«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 concentrated 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 beside 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 continued 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 genuinely 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 helmet on. «Incidentally 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 disappeared. «Off again.» She gave a call, and Jaxom instinctively 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 uncertainly.
«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 extended, 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. Concentrate 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.
I am very hungry, Ruth said, looking wistfully toward 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 they'd better go.
They'd taken no more than three steps, during which time Mnementh had turned his wedge shaped head to F'lar, 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 exhilaration of their quest was ebbing. Relieved, he signaled the white dragon to proceed to the ground.
As he and Menolly walked toward the Weyrleaders, 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 between 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 fingers 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 Weyrwoman 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 spending 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 embarrassed 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 concerned, I'd say that he too falls under N'ton's jurisdiction. 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 understand 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 resourcefulness 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 Weyrleader 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 Oldtimers forward. So I thought it likely that D'ram would go back that interval. It left him time enough before the Pass started so he wouldn't have to worry about Thread.»
F'lar nodded approvingly, and Lessa appeared somewhat mollified.
Ramoth turned her head toward the entrance.
«Your meal is coming,» Lessa said, smiling. «No more talk till you've eaten. Ruth's way ahead of you, just brought down his third wherry, Ramoth says.»
«Don't worry about a bird or three or four,» F'lar said, for Jaxom had winced at this report of Ruth's greed. «The Weyr can support the meal.»
Menolly entered, breathing heavily from the climb and, to judge by the beads of perspiration on her brow, her haste. When Lessa exclaimed that she'd brought enough food to feed a fighting wing, Menolly replied that Manora said it was nearly dinnertime and they might as well all eat in the weyr.
If anyone had told Jaxom that morning that he'd enjoy a comfortable diner with the Benden Weyrleaders, he'd have told them to open their glow baskets. Despite the reassurances of Mnementh and Ramoth that were conveyed to him, he wouldn't sit still and eat until he'd checked on Ruth. So Lessa permitted him to walk to the ledge and see the white dragon grooming himself by the lake. When Jaxom resumed his place at the table, he found himself shaking, and he applied himself to the roast meats to restore his energy.
«Tell me again what those fire lizards said about men,» F'lar asked when they were relaxing around the table.
«You can't always get fire lizards to explain,» Menolly said, glancing first at Jaxom to see if he wished to answer. «They got so excited when Ruth asked them if they remembered men that their images made no sense. Actually,» Menolly paused, drawing her brows together in concentration, «the images were so varied that you didn't see much.»
«Why would their images be varied?» Lessa asked, interested in spite of her present antagonism to fire lizards.
«Generally a group will come up with one specific image…»
Jaxom inhaled wearily: she couldn't be foolish enough to mention the egg pictures.
«They echoed Canth's fall from the Red Star. My friends will often come back with rather good images, I think each reinforcing the other, of places they've been.»
«Men!» F'lar said thoughtfully. «They could mean men elsewhere in the South. It is a vast continent.»
«F'lar!» Lessa's voice was sharp and warning. «You are not exploring the Southern Continent. And, might I suggest that if there were men there, somewhere, they would certainly have ventured far enough north to be seen at some stage or another by F'nor when he was south, or by Toric's groups. There would have been signs of them other than the unreliable recollections o
f some fire lizards.»
«You're quite likely correct, Lessa,» F'lar said, looking so disappointed that Jaxom realized for the first time that being Benden's Weyrleader and First Dragonrider of Pern might not be as enviable a position as he'd previously assumed.
So often lately he'd come to realize that things were not as they seemed. There were hidden facets to everything. You'd think you had what you wanted in your grasp and, when you looked closely, it wasn't what it had seemed to be from a distance. Like teaching your dragon to chew firestone and getting caught at it, in one sense, as he had. Now he had to train earnestly with N'ton's weyrlings, which was fine as far as it went but it didn't go far enough to please Jaxom flying high in a Fort Weyr wing so his holders wouldn't even know he was there!
«The problem is, Jaxom, that we,» F'lar indicated Lessa, himself and the entire Weyr, «have other plans for the South before the Lord Holders start parceling it out to their younger sons.» He brushed his hair back from his face. «We learned a lesson from the Oldtimers, a valuable one. And I know what happens to a Weyr in a long Interval.» F'lar grinned broadly at Jaxom. «We've been mighty busy protecting land by seeding the grubs. By the next Pass of the Red Star, all the Northern Continent,» and the Weyrleader's gesture was wide, «will be seeded. And safe at least from Thread burrowing. If the Holds thought dragonriders were superfluous before, they certainly will have more cause then.»
The White Dragon p-4 Page 18
