Anne McCaffrey - Pern06 White Dragon

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by Pern06 White Dragon(lit)


  "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 con- fused.

  "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 cau- tiously 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 dis- tance, 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 re- member 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 be- tween, Ruth?"

  By himself? To the end? Yes, they didn't remem- ber 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 sui- cide 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 sev- eral 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 Dram'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.

  "Jaxom, wait! Don't be so quick..."

  Menolly's words were lost in the noise of Ruth's wings. Jaxom grinned to himself as he saw her jumping up and down in the sands in her frustration. He con- centrated on the moment in time to when he wished to jump: predawn, with the Red Star far east, a pale, malevolent pink, not yet ready to swoop down on an unsuspecting Pern. But Menolly had a final say. He felt a tail wrapping about his neck just as he told Ruth to transfer between time.

  It seemed a long moment, suspended in that cold nothingness that was between. He could feel that chill inching its way through skin and bones warmed by a kind sun. He steeled himself for the ordeal. Then they were out in the cool dawn, the pink gleam of the Red Star low on the horizon.

  "Can you sense Tiroth, Ruth?" Jaxom could see nothing in the crepuscular light of this new day so many Turns before his birth.

  He sleeps, so does the man. They are here.

  Elation brimming inside him, Jaxom told Ruth to get back to Menolly but not too soon. Jaxom pictured the sun well over the forests and that was what he saw as Ruth burst back into now over the cove.

  For a moment he couldn't see Menolly on the beach. Then Beauty and the other two bronzes—it was Rocky who had accompanied him—exploded be- side them. Beauty blistering the air with her angry comments, while Diver and Poll chittered anxiously. Then Menolly appeared from the forest, planted both hands on her hip bones and just watched. He didn't need to see her face to know she was furious. She con- tinued to glare balefully at him while Ruth settled to the sand, careful not to flick it over the girl.

  "Well?"

  Menolly was very pretty, Jaxom thought, with her eyes flashing like that, but she was daunting, too.

  "D'ram was then. Twenty-five Turns back. I used the Red Star as a guide."

  "I'm glad you used something constant. Do you realize that you've been gone from this time for hours?"

  "You knew I was all right. You sent Rocky with me."

  "That didn't help! You went so far Beauty couldn't touch him. We had no idea where you were!" She flung her arms wide with her exasperation. "You could've met up with those men the other fire-lizards saw. You could've miscalculated and never come back!"

  "I'm sorry, Menolly, really I am." Jaxom was gen- uinely contrite, if only to spare himself the sharp edge of her tongue. "But I couldn't remember what time it was when we left, so I made sure we didn't double up on ourselves coming back."

  She calmed down a trifle. "You didn't need to be that cautious. I was about to send Beauty for F'lar."

  "You were worried!"

  "Bloody right." She swooped and gathered up the pack, shrugging into her jacket and slapping her hel- met on. "Incidently I found the remains of a lean- to, near a stream back there," she said as she slung him the pack. Vaulting neatly to Ruth's back, she looked around for her fire-lizards that had disap- peared. "Off again." She gave a call, and Jaxom in- stinctively ducked from the rush of wings about his head.

  Menolly settled them down, Beauty and Poll on her shoulders, Rocky and Diver on Jaxom's, and they were ready.

  When they emerged above Benden Weyr, Ruth caroled his name. Menolly's fire-lizards cheeped un- certainly.

  "I wish I dared take you into the queen's weyr, but that wouldn't be smart. Off you go to Brekke!"

  As they disappeared, the watchdragon let out an outraged roar, wings extend'-'d, neck arching, eyes flashing with angry red. Startled, Menolly and Jaxom turned to see a fair of fire-lizards arrowing toward them.

  "They followed us from the South, Jaxom. Oh, tell them to go back!" The fair winked out abruptly.

  They only wanted to see where we came from, Ruth said to Jaxom in an aggrieved tone. "At Ruatha Hold, yes. Here, no!" They won't come again, Ruth said sadly. They got frightened.

  By that time the watchdragon's alarm had stirred up the Weyr. With sinking spirits, Jaxom and Menolly saw Mnementh raise himself on his ledge. They could hear Ramoth's bellow and before they had landed in the Bowl, half the dragons were bellowing, too. The unmistakable figures of Lessa and F'lar appeared on the ledge by Mnementh.

  "We're in for it now," Jaxom said. "Not as bearers of good tidings, we're not. Concen- trate on that."

  "I'm too bloody tired to concentrate on anything," Jaxom replied with more feeling than he'd intended. His skin itched, probably the sand. Or too much sun, but he was uncomfortable.

  / am very hungry, Ruth said, looking wistfully to- ward the fenced killing ground of the Weyr.

  Jaxom groaned. "I can't let you hunt here, Ruth." He gave his friend an encouraging pat and, noticing F'lar and Lessa waiting for them, he hitched up his trousers, settled his tunic and gestured to Menolly that th
ey'd better go.

  They'd taken no more than three steps, during which time Mnementh had turned his wedge-shaped head to Plar, when the Weyrleader had spoken to Lessa and the two Benden leaders started down the steps, F'lar gesturing to Jaxom to move Ruth on to the killing ground.

  Mnementh is a kind friend, Ruth said. I may eat here. I am very very hungry.

  "Let Ruth go, Jaxom," F'lar was calling across the intervening distance. "He's gray!"

  Ruth did indeed look gray, Jaxom realized, which was the shade he himself felt, now that the exhilara- tion of their quest was ebbing. Relieved, he signaled the white dragon to proceed to the ground.

  As he and Menolly walked toward the Weyrieaders, he felt his knees weaken unaccountably and he lurched against Menolly. She had her hand under his arm instantly.

  "What's the matter with him, Menolly? Is he ill?" F'lar strode to her assistance.

  "He jumped back twenty-five Turns to find D'ram. He's exhausted!"

  The next few moments were a blank to Jaxom. He re-established contact with the here and now when someone held a rank-smelling vial under his nose, the fumes of which cleared his head and made him back away from the stink. He realized that he was sitting on the steps to the queen's weyr, his body braced be- tween F'lar and Menolly, with Manora and Lessa in front of him, everyone looking extremely anxious.

  A high-pitched squeal told him that Ruth bad killed and, curiously, he felt better immediately.

  "Drink this slowly," Lessa ordered, curling his fin- gers about a warm cup. The soup was rich with meat juice, savory with herbs and just the right temperature for drinking. He took two long gulps and opened his mouth to speak when Lessa gestured him imperiously to keep drinking.

  "Menolly's given us the salient points," the Weyr- woman said, pulling a disapproving grimace. "But you disappeared long enough to scare Menolly out of her harpered wits. How under the sun did you conclude he'd gone twenty-five Turns back? Don't answer that yet. Drink. You're transparent and I'd never hear the last of it from Lytol if you came to any harm over this numbwitted escapade." She glared at her weyr- mate. "Yes, I've been worried over D'ram but not to the point where I would risk a fingertip of Ruth's hide to find him if he's trying that hard to be lost. Nor am I very pleased to find fire-lizards involved." She was tapping one foot now and her glare was divided equally between Menolly and Jaxom. "I still think they're pests. Barging in where they're not wanted. I suppose that unmarked fair that popped in followed you up from the South? I won't sanction that."

  "Well, I can't keep them from following Ruth," Jaxom said, too weary to be prudent. "Don't think I haven't tried!"

  "I'm sure you have, Jaxom," Lessa said in a milder tone.

  A series of frightened wherry whistles was plainly heard from the killing ground. They saw Ruth swoop to dispatch a second fowl.

  "He certainly is neat," Lessa remarked approvingly. "Doesn't run a flock to bone making a choice. Can you stand, Jaxom? I think you'd best plan on spend- ing the night here. Send one of those dratted fire- lizards of yours to Ruatha Hold, Menolly, and tell Lytol. It'll take Ruth time to digest anyhow and I won't permit this lad to risk between tired out of his mind and on a tired and sated dragon."

  Jaxom got to his feet.

  "I'm all right now, thank you."

  "Not when you're leaning at that angle," F'lar said with a snort as he slipped one arm around Jaxom. "Up to the weyr."

  "I'll bring a proper meal," Manora promised and tamed to go. "You can help me, Menolly. And send your message."

  Menolly hesitated, obviously wanting to stay with Jaxom.

  "I don't intend to eat him, girl," Lessa said, shooing Menolly off. "Much less scold him when he's reeling. I'll save that for later. Come up to the weyr when you've sent word to Ruatha."

  Jaxom felt obliged to protest their assistance, but they were convinced he needed it and by the time they'd reached the top of the weyrsteps, he ruefully sagged against their support. Mnementh regarded him kindly as Lessa and F'lar guided him into the weyr.

  This was not the first time Jaxom had been there, and, as they led him to the living corner, he wondered if he was always going to enter Ramoth's weyr consumed with guilt. Could Ramoth perceive his thoughts? Her jeweled eyes turned idly without a trace of agitation as he was solicitously settled in a chair, and a foot rest positioned. When Lessa was spreading a fur over him, muttering about watching for chills after exertion, she paused, staring at him. She put her hand under his chin and turned his head slightly, then traced the line of Threadscore with a light finger.

  "Where did you acquire that, young Lord Jaxom?" she asked harshly, her eyes forcing him to look at her.

  F'lar, alerted by the tone in her voice, returned to the table with the wine and cups he'd taken from the wall chest.

  "Acquire what? Oh ho, the young man has trained his dragon to chew firestone but not to duck!"

  "I thought it was decided that Jaxom was to remain in Holding at Ruatha."

  "I thought you said you wouldn't scold him," F'lar replied as he winked at Jaxom.

  "About timing it. But this..." she gestured angrily at Jaxom, "this is entirely different."

  "Is it, Lessa?" F'lar asked in a tone that embar- rassed Jaxom. They were momentarily unaware of him. "I seem to remember a girl wanting desperately to fly her queen."

  "Flying was no danger. But Jaxom could be—"

  "Jaxom has evidently learned a lesson. Haven't you? About ducking, that is."

  "Yes, sir. N'ton's put me in with the weyrlings at Fort."

  "Why wasn't I informed?" Lessa demanded.

  "Jaxom's training is Lytol's responsibility and we've no complaints on that score. As far as Ruth is con- cerned, I'd say that he too falls under N'ton's jurisdic- tion. How long has this been going on, Jaxom?"

  "Not that long, sir. I asked N'ton because... well..." Here Jaxom's conscience interfered with his glibness. Above all else, Lessa must not think he had any part in returning that blasted egg.

  F'lar rescued him. "Because Ruth is a dragon, and dragons ought to fight Thread with firestone? Right?" He shrugged at Lessa. "What did you expect? He's Ruathan-blooded, like. yourself. Just keep your hide and Ruth's intact."

  "We haven't flown in a Threadfall yet," Jaxom admitted realizing as he spoke how much resentment showed in his voice.

  F'lar gave him a friendly clout on the shoulder.

  "He's a sound lad, Lessa, stop glowering. If he's singed himself once, he's less likely to risk doing so again. Was Ruth hurt?"

  "Yes!" The anguish of that experience was plain in Jaxom's admission.

  F'lar gave a laugh and waggled a finger at Lessa, who was still glaring at Jaxom. "There! That's the best deterrent in the world. Ruth wasn't badly hurt, was he? I can't say I've seen you that often recently..." F'lar turned toward the killing ground as if conjuring up the white dragon.

  "No," Jaxom said quickly and F'lar grinned again at the relief in his reply. "It's well healed. You can barely see the scar. On his left thigh."

  "I can't say that I like all this," Lessa said.

  "We would have asked you, Weyrwoman," Jaxom began, not entirely truthful, "but there was so much trouble just then...."

  "Well..." she began.

  "Well," echoed F'lar, "it really isn't up to you, Lessa, but you do understand, Jaxom, how awkward it would be for you to be seriously hurt right now. We can't afford to have a major Hold in contention."

  "I appreciate that, sir."

  "Nor, I'm afraid, is it wise to press your confirmation as Lord Holder—"

  "I don't want Lytol to have to step down, sir. Not ever."

  "Your loyalty does you credit but I really can under- stand and appreciate your ambiguous position. It's never easy to be patient, my friend, but patience can be rewarding."

  Again Jaxom was embarrassed by the look that Lessa and F'lar exchanged.

  "And," the Weyrleader continued more briskly, as if he realized Jaxom's discomfiture, "you've already proved your resourcefu
lness today, though, believe me, had I known you to be so thorough, I'd have been more explicit in my instructions." F'lar's expression was severe but Jaxom found himself grinning in relief. "Twenty-five Turns timing it..." The Weyr- leader was both appalled and impressed. Lessa gave a snort.

  "It was your jumps, Lessa, that first gave me the notion," Jaxom said, and when he saw her startled expression, explained: "Remember, you came forward in twenty-five Turn jumps when you brought the Old- timers forward. So I thought it likely that D'ram would go back that interval. It left him time enough be- fore the Pass started so he wouldn't have to worry about Thread."

  F'lar nodded approvingly, and Lessa appeared somewhat mollified.

 

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