The White Dragon p-4

by Anne McCaffrey

  As N'ton and Lytol vigorously reassured the Harper, Jaxom realized there was a curious restraint about the man, an odd note in his voice when he mentioned Benden or the Weyrwoman. Robinton wasn't worried simply that Lessa had prohibited fire lizards at Benden.

  «There's another aspect of this affair that is nagging at the back of my overactive imagination,» Robinton said. «The matter has brought Southern to everyone's attention.»

  «Why is that a problem?» Lytol asked.

  Robinton took a sip of his wine, delaying his answer as he savored the taste. «Just this: these recent events have made everyone realize that that huge continent is occupied by a mere handful of people.»

  «So?»

  «I know some restless Lord Holders whose halls are crowded, whose cots are jammed. And the Weyrs, instead of protecting the inviolability of the Southern Continent, were half set to force their way in. What's to prevent the Lord Holders from taking the initiative and claiming whole portions of it?»

  «There wouldn't be dragons enough to protect that much area, that's what,» Lytol said. «The Oldtimers surely wouldn't.»

  «They don't really need dragonriders in the South,» Robinton said slowly.

  Lytol stared at him, aghast at such a statement.

  «It's true,» he said. «The land is thoroughly sowed by grubs. Traders have told me that they more or less ignore Falls; Holder Toric just makes certain everyone's safe and all stock is under cover.»

  «There will come a time when no dragonriders will be needed in the North either,» N'ton said, slowly, compounding Lytol's shock.

  «Dragonriders will always be needed on Pern while there is Thread!» Lytol emphasized his conviction by banging the table with his fist.

  «At least in our lifetimes,» Robinton said soothingly. «But I could have wished less interest in Southern. Think it over, Lytol.»

  «More of your thinking ahead, Robinton?» Lytol asked, a sour note in his voice and a jaundiced expression on his face.

  «Looking ahead is far more constructive than looking behind,» said Robinton. He held his clenched fist up. «I'd all the facts in my grasp and I couldn't see the water for the waves.»

  «You've been down to the Southern Continent often, Masterharper?»

  Robinton gave Lytol a long considering look. «I have. Discreetly, I assure you. There are some things that must be seen to be believed.»

  «Such as?»

  Robinton idly stroked Zair as he gazed out, over Lytol's head, at some distant view.

  «Mind you, there are times when looking back can be helpful,» he said and then turned back to the Lord Warder. «Are you aware that we originally, all of us, came from the Southern Continent?»

  Lytol's first surprise at such a sudden turn of the conversation melded into a thoughtful frown. «Yes, that was implicit in the oldest Records.»

  «I've often wondered if there aren't older Records, moldering somewhere in the South.»

  Lytol snorted at the notion. «Moldering is right. There'd be nothing left after so many thousands of Turns.»

  «They had ways of tempering metal, those ancestors of ours, ways that made it impervious to rust and wear. Those plates found at Fort Weyr, the instruments, like the long distance viewer that fascinates Wansor and Fandarel. I don't believe that time can have erased all traces of such clever people.»

  Jaxom glanced at Menolly, recalling hints that she'd let slip. Her eyes were sparkling with suppressed excitement. She knew something that the Harper wasn't saying. Jaxom looked then at the Fort Weyrleader and realized that N'ton knew all about this.

  «The Southern Continent was ceded to the dissident Oldtimers,» Lytol said heavily.

  «And they have already broken their side of the agreement,» N'ton said.

  «Is that any reason for us to break ours?» Lytol asked, drawing his shoulders back and scowling at both Weyrleader and Harper.

  «They occupy only a small tongue of land, jutting out into the Southern Sea,» said Robinton in his smooth way. «They have been unaware of any activity elsewhere.»

  «You've already been exploring in the South?»

  «Judiciously. Judiciously.»

  «And you'd not have your… judicious intrusions discovered?»

  «No,» answered Robinton slowly. «I shall make the knowledge public soon enough. I don't want every disgruntled apprentice and evicted small holder running about indiscriminately, destroying what should be preserved because they haven't the wit to understand it.»

  «What have you discovered so far?»

  «Old mine workings, shored up with lightweight but so durable a material that it is as unscratched today as when it was put in place in the shaft. Tools, powered by who can guess bits and pieces that not even young Benelek can assemble.»

  There was a long silence which Lytol broke with a snort. «Harpers! Harpers are supposed to instruct the young.»

  «And first and foremost, to preserve our heritage!»

  CHAPTER VIII

  Ruatha Hold, Fort Weyr, Fidello's Hold, 15.6.3 15.6.17

  JAXOM WAS DISAPPOINTED that all Lytol's coaxing could not draw more facts from the Harper about his explorations in the South. At the point where Jaxom's fatigue made it difficult for him to keep his eyes open, it occurred to him that Robinton had indeed succeeded in rousing Lytol to support his and N'ton's desire to keep interest in the South to a minimum.

  Jaxom's last waking thought was one of admiration for the Harper's devious methods. No wonder he had not objected to Jaxom training with N'ton when he saw Lytol was in favor of it. The Harper needed the older man as the Lord Holder at Ruatha. Training Ruth to chew firestone kept the young Lord from wanting to take Hold in Lytol's place.

  The next morning Jaxom was positive that he couldn't have moved during the night. He was bindingly stiff, his face and shoulder stung with the Threadscore and that reminded him of Ruth's injury. With no regard for his own discomfort, he whipped aside the furs and, grabbing the numbweed pot as he went, burst into Ruth's weyr.

  The faintest rumble told him that the white dragon was still sound asleep. He also seemed not to have moved for his leg was propped in the same position.

  That made it easier for Jaxom to work and he smeared a new coating of numbweed along the line of the score. Only then did it occur to Jaxom that he and Ruth might have to wait until they'd healed before they could join the weyrlings at Fort Weyr.

  Lytol did not share his thought. The reason Jaxom was going to Fort Weyr was to avoid scoring, to learn how to take care of his dragon and himself during Threadfall. If he got teased because he hadn't ducked fast enough, he deserved it. So, after breaking his fast, Jaxom flew Ruth to the Weyr.

  Fortunately two of those in training were near his own age of eighteen Turns not that being older would have bothered Jaxom as long as he could train Ruth properly. He did have to suppress the insidious urge to excuse Ruth's scoring with the real reason for the supposed clumsiness. He took refuge in knowing that he had achieved more than they'd ever guess a small consolation.

  His first problem in the weyrling class was to relieve Ruth of the embarrassment of the endless fire lizards that settled on him. No sooner was one group dislodged and sent off than another appeared, to the disgust and exasperation of K'nebel, the weyrlingmaster.

  «Does this go on all day wherever you are?» the man asked Jaxom irritably.

  «More or less. They just… come. Especially since… what happened at Benden Weyr.»

  K'nebel snorted his aggravation even as he nodded his understanding. «I don't like to put truth to these notions that dragons flamed fire lizards, but you'll never get Ruth going if the fire lizards don't leave him alone. And if they don't leave him alone, one of 'em will get flamed!»

  So Jaxom had Ruth shoo the fire lizards away as quickly as they arrived. It took time before Ruth remained unencumbered for any appreciable period. Then, either all the fire lizards in the vicinity had looked in, or Ruth had been sufficiently firm and the rest of the morning's
class was undisrupted.

  Despite all the interruptions, K'nebel kept the weyrlings working until the noonday meal was called. Jaxom was invited to stay and, as a mark of his rank, was shown to the large table reserved for senior dragonriders.

  The conversation was dominated by continued speculation about the return of the egg and which one of the queen riders had returned it. The discussions served to reinforce Jaxom's decision to remain silent. He cautioned Ruth, needlessly, it appeared since the white dragon was more interested in chewing firestone and dodging Thread than in past events.

  The fire lizards about him had lost all their previous agitation. Their primary concern now was eating, the secondary one was their hides. With the advent of the warmer weather, they had begun shedding and were plagued by itching. The images they projected to Ruth no longer had alarming content.

  Since he was engaged at Fort Weyr in the mornings, Jaxom had to forego the classes at the Harper and Smith crafthalls. That meant he wouldn't have to endure Menolly's tendency to ask searching questions, and he was well pleased. He was also heartily amused when he realized that Lytol was leaving him several uncommitted hours in the afternoons. Obligingly he and Ruth took off for the Plateau Hold to see how the new wheat was prospering of course.

  Corana was about the hold these days since her brother's wife was near her time. When she showed a pretty concern for his healing score, he did not abuse her notion that he'd acquired it in a legitimate Fall, protecting the Hold from Thread. She rewarded him for that protection in a fashion that embarrassed him even as it relieved him. He'd as soon save his favors for honest endeavor. But he couldn't be annoyed with her when, in the languor that followed their pleasure, she made several references to fire lizards and asked if he'd ever had a chance to find a clutch when he was fighting Thread.

  «Every beach in the North is well staked,» he told her and, noting her intense disappointment, added, «Of course, there are lots of empty beaches in the Southern Continent!»

  «Could you fly in on your Ruth without those Oldtimers knowing?» Clearly Corana knew little of the most recent events, another relief to Jaxom, who was beginning to be bored by the Weyr's preoccupation with that topic.

  Fly in on Ruth made the whole thing seem simple enough; especially as Ruth would not upset strange fire lizards since he had apparently made friends with them all.

  «I suppose I could.» His hesitation was due to the complications of planning an absence long enough to allow him to go South. Corana misconstrued what he said, and again, he was too tenderhearted and too gratified to correct her.

  As he and Ruth winged homeward from the Plateau, it occurred to Jaxom that the ripples from his initial outburst just a short while ago were still spreading. He had finally achieved proper training for Ruth and, if he hadn't taken Hold, at least he was finally enjoying more of the prerogatives of a Lord Holder. He grinned, savoring Corana's sweetness. Judging by her sister's warm welcome, he assumed the Plateau Hold would not object to a half blooded addition. Success in that area would do him no harm in the eyes of Lord Holders. He considered bringing Corana to the Hold, but decided against it. That would be unfair to the other fosterlings and cause trouble for Brand and Lytol. It wasn't as if he didn't have Ruth and couldn't come and go at his leisure and speedily. Furthermore, if he brought Corana to his quarters, she'd demand more of his attention at Ruth's expense than he was willing to give.

  The third afternoon he went to the Plateau Hold, Fidello's wife was in labor and Corana too distracted to do more than beg his pardon for the fuss and excitement. He asked if they wished the Hold's healer, but Fidello said that one of his dependents was skillful in such matters and had said that his wife would have no trouble with the birth. Jaxom made all the appropriate remarks, then left, feeling slightly put off by this unanticipated obstacle to his expectations.

  Why are you laughing? Ruth asked as they winged back to the Hold.

  «Because I'm a fool, Ruth. I'm a fool.»

  I don't think you are. She makes you feel good, not a fool.

  «That's why I'm a fool now, silly dragon. I went up there expecting… expecting to feel good and she's too busy. And only a few sevendays ago I wouldn't have dreamed I'd be as lucky with her. That's why I'm a fool now, Ruth.»

  I will always love you, was Ruth's reply because he felt that was the response Jaxom needed.

  Jaxom reassuringly caressed his dragon's neck ridge, but he couldn't suppress his self deprecatory mirth. He discovered a second obstacle when he returned to the Hold. Lytol informed him that the remainder of Ramoth's clutch would probably Hatch the next day, and that Jaxom would have to put in an appearance at Benden. The Lord Warder peered intently at Jaxom's healed score and nodded.

  «Do try to keep out of the Weyrleaders' sight. They'd know at a glance what that was,» Lytol said. «No sense advertising your folly.»

  Jaxom privately thought the scar gave him a more mature appearance but he promised Lytol he'd stay well away from Lessa and F'lar.

  Jaxom rather enjoyed Hatchings, more so when Lytol was not present. He felt guilty about that but he knew that, at each Hatching, painful memories of Lytol's beloved Larth tortured the man.

  News of the imminent Hatching came to Fort Weyr while Jaxom was flying wing tip in weyrling Fall practice. He finished the maneuver, begged the weyrlingmaster's pardon and took Ruth between to Ruatha so that he could change into proper clothing. Lytol along with Menolly's Rocky reached him at the same moment and requested that he collect Menolly, since Robinton was already at Ista Weyr with the Harperhall's dragon and rider.

  Jaxom put a good face on the request since he could think of no excuse to refuse. Well, he'd hurry her out of the Hall and into the Weyr so quickly that she wouldn't have time to ask any questions.

  When he and Ruth arrived at the Harpercrafthall, Ruth bellowing his name to the watchdragon on the fire heights, Jaxom became furious. Why, there were enough Fort Weyr dragons on the meadow to take half the Hall. Why hadn't she asked one of them? He was determined that she wouldn't have a chance to nag at him and asked Ruth peremptorily to tell her fire lizards that he was here and waiting in the meadow. He had barely formed the words in his mind when Menolly came dashing out of the archway toward him, Beauty, Rocky and Diver chittering in circles above her head. She began shrugging into her riding jacket, awkwardly juggling something from one hand to the other.

  «Get down, Jaxom,» she ordered imperiously. «I can't do it when your back's to me.»

  «Do what?»

  «This!» She held up one hand to show him a small pot. «Get down.»

  «Why?»

  «Don't be dense. You're wasting time. This is to cover that scar. You don't want Lessa and F'lar to see it, do you, and ask awkward questions? Come down! Or we'll be late. And you're not supposed to time it, are you?» She added the last comment as he still hesitated, not altogether reassured by her altruism.

  «I've got my hair brushed over «

  «You'll forget and push it back,» she said, gesturing him to do so now as she unscrewed the pot lid. «I got Oldive to make some without scent. There. Only takes a dab.» She had applied it to his face and then brushed the residue on the skin of his wrist above his glove. «See? It blends in.» She stared critically at him. «Yes, that does the trick. No one would ever know you've been scored.» Then she chuckled. «What does Corana think of your scar?»

  «Corana?»

  «Don't glare at me. Get up on Ruth. We'll be late.

  Very clever of you, Jaxom, to cultivate Corana. You'dve made a good harper with your wits.»

  Jaxom mounted his dragon, furious with her but determined not to rise to her lure. It was just like her to find out such things, hoping to aggravate him. Well, she wasn't going to succeed.

  «Thanks for thinking of the salve, Menolly,» he said when he got his voice under control. «It certainly wouldn't do to annoy Lessa right now, and I do have to be at this Hatching.»

  «Indeed you do.»

  Her
tone was loaded but he'd no time to figure out what she meant as Ruth took them up and, with no further direction, between to Benden Weyr. No, he wouldn't let her rouse him. But she was bloody clever, this Harper girl.

  Ruth came out of between midsyllable. «… uth. I'm Ruth. I'm Ruth.»

  Which reminded Jaxom and he twisted his head about to look at Menolly's left shoulder.

  «Don't worry. They're safely in Brekke's weyr.»

  «All of them?»

  «Shells, no, Jaxom. Only Beauty and the three bronzes. She may be mating soon and the boys won't leave her alone for a moment.» Menolly chuckled again.

  «Are all that clutch spoken for?»

  «What? Count the eggs before they're laid? Not at all!» Menolly sounded repressive. «Why? You don't want one, do you?»

  «Not I.»

  Menolly burst out laughing at his telling rejoinder and he groaned. Well, let her have her laugh.

  «What would I do with a fire lizard?» he went on to settle her. «I promised Corana I'd see if I could get one for her. She's been very… kind to me, you know.» He was rewarded by the sound of Menolly's gulp of surprise.

  Then she smacked him across the shoulder blade with her closed fist and he winced, then ducked away from her.

  «Leave off, Menolly! I've a score on that shoulder, too.» He spoke with more irritation than he meant and then cursed himself for reminding her of what he avoided mentioning.

  «I am sorry, Jaxom,» she said with such contrition that Jaxom was mollified. «How much scoring did you get?»

  «Face, shoulder and thigh.»

  She caught at his other shoulder. «Listen! They're thrumming wildly. And, look, there are candidates entering the Hatching Ground. Can we fly right in?»

  Jaxom directed Ruth in through the upper entrance of the Hatching Ground. Bronzes were still bearing visitors to the Ground. As Ruth entered, Jaxom found his gaze going immediately to the spot by the arch where he and Ruth had transferred to return the egg. He felt a sudden surge of pride at his feat.

  «I see Robinton, Jaxom. There on the fourth tier. Near the Istan colors. Would you sit with us, Jaxom?» There was an entreaty in her tone, and a slight emphasis that puzzled Jaxom. Who wouldn't want to sit with the Masterharper of Pern?