." Alyena remembered how she'd got that
place and the guilt returned, bringing a faint colour to her cheeks.
"Evalya goes to classes with the harper, and R'ayl helps with the
weyrlings. He's too young for the fighting Wings."

Gil hadn't thought the lad on the blue looked old enough to be out of
harper classes himself, let alone to fight Thread. "I'm glad you've
found a place. It can't have been easy." Not after what had happened to
her son here. She really must have had nowhere else to go. "You got to
the Hold all right, that night?"

Alyena shook her head. "We hid in a wood near the cot, and the
dragonriders found us there." She didn't mention the man who'd followed
and attacked them, since Gil looked as though he carried enough guilt
already. She didn't think he'd want to know what happened to that man,
either.

"I should have stayed with you, escorted you back to the Hold." Gil sat
down and leaned his elbows on the table. "I thought I had to get back
before they suspected me. Much good that did. They already knew."

"You did enough. If it wasn't for you, Evalya and I would both be dead."
She took the chair across from him and laid a hand lightly on his arm.
The dragonrider watching them shifted his stance, but didn't object. "I
heard they beat you, and you were ill." There had been rumours swirling
in the lower caverns last night about his arrival, and she'd noticed a
slight stiffness in his movement when he'd sat down. "Do you need to see
a healer?"

"No." His response was instant. "No - I mean, thank you, but it's
nothing. It's healed, as much as it'll ever be."

"All right." Alyena looked uncertain, but she let it be for now. "Is
there anything else you need?"

Gil started to shake his head, then spoke. "Well, I - I'd like to bathe
and wash my clothes, if it's possible." He looked down, shamed, aware of
that he'd been wearing the same shirt and trousers since the previous
day's hunt.

"I'll ask." She started to get up, then remembered something. "Oh, I
brought this for you." From the pocket of her dress, she took a pack of
cards and set it on the table, beside the basket. "I don't know if you
play, but I thought it might pass the time."

"Aye, I played." For a moment, the knot of fear inside him loosened a
little, and he managed a smile. "Solitaire."

"That's what I thought. If there's anything else - I could ask for a
book, maybe?"

Gil's brow rose. "If it's possible. We never had them at the Hold - only
the holder and his lady did. And before then, at Emerald Falls, just
those printed sheets you'd sometimes get, with short tales, and
ballads..." His voice trailed off and he seemed lost in thought.

"You were at Emerald Falls?" Alyena asked.

He nodded. "In the guards, in the last Lord Holder's time."

"Oh. My husband was, too." Her brow creased. "Did you know him? Cronfur
was his name. And Alvard, my father, he was too."

"I do. Cronfur was...older, a few Turns ahead of me." She sensed at
once, from the careful politeness in his voice, that they'd not been
close, though there wasn't any obvious hostility. "I remember being
drilled by Alvard, though. He was a tough fighter. We learned a lot from
him."

"He's retired now. They live with my brother-in-law and his family,"
Alyena said, keeping her voice neutral. Though she understood more than
most how little some cotholds had to spare, there was still a wound
there, that her parents hadn't helped her after Cronfur had died.

Gil nodded. "I heard what happened to Cronfur, too." Most of the Hold
had, and it had caused much outrage at White Hollow. "I'm sorry."

"He was angry." Alyena stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. "It
was as though the dragonrider had insulted him personally. He talked
about it constantly, working himself up into a fury. I tried to tell him
to let it go, that there was nothing we could do, but he wouldn't
listen. He was filled with so much rage. And then Grevan was the
same..." She looked up. "I'm sorry. I haven't told anyone this before."
It hadn't seemed right to talk to the weyrfolk about it.

"That's all right," Gil said quietly. He knew the kind of man she meant.

Alyena let out a breath. "I'd better go." She'd not realised what
memories this visit might bring back, and it certainly wasn't fair to
burden Gil with them, too.

He got to his feet quickly. "Of course. Thank you for - " He gestured to
the table, the basket and the pack of cards. "Oh, these are for the
Weyrleader." He picked up the neat stack of hides and handed them to her.

She glanced at the topmost. It was a list of names, written in a neat,
careful hand, headed by the name of a Holder. She wondered if that was
the man who'd sent him to her, with the marks and empty promises. Which
one of those names had persuaded Grevan to go to the Weyr, which had
smuggled him in...

"I'll see that he gets them."

"Thank you. And please give my regards to your son, and my duty to his
dragon."

"I will." She started for the entrance, then hesitated, and turned,
silhouetted against the bright light, her hands gripping the tray. "I...
It was me."

"What?" Gil had started to follow her. He seemed confused, but the
greenrider was suddenly alert, watching him closely.

"I gave the Weyrleader your name. It was a deal, that if I told them,
they'd take in my daughter. So she wouldn't be holdless," Alyena said in
a rush. "I'm sorry. I know..." She glanced at the greenrider. "You
deserved better from me, after you warned me that night."

Gil was quiet for a long time, so long she wondered if he hadn't
understood. Then, mindful of the watching dragon and rider, he remained
where he was but held up his hands, palms out, in a reassuring gesture.
"It's all right. You did what you needed to do. Who knows - if the Weyr
hadn't found me, the Holder and his men might have, eventually. I'd have
died before going back to that quarry."

"I...thank you." The guilt had weighed on her since she'd spoken to the
Weyrleader, and worse since he'd been caught. She still carried it, not
knowing what his fate would be, but it was lessened a little. "I'll come
back when I can."

"I'd like that. If you don't mind it, I'd like to hear more about your
life here," Gil said, the atmosphere lightening as he spoke. "I've heard
about the Weyr all my life, but I've never known what it's really like."

"I didn't, either. It's not what I thought. You'll see." Alyena smiled,
briefly. Then she turned and walked out to the ledge. The greenrider
followed and took the hides from her, rolling them up and tucking them
into his riding jacket before helping her up to the dragon's back.

Gil watched them as they took off, gliding downwards from the ledge and
circling around the cliffs until they were out of sight. When he looked
up, he saw the other green, the scarred one, still watching him. He
returned her gaze for a moment, then bowed, raised a hand in farewell
and went back inside.

Inside the breakfast basket was a covered bowl, wrapped in a cloth - hot
porridge - a jug of water and another of klah, and some fruit. He sat at
began to eat, slowly, enjoying the flavours - while with his free hand,
he began to turn over the battered pack of dragonpoker cards, dealing
out a game of solitaire.

Last updated on the July 2nd 2024

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Solitaire