A Gift of Dragons by Anne McCaffrey Read Free Book Online

dragon, who waddled forward to place his five-clawed paws about the lever.
    “Not until I say go, Heth,” K’van cautioned, grinning a bit at Aramina as they knelt in the dust beside the unconscious Dowell, fastening their hands under the man’s armpits. “Heave, Heth! Heave!”
    As quickly as they could, Aramina and K’van hauled Dowell’s body from under the wagon. With a cry of incredulous relief, Barla rushed to her husband’s side, opening his shirt to judge the extent of his injury. K’van had the presence of mind to replace the fallen block and prop the wagon up.
    “You’ll need the wheel back on,” he said to Aramina. “That was fine, Heth.”
    I am very strong
, said the dragon with a trace of smugness, his great faceted eyes whirling bluey green as he maintained pressure on the lever.
    “Oh, you are indeed, you beautiful, beautiful creature,” cried Aramina.
    “All right, Heth, ease it down,” said K’van, holding the block in place. “Slowly now.”
    The wagon settled, creaking as the block took its weight. K’van fumbled about in the grass and dust and triumphantly held up the pegs.
    “Mother?” Aramina’s trembling voice held a question as she turned to look at her father.
    “I can’t find anything broken,” Barla said in a low unsteady voice, “but look . . .” Her hand indicated the terrible line of bruising already discoloring the skin. Carefully she smoothed the hair back from Dowell’s brow, her expression of concerned tenderness causing the two young people to exchange embarrassed glances.
    K’van touched Aramina’s arm. “Do you know how to set the wheel back on the axle?” He gave her a rueful glance as he proffered the pegs. “I don’t.”
    “Whyever should you?” Aramina wanted to know as she took the pegs and noticed, with a pang, how carefully Dowell had made a cotter hole in the kingpin. “You’re a dragonrider.”
    “Not all that long,” he said with a grin as he helped her lift the wheel and roll it into position. “And weyrlings are taught a little bit of every craft needed by the Weyr. You never know when something will come in handy. Like now!” He said this on the end of a grunt as the two young people tried to force the wheel onto the axle.
    “It’s the dirt encrusted on the hub,” Aramina said as K’van paused uncertainly. With her belt knife, she scraped off the caked dirt, found a large rock, and, with a healthy knock, set the wheel firmly on. With another few taps of her rock, she rammed the kingpin through and then the cotter pin into its place.
    “You’re deft at that,” K’van said admiringly.
    “Practice.”
    With Heth’s assistance, they removed the block from under the wagon.
    “Have you far to go?” K’van asked then. “Thread falls soon and, as I recall, the foresters’ hold is a long ways up the track.”
    Barla stifled a sound in her throat, but Aramina had an answer ready.
    “I know,” Aramina lied calmly, “but this accident delayed us. However, there’s a cave not far up the track where we can wait out Threadfall.”
    “Is it large?” asked K’van.
    “Large enough. Why?” Aramina asked, suddenly wary.
    “Well, just before you called us,” and K’van grinned ingenuously for her temerity, “Heth spotted a band of runners beyond the river. Are they part of your group?”
    “No.” Barla groaned aloud, looking wildly up at Aramina.
    “There shouldn’t be anyone else in this part of Lord Asgenar’s forests,” Aramina said with all the indignation she could muster. “We were warned that holdless raiders have been seen.”
    “Holdless men?” K’van was instantly alert. “If they are, they’ll disperse once they’ve seen me. Look, let me help you get your father into the wagon and see you safely on your way to the cave. I’ll take care of the raiders. And warn Lord Asgenar, too.”
    Aramina hadn’t expected that, but she said what was appropriate, determined to play out her part in this charade. She