A Gift of Dragons - Anne McCaffrey [65]
“Did I really truly hear him speaking to me?” Ru asked C’tic, who grinned at them. The question Nian sensed in her brother was that, to him, being bespoken by a dragon meant that he had a right to be a candidate.
“Dragons speak to anyone they want to,” C’tic said, reaching to remove another old dressing. Ru scooted off immediately to provide a new one.
“Will it be like that in the Impression?” Nian asked. “We will hear a dragon’s voice in our heads?”
“Yes, that’s how it happens,” and C’tic had the same soft expression on his face as H’ran had had.
“And you can always hear them?” Nian asked. “I can usually hear my twin brother—especially if he’s in trouble.”
“Ah, I thought you two looked alike.”
“Oh, we’re not completely alike,” Nian said. “Neru’s much smarter and stronger. He’ll make a splendid dragonrider.”
“You both will,” C’tic surprised her by saying.
“How do you know that?”
“My dragon told me so,” C’tic said, and his smile was kind, not teasing.
Two more dressings were needed and then C’tic thanked them for their assistance.
“Can we help again?” Nian asked.
That will depend on what happens at the Hatching, Brith replied himself. But I would be glad of such light fingers. Maybe you should train to be a dragon healer.
Nian blinked, startled by his remark.
“Well, you could, you know,” Ru said, regarding his sister with some pride. “You’re always tending the injured at the Hold.”
“Come along, now, candidates,” H’ran said. “It is nearly dinnertime.”
“Oh, good,” Ru said, rubbing his hands together. “I’m hungry.”
“Wash your hands well,” C’tic said, pointing to a sink to one side of the infirmary. “Remember, you’ve been handling numbweed. If you don’t scrub your hands thoroughly now, some of the numbweed may rub off on your lips when you start eating. Believe me, I know, it’s no fun trying to eat your food when your lips are completely numb. Added to that, you’ll slobber all over yourself and not even realize it. Not a pretty sight!” While their laughter subsided, the candidates used the scrubbing brushes at the sink and lathered their hands with sweetsand until their skin was rubbed red. As they washed, aromatic odors wafted in their direction and promised a fine meal. By the time they reached the Lower Cavern, weyrfolk were setting generous platters and bowls on the table for them to serve themselves.
“Hey, this is great food,” Neru said after he took his first heaping forkful.
“It’s meat, you mean,” Nian said, teasing her brother.
“Makes a great change from all that fish,” Neru replied, selecting yet another slice from the platter in the center of the table.
“Just don’t make a pig of yourself here,” she added in a low tone so no one else would hear her. “We’ve never gone hungry, you know, and we must uphold the honor of Lado Hold.”
“Humph,” Neru grunted and gestured around the table where the other candidates were equally as diligent in reducing the contents of the various serving dishes. “Tell that to the others.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Nian said with great dignity.
After some of the young weyrfolk cleared the table, the Weyrleader at the head table got to his feet.
“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, we have candidates as our guests. The Hatching may even come tonight,” he added, and the candidates gasped as one. He grinned at them. “We are ever at our dragons’ pleasure. But all is ready for their arrival. Thank you all for coming at such short notice. If you have any questions, please ask the dragonrider nearest you or our good H’ran. Remember, they were once candidates just like you. And just as nervous!”
“He’s nice. Just like our Holder,” Nian murmured to her brother.
“But Hatching in the middle of the night?” Ru said. “That’s awkward.”
She sniffed and then saw a man in harper blue, carrying a gitar, place a stool on the platform and settle himself. He strummed a chord, and people from the audience began shouting for the songs they wanted to hear.
“Oh, I could get used to this,” Nian said, settling back. The evenings when Harper Ruart entertained