Betrayal

Writers: Devin, Estelle
Date Posted: 5th March 2025
Series: Guarding Gil

Characters: Gilbek, Tr'vel, Talryne, R'ayl, Alyena, N'vanik, Ingrizon
Description: Gil recognizes a visitor to the Weyr with sinister intentions
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 3, day 3 of Turn 12

Tr'vel

Talryne

N'vanik

Gil moved away from the serving tables, no longer shy about filling his
plate for the evening meal. Now that his health had improved and he was
stronger than he'd been since his illness, he'd progressed to heavier
and longer work periods. Today he'd been unloading tithe wagons and
storing away the goods under the direction of one of the Headwoman's
assistants, and then he'd been assigned to help in the kitchens, where
there was always a need for scrubbing pots and peeling tubers.

It was the kind of work he'd done as a boy in the hold where he'd grown
up, before he'd gone to Emerald Falls to join the guards, and it was
oddly comforting to lose himself in it, as if no time had passed at all.
The scent of baking bread and spicy stew had given him as much of an
appetite as the fetching and carrying.

He glanced back at the dragonrider who accompanied him, as always.
Although it had been awkward since the day Eboroth had chased the green,
he'd been relieved, after spending so much time in the glowering
presence of C'nal, to see Tr'vel arriving on his weyr ledge again. More
than that, what Tr'vel had said that day about trust had stayed with
him, nagging at him. For reasons he couldn't entirely understand, he
wanted to earn that trust back.

As he turned, his eye was caught by someone moving through the crowd,
and he frowned. He could only see the back of a head of dark hair, and
so he couldn't place what it was that drew his attention. It was an
instinct - something about the way the man was walking purposefully
through the evening crowd of the dining cavern, not carrying a tray.
Something felt both familiar and wrong. He was hardly aware that he'd
stopped in his tracks and was staring.

"Something wrong?" Tr'vel asked.

Gil didn't answer immediately. Why didn't the man belong? He was heading
towards a table occupied by what looked like a group of crafters. A
visiting journeyman? But then he stepped sideways, out of the path of a
drudge, and Gil caught a glimpse of his profile - and he knew.

The tray slipped from his fingers and fell with a crash, sending shards
of broken plate and glass flying and stew and rivergrains slopping over
the floor. As heads turned, Gil leapt over the mess and sprinted towards
the man he'd seen, even leaping up onto a bench to scramble over a table
in his way.

For a heartbeat Tr'vel stood frozen in shock, then he took off after
Gil, anger and bitter betrayal filling his chest. All this time he
must have been waiting, planning, and now . . . what was he going to
do in the middle of a crowded dining cavern?

Since the weyrlings had graduated, R'ayl had been spending more time
with the weaver apprentices, and that day he'd joined them at their
table for dinner. The first inkling he had that something was wrong came
when he noticed his companions across the table were looking curiously
at someone behind him. R'ayl turned around on his bench to look, and got
a confused impression of a tall, gaunt figure in travel-stained clothes.
The man was a stranger to him, but his features were twisted into a
snarl of pure hatred.

"This is what happens to traitors!" The harsh voice rose to a bellow at
the last word. He raised his arm, and R'ayl couldn't move, hypnotized by
the glint of a blade descending towards his throat.

Then, someone slammed into the man from the side, sending them both
flying. One of the apprentices screamed, and outside a young dragon
could be heard howling in terror and distress. The two men - the
attacker and the one who'd tackled him - were rolling on the stone
floor, the knife flashing wildly, until the second man managed to get a
hold on the first one's wrist and a knee into his back.

Gil gritted his teeth against the pain and the protests of his damaged
back. "Drop the knife!" Blood soaked his arm and trickled down to his
wrist, making his grip slippery. The man was shouting something
incoherent about dragonriders and traitors, writhing and trying to throw
him off. The last time he'd done this, he'd been heavier... "Drop it!"
In a last effort, he pushed down hard. There was a sharp snap, the man
screamed and the knife fell from his nerveless fingers.

Then Tr'vel was there, kicking the knife away. His mind spun, but it
was clear enough that the stranger on the ground had pulled a knife on
a dragonrider . . . and Gil had stopped him. "Get him up," the
bluerider said in a low, angry voice.

Talryne had been sitting beside R'ayl and had jumped to her feet just
as Gil crashed into the attacker. She wrapped protective arms around
the boy. "It's okay. You're safe, R'ayl. You're safe."

The shock of the attack was just hitting the young bluerider, his thin
form starting to shake. Who was the man? He'd never seen him before, but
his eyes had been filled with loathing. He tried to focus on calming his
dragon. **I'm all right, Delorth. I'm not hurt.**

Gil had taken advantage of the brief moment when the man stopped
struggling to twist his injured arm behind his back and pull him up to
his knees, then to his feet. "Careful - don't come too close. He could
have another weapon." He was suddenly aware what this might look like,
if people hadn't seen. "He tried to stab the young lad."

"He's a traitor," the man hissed. "He betrayed his Master."

Outside, Delorth roared in fear again and R'ayl buried his head in
Talryne's shoulder. He should have known he would never escape from Shuvan.

Tr'vel had a lot of questions, but he focused on the task at hand. He
had a brief moment of wondering if this was all a trick and his eyes
met Gil's briefly. But then he said, "Keep hold of him, I'll search
for weapons." He began patting the stranger down.

"Don't touch me. Dragonrider scum." The man tried to wrench free, but
Gil set his jaw and hung on, though his back was seized with agony. "I'm
of the Blood!"

"You drew a knife on a dragonrider, I don't care who you are." Tr'vel
straightened after checking the man's boots. A cold, quiet fury burned
in his heart at the thought of this man hurting R'ayl. "No other
weapons." He considered taking over, but since Gil had been the one to
stop him, Gil should get the credit. "We should take him to the
Weyrleader. Can someone get that knife for me?" A crowd had gathered
around them and he couldn't see where the blade had ended up.

One of the weavers ducked under the table and retrieved the knife,
holding it gingerly by the hilt, while a pale-faced drudge brought over
a clean cloth to wrap the stained blade. As they did so, there was a
jostling in the crowd and a woman pushed her way through. With a cry of
horror, Alyena sank down on the bench beside her son, searching for wounds.

"R'ayl, are you hurt?"

"No, Mama." R'ayl pointed towards Gil, whose shirtsleeve was now stained
crimson. "He stopped him."

"The whole nest of snakes is here," the man sneered. "You should have
burned with your brats."

"Don't listen to him, ma'am." Gil glanced at Tr'vel. "Let's get him out
of here."

Talryne tensed. While she did have some fear for what very nearly
happened, what she felt more was anger. She had an urge to punch that
man. }:N'vanik comes,:{ Loseth said, mindvoice edged with anger.

**Tell him to go to his office. They're bringing the man there. If
N'vanik comes here he'll just make things worse,** she told the
bronze. Things were already tense enough without the Weyrleader
shouting in the dining cavern.

Tr'vel took the wrapped blade and nodded to Gil. "Lead the way."

Gil pushed the man, but he resisted, dragging his feet. "For your own
safety, Holder," he said in a low voice. The murmuring of the crowd was
growing menacing as word spread of what had happened, and he hoped the
Headwoman would be able to calm them down.

He followed the tunnel, turning where Tr'vel indicated, into the
corridor where the ranking dragonriders' offices were found. He'd never
been here before, but he didn't have much of a chance to take in his
surroundings since his attention was focused on making sure the prisoner
didn't slip out of his grasp.

Tr'vel kept a careful watch, making sure the holder didn't break
loose. As they made the last turn, he saw the Weyrleader standing in
the doorway of his office with his arms crossed, looking
understandably furious.

"Bring him in here."

"I might need help," Gil said over his shoulder to Tr'vel, keeping his
voice low as he steered the man towards the office. "My back..." The
energy that had propelled him into the fight had drained away, and now
they were here, he feared losing his grip and allowing the man to leap
at the Weyrleader.

"Let me take him." Tr'vel was surprised at how gentle his voice
sounded. "You go sit down."

N'vanik glared at the holder without an ounce of fear. "Try it. I want
answers from you but I'd be happy to snap your neck right here." He'd
gotten bits of information from Talryne through Loseth. This man had
come at R'ayl with a knife and Talryne had been right next to him. Tal
could have . . .

The holder spat, contemptuously. "I've got nothing to say to you,
dragonrider."

Gil waited until Tr'vel had handed over the knife and then let him take
hold of the man, exhaling in relief. "Careful. I think his wrist's
broken." He followed them into the office, pressing his palm over the
gash on his left arm. Though he was feeling light-headed, he remained
standing. He had some explaining to do, even if the man refused to speak.

"This is Holder Ingrizon, Weyrleader. He's the brother-in-law of the
Holder of White Hollow. He was the one... He gave the order to burn down
Alyena's cothold."

The holder turned his head to stare at Gil, eyes bulging from a face
with all the color drained away. "You! But...you're supposed to be dead!"

N'vanik looked between them, pieces fitting together. He smiled, sharp
and feral. "Oh, good. We've been lookin' for you. Wanted for crimes,
running from justice . . . holdless." If Corofel disagreed with that
assessment, N'vanik would just bully him into it.

"He came at bluerider R'ayl with a knife, sir," Tr'vel said. "Gil
stopped him."

"Obriel said he'd taken care of you. That stupid, greedy worm - he lied
to me!" Ingrizon's face contorted, and he let out a peculiar, shrill
sound that Gil realized was hysterical laughter. "It wasn't that
cringing brat who betrayed us. It was you! I attacked the wrong one!"
His body jerked violently as he tried to fling himself at the former
guardsman. "You destroyed everything!"

Gil stood his ground, though he'd turned as pale as the other man. "You
shouldn't have ordered me to kill a woman and her children. I wasn't
likely to forget your face after that."

Tr'vel kept his hold on the struggling man easily.

Handy that Ingrizon was so mad at Gil that it made him talk. "Gil, why
don't you sit down," N'vanik said. The man looked shaky and pale and
his arm was obviously bleeding. "I'll have a healer look at you as
soon as we're done here." Then he turned his attention back to
Ingrizon. "So you came here to kill R'ayl because you thought he
tattled on you?"

"That ungrateful wretch! He still gave up Shuvan. He's a disgrace to his
brother's memory." Ingrizon sneered. "You should be thanking me for
disposing of the little runt."

Tr'vel squeezed Ingrizon's injured wrist just a little.

"I would never thank anyone for murdering a _child_," N'vanik growled,
Loseth echoing him with a roar. "Born under the Red Star, the lot of
you. I can't wait until we burn you all out like the Thread you are."

The man's agonized yelp was lost in the dragon's roar, but he recovered
himself enough for one last poisonous retort. "You should start by
burning _him_." He nodded towards Gil, who'd sat down in a chair by the
wall, looking rather grey and exhausted as he tried to keep blood off
the Weyrleader's furnishings. "He betrayed us, and he'll betray you. His
word means nothing."

Yelling at Ingrizon might feel good. Hitting him definitely would, but
N'vanik needed to calm down and reassure his weyrfolk. And he
desperately needed to see Talryne. "Take him to one of the cliff
weyrs," N'vanik told Tr'vel.

"Yes sir." The bluerider marched the prisoner out of the office.

When the door closed behind them, the Weyrleader let out a heavy sigh.
"Thank you, Gil. You saved R'ayl's life, and maybe my weyrmate's. I
owe you." Maybe the holder was right and Gil was waiting to betray
them, but he'd been here months and if he wanted to hurt weyrfolk all
he had to do was stand back and let Ingrizon kill R'ayl.

"It's a pleasure, Weyrleader." Gil managed a brief smile as he stood.
"Can't think of many people I'd want to tackle to the ground more than
Holder Ingrizon."

That surprised a little chuckle out of N'vanik. "I'll walk you to the
infirmary." As he held the door, he considered what to say next.

"Thanks." Gil waited outside, letting N'vanik lead since he wasn't quite
sure of his way back to the lower caverns. He hesitated before speaking,
Ingrizon's last words ringing in his ears. "What he said, about
betraying you..."

"Is he wrong?"

Gil glanced at the Weyrleader. "I was a loyal guard. I never thought I
would turn on my Holder and his family, but I couldn't do what he asked
me to." He thought of Tr'vel, and the other riders of Lightning Wing.
"It's different here. I think I could be loyal again, to the Weyr."

Shards, N'vanik sure hoped so. "I'm gonna move you to a weyr with
lower caverns access. You'll still have an escort and the door will be
locked at night, but . . . it'll be unlocked during the day."

The holder let out a breath of startled relief. He was surprised to find
that it wasn't the extra freedom so much as the thought that someone
trusted him, even if only a little, that made him feel more pride than
he had in a long time. "Thank you. I won't abuse the privilege." He
smiled. "Although I will miss the view."

N'vanik snorted. "You'll be able to see the Weyrbowl now. Not as
peaceful I suppose, but there's always something going on." They took
a turn in the corridor.

"I'd like that." Their surroundings were becoming more familiar to Gil
as they approached the lower caverns. "I think I could work for longer,
if the healers don't mind about this." He lifted his injured arm slightly.

"We'll see what they say." N'vanik thought it was likely they'd order
at least a day or two of rest. "If we have a trial for Ingrizon,
you'll testify?"

"Yes, of course." Gil had attended and spoken at trials before, when
he'd been a guard back at Emerald Falls. He remembered enough to know it
wasn't pleasant, but it was his duty. "He might say that I have a grudge
against him, and...he wouldn't be entirely wrong. But there were plenty
of witnesses to what he did."

The Weyrleader nodded. "The Harper Hall has gathered some evidence
against him. Shards, I hate how this happened, but at least we've got
the flaming tunnelsnake now." They reached the infirmary and N'vanik
said. "I trust you to wait here until Tr'vel comes, but I _don't_
trust you to follow the healer's orders, so I want them to write it
down. Give me a little time to arrange your new weyr with the
Headwoman."

"Yes, Weyrleader." Gil had to smile - he wouldn't have trusted himself
to obey the healer, either. He took a seat in the waiting area.

"You again." A journeyman healer came over to them, frowning. "What have
you done to yourself now? Let me see." He winced as Gil peeled his
bloodied hand away from the wound. "That's going to need cleaning and
stitches. You should have come here at once. This way."

Gil gave the Weyrleader a helpless look as he was ushered away to one of
the examination rooms.

Last updated on the March 19th 2025

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Betrayal