The White Dragon p-4

by Anne McCaffrey

  «Where're those mines located that Toric's trading from?»

  «Here.» Robinton's finger dropped to the foothill shading, slightly to the west of the settlement and well inland.

  F'lar considered the location, walking his fingers back across the well stretched hide to the Weyr's location. «And where's this cove of yours?»

  Robinton pointed to a spot which was as far distant from the Southern Weyr as Ruatha was from Benden. «In this area. There're quite a few small coves in the coastline. I couldn't say exactly which one it was, but in this general location.»

  F'lar mumbled about his recollection being all too general and how would a dragon take the specific direction he'd need to go between.

  «Dead center in the cove is the cone of an old mountain, perfectly symmetrical.» Robinton gestured appropriately. «Zair was with me and could give Ruth the proper image.» Robinton turned his head slightly and gave Jaxom a private wink.

  «Could Ruth take a direction from a fire lizard?» F'lar asked Jaxom, frowning at the unreliability of the source.

  «He has,» Jaxom remarked, and Robinton caught the glint of amusement in the lad's eyes. He began to wonder where fire lizards had already led the white dragon. Would Menolly know?

  «What is this?» F'lar demanded suddenly. «A conspiracy to restore fire lizards to good odor?»

  «I thought we were forming a cooperative venture to locate D'ram,» Robinton replied in mild rebuke.

  F'lar snorted and bent to study the maps.

  The cooperation, Robinton realized, would be all on Ruth's part. The outcome would finally depend on whether or not the Southern fire lizards were attracted to the white dragon. Otherwise, Jaxom had agreed to try judicious time jumps backward in the cove… if, F'lar amended, Jaxom was able to find the proper one.

  The subject of fire lizard memory was discussed again; F'lar unwilling to concede that, unlike the dragons they otherwise resembled, the little creatures were capable of recall. Their tales might all be imaginary, the results of sun dreams and insubstantial. To that Robinton replied that imagination relied on memory without one, the other was impossible. The afternoon drew to a close, emphasized by the return of the fosterlings to the Hold after a day's field tour with Brand. F'lar noted that he'd been gone far longer than he had intended when he set out from Benden. He cautioned Jaxom to be careful timing it advice which Robinton suspected F'lar had best take to heart himself and to take no risks with himself or his dragon. If he didn't locate the cove, he was not to waste time and energy but return. If he did find D'ram, preferably he was to mark the time and place and return immediately to Benden with the coordinate for F'lar. F'lar did not want to intrude on D'ram's grief unnecessarily, and if Jaxom could avoid being seen, so much the better.

  «I think you could trust Jaxom to handle the situation diplomatically,» Robinton said, watching the young man through the side of his eyes. «He's already proved to be discreet.» Now why would Jaxom react so to a simple compliment, Robinton wondered and smoothly made a fuss of rolling up the charts to divert attention from the discomposed young rider.

  Robinton told Jaxom to get a good night's sleep, a good morning's breakfast, and to report to the Harpercrafthall immediately thereafter to acquire his guide. Then Robinton and F'lar left the Hold. As the Weyrleader and Mnementh brought the Harper back to his Hall, Robinton forebore to go beyond offering ordinary courtesies. The needs of Pern had brought the Benden Weyrleader back to the Hall. One step at a time!

  As Robinton watched F'lar and bronze Mnementh climb above the fire heights and wink out. Beauty appeared, scolding at Zair, who resumed his customary perch on the Harper's shoulder. Zair did not respond to her crackling, causing Robinton to grin. Menolly must be agitating for an account of the afternoon's doings. She wasn't presumptuous enough to nag at him, but that didn't keep Beauty from badgering his bronze. A good child, Menolly, and worth her weight in marks. He hoped she'd approve of a trip with young Jaxom. He hadn't mentioned her participating in front of Lytol since F'lar had long ago enjoined him to the strictest secrecy about his Southern trips. Zair would not have been enough for Jaxom to find the right cove, but with Menolly, who had been with him on that stormy trip, and her fire lizards to act as reinforcement, they'd have no trouble at all. But the fewer people who knew about it the better.

  The next day when the Harper informed Jaxom of this added insurance for success, Jaxom looked relieved and surprised.

  «Mind you, young Jaxom, it's not to be discussed that Menolly and I have been exploring so far south. In point of fact, we hadn't planned that trip…»

  Menolly chuckled. «I told you there'd be a storm.»

  «Thank you. I've heeded your weather wisdom since, as you well know.» He grimaced as he recalled three days of storm sickness and a desperate Menolly clinging to the tiller of their light craft.

  He saddled them with no further advice, urged them to take a supply of food from the kitchens and said he hoped they'd have a favorable report.

  «Of D'ram's whereabouts?» Menolly asked, her eyes dancing at him, «or the performance of the fire lizards?»

  «Both, of course, saucy girl. Away with you.»

  He had decided not to query Jaxom about his strong reactions to timing it and discretion. When he had told Menolly of his intention to send her and her fire lizards to accompany Jaxom, she, too, had reacted in an unexpected fashion. He had casually asked her what was so amusing and she had merely shaken her head, convulsed in laughter. He couldn't imagine what the two of them had been up to together. Now, as he watched Ruth circle into the skies above the Hold, he reviewed their interactions. Good natured chaffing, certainly a dollop of contention for leadership but nothing beyond the exchanges of old friends. Not, he hastily told himself, that Menolly would not make an excellent Lady Holder for Jaxom if the two were sincerely attached. It was just that… the Harper chided himself for interfering and turned to dull matters of Craft management which he had been delaying far too long.

  CHAPTER X

  From Harpercraft Hall to the Southern Continent, Evening at Benden Weyr, 15.7.4

  AS RUTH FLEW upward from the meadow, Jaxom experienced a tremendous sense of relief and excitement as well as the usual tension that gripped him when making a long jump between. Beauty and Diver were perched on Menolly's shoulders, tails twined about her neck. He had given shoulder room to Poll and Rocky since these four had accompanied the Harper and Menolly on that initial trip. Jaxom would have liked to ask what they'd been doing sailing in the Southern Continent. The boat made some sense since Menolly, being SeaHold bred, was a good sailor. But there'd been a challenging gleam in Menolly's eyes that had kept him from asking. He was wondering, too, if she had told the Harper anything of her suspicions about his part in returning the egg.

  They went between first to Nerat's tip, circling again while Menolly and her fire lizards concentrated on imagining the cove far to the southeast. Jaxom had wanted to time it to the night before; he'd spent hours working out star positions in the Southern Hemisphere. Menolly and Robinton had overruled him unless Ruth couldn't get a vivid enough picture of the cove from the combination of Menolly and the fire lizards.

  Somewhat to Jaxom's disgruntlement, Ruth announced that he could clearly see where he was to go. Menolly makes very sharp pictures, he added.

  Jaxom had no option but to ask him to change.

  The quality of the air was Jaxom's first impression of the new location: sorter, cleaner, less humid. Ruth was gliding toward the little cove, expressing pleasure in anticipation of a good swim. Their guiding mountain peak glistened in the sun, distant, serene and unusually symmetrical.

  «I'd forgotten how lovely it was,» Menolly said, breathing out a sigh in his ear.

  The water had a clarity that made the sandy bottom of the cove quite visible, though Jaxom was sure that the water was by no means shallow. He noticed the brilliant reflection of yellowtails and the darting movements of whitefingers in the clear waters. Ahead of them was
the perfect crescent of a white sanded cove, trees of all sizes, some bearing yellow and red fruits, forming a shady border. As Ruth descended to the beach, Jaxom could see dense forest extending unbroken toward the low range of foothills that culminated m that magnificent mountain. Just beyond this cove, on both flanks, were other little bays, not perhaps as symmetrically shaped, but equally peaceful and untouched.

  Ruth came to a back winging halt on the sands, urging his passengers to disembark as he intended to have a proper bath.

  «Go ahead, then,» Jaxom said, patting Ruth's muzzle affectionately and laughing as the white dragon, too eager to dive, waddled ungracefully into the sea.

  «These sands are as hot as at Hatching Grounds,» Menolly explained, picking up her feet in fast order and heading toward the shaded area.

  «They're not that hot,» Jaxom said, following her.

  «My feet are sensitive,» she replied, casting herself down on the beach. She glanced up and down and then grimaced.

  «No signs, huh?» Jaxom asked.

  «Of D'ram?»

  «No, fire lizard.»

  She unslung the pack with their provisions.

  «They're likely sleeping off their early morning feed. You're still on your feet. See if there're some ripe redfruits in that tree there, would you, Jaxom? Meatroll makes dry eating.»

  Jaxom found sufficient ripe fruit to feed a Hold and brought as much as he could carry back to Menolly. He knew her fondness for them. Ruth was disporting himself in the water, diving and surfacing to tail length before crashing down with great splashings and wave makings, the fire lizards encouraging him with shriek and buglings.

  «Tide's full in,» Menolly said as she bit into redfruit peel, tearing off a large hunk and squeezing the pulp for the juice. «Oh, this is heavenly! Why does everything Southern taste so good?»

  «Forbidden, I guess. Does the tide make a difference to the fire lizards' appearing?»

  «Not that I know of. Ruth will make the difference, I think.»

  «So we have to wait until they notice Ruth?»

  «That's the easiest way.»

  «Do we actually know there are fire lizards in this part of the South?»

  «Oh, yes, didn't I mention?» Menolly pretended to be contrite. «We saw a queen mating, and I nearly lost Rocky and Diver to her. Beauty was furious.»

  «Anything else that hasn't been mentioned that I should know?»

  Menolly grinned at him. «I need to have the old memory jogged by association. You'll know what is needed when the time comes.»

  Jaxom decided that two could play that word game and grinned back at her, before choosing a redfruit to eat. It was so warm that he set aside his riding jacket and helmet. Ruth continued to enjoy a leisurely and lengthy bath as Menolly's fire lizards performed alongside him, their combined show affording their indulgent audience considerable amusement.

  It got hotter, the white sands reflecting the sun's rays and baking the cove even where they were in shade. The clear water and the fun the beasts were having was too much for Jaxom to watch any longer. He unlaced his boots, wriggled out of his trousers, whipped off his shirt and raced for the water. Menolly was soon splashing beside him before he was a dragonlength from the shore.

  «We'd better not take too much sun,» she told him. «I got a colossal burning the last time.» She grimaced in recollection. «Peeled like a tunnel snake.»

  Ruth erupted beside them, blowing out water, all but swamping them with strokes from his wings, and then, solicitously extending a helping tail as the two choked and spluttered from the water they'd swallowed.

  Menolly's body was trimmer than Corana's, Jaxom noticed as they waded out, happily exhausted by their swim with Ruth. She was longer in the leg and not nearly as rounded in the hip. A bit too flat in the breast, but she moved with a grace that fascinated Jaxom more than courtesy allowed. When he looked back, she had put on pants and overtunic, so that her slim bare arms were exposed to the sun as she dried her hair. He preferred long hair in a girl though, with all the dragonriding Menolly did, he could see why she'd keep it short enough to wear under a helmet.

  They shared a yellow fruit which Jaxom had never eaten before. Its mild taste was well seasoned by the salt in his mouth.

  Ruth emerged from the water, shaking water all over Jaxom and Menolly.

  The sun is warm, he said when they complained of the shower. Your clothes will dry quickly. They always do at Keroon.

  Jaxom shot a glance at Menolly but she evidently hadn't caught the significance of the remark. She was resettling herself, disgusted by the wet sand that now speckled her clothes and bare arms.

  «It's not the wet that bothers,» Jaxom told Ruth, as he brushed his face before lying down again, «it's the gritty sand.»

  Ruth worked himself into a good wallow of dry sand and the fire lizards, giving little tired cheeps, nestled down against him.

  Jaxom thought that one of them should stay awake to see if local fire lizards responded to the lure of the white dragon, but the combination of exercise, food, sun and the limpid air of the cove were too much.

  Ruth's soft call woke him. Do not move. We have visitors.

  Jaxom was on his side, his head pillowed on his left hand. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked directly at Ruth's shade dappled body. He counted three bronze fire lizards, four greens, two golds and a blue. None of them wore neck paint or bands. As he watched, a brown came gliding in to land by one of the golds. The two exchanged nose touches and then cocked their heads at Ruth's head which was on the sand at their level. Ruth had the lids of one eye half opened.

  Beauty, who had been asleep on the other side of Ruth, minced carefully across the white dragon's shoulders and returned the courtesies of the strangers.

  «Ask them if they remember seeing a bronze dragon?» Jaxom thought to Ruth.

  I have. They're thinking about it. They like me. They've never seen anything like me before.

  «Nor will again.» But Jaxom was amused at the delight in his dragon's tone. Ruth did so like to be liked.

  A long time ago there was a dragon, a bronze one, and a man who walked up and down the beach. They did not bother him. He didn't stay long, Ruth added, almost as an afterthought.

  Now what did that mean? Jaxom wondered, apprehensive. Either we came and got him. Or he and Tiroth suicided.

  «Ask them what else they remember about men,» Jaxom said to Ruth. Maybe they saw F'lar with D'ram.

  The new fire lizards became so excited that Ruth's head came up out of the sand and his eyes flashed open and began to whirl with alarm. At his movement, Beauty lost her grip on his ridge and slid out of sight, reappearing with wings working furiously as she repositioned herself, squawking over her disarrangement.

  They remember men. Why don't I remember such things?

  «And dragons?» Jaxom suppressed a spurt of alarm, wondering how on earth the Oldtimers could know he and Menolly were here. Then his common sense asserted itself. They couldn't know.

  He nearly jumped to his feet at the touch on his arm.

  «Find out when, Jaxom,» Menolly said in a soft whisper, «when was D'ram here?»

  No dragons. But many many men, Ruth was saying and added that the fire lizards were too excited now to remember anything about one man and a dragon. He didn't understand what they were remembering; each one seemed to have different memories. He was confused.

  «Do they know we're here?»

  They haven't seen you. They've only looked at me. But you aren't their men. Ruth's tone indicated he was as perplexed by this message as Jaxom.

  «Can't you get them back to the subject of D'ram?»

  No, Ruth said sadly and with some disappointment. All they want to remember is men. Not my men, but their men.

  «Maybe if I stand up they will recognize me as a man.» Slowly Jaxom got to his feet, gesturing cautiously to Menolly to rise as well. What the fire lizards needed was the proper perspective.

  You aren't the men they remember, Ruth
said as the fire lizards, startled by the two figures rising from the sands, took wing. They circled once, at a safe distance, and then disappeared.

  «Call them back, Ruth. We've got to find out when D'ram is.»

  Ruth was silent for a moment, his eyes decreasing the speed of their whirl. Then he shook his head as he told his rider that they had gone away to remember their men.

  «They couldn't mean Southerners,» Menolly said, having received some images from her friends. «That mountain is in the background of their images.» And she turned in that direction though she couldn't see the mountain for the trees. «And they wouldn't have meant Robinton and myself when we got storm tossed here. Did they remember a boat, Ruth?» Menolly asked the white dragon, then looked at Jaxom for the answer.

  No one told me to ask about a boat, Ruth said plaintively. But they did say they saw a man and a dragon.

  «Would they react if… if Tiroth had gone between, Ruth?»

  By himself? To the end? Yes, they didn't remember sadness. I remember sadness. I remember Mirath's going very well. The white dragon's tone was sad.

  Jaxom hurried to comfort him.

  «Did he?» Menolly asked anxiously, not hearing Ruth.

  «Ruth doesn't think so. And besides, a dragon wouldn't let his rider harm himself. D'ram can't suicide with Tiroth alive. And Tiroth won't if D'ram is still alive.»

  «When?» Menolly sounded upset. «We still don't know when.»

  «No, we don't. But if D'ram was here, long enough for the fire lizards to remember him, if he planned to stay here as he must have, he would have had to build some sort of shelter for himself. There are rains in this part of the world. And Thread…» Jaxom had started toward the verge of the forest to test his theory. He called, «Hey, Menolly, Thread's only been falling for the past fifteen Turns. That wouldn't be too long a jump for Tiroth, They came forward in time at twenty five Turn intervals. I'll bet anything that's his when, before Thread. D'ram's had enough of Thread for several lifetimes.» Jaxom scrambled across the sand back to his clothes and continued talking as he got dressed. That sense of rightness colored his speculation. «I'd say D'ram's gone back about twenty or twenty five Turns. I'll try then first. If we see any sign of D'ram or Tiroth, we'll come right back, I promise.» He vaulted to Ruth's back, fastening his helmet as he urged the white dragon to wing.