Kadith says to converge on Crom Hold, Orlith told her after several long sweeps.
“Let’s join them.”
Moreta thought hard of Crom’s fire-heights, chanted her talisman against between, and on “blackest” arrived in the air above Crom’s principal Hold. It was situated near a river, the first cascade of which could be viewed from the Hold windows when unshuttered. The livestock that usually grazed the fields had been gathered in. Moreta remembered the gay and brave decorations on Ruatha’s windows and asked Orlith to speak to Crom’s watchwher.
It is only worried about Thread. Knows nothing of illness. Orlith sounded disgusted. Kadith says the Fall is heavy now and we should be careful. There have been three minor searings. All dragons are flaming well and the wings are in order. Cross over!
Moreta glanced at the spectacular display as all the fighting wings overlapped one another above Crom Hold. Too bad the holders couldn’t see it. Cross-over was a magnificent sight but the concentration of the wings in one aerial position left many openings for Thread.
Suddenly Orlith veered. Moreta saw the Thread patch. Saw the blue dragon heading for it.
“We’re in a better position,” she cried, knowing that Orlith would warn off the diving blue. She flicked open the nozzle of the flamethrower, leaning well left in her fighting straps as Orlith came up under the tangle. She pressed the button. The gout of fire found its mark but Moreta also had a blurred vision of blue wings and belly. “Too close, you fool. Who was that?” N’men, rider of Jelth, Orlith said. One of the young blues. You didn’t singe him. “A singe would teach him discipline.” Moreta fumed, but was
relieved that the young rider was unscathed. “Reckless stupidity to fly so low. Didn’t he see us? I’ll have his eyes for polishing.”
More Thread! Orlith was off at another tangent. Lidora had also seen the Thread and she was nearer. Orlith desisted. Kadith is divert-ing from cross-over. The others are coming.
The queens’ wing reformed, flying north, fanning out as gobbets of loose Thread Fell in a curious order caused by the dragon’s distor-tions of the air currents. That was work indeed for the queens!
Moreta and Orlith were flying hard after this tangle, that patch, aware that Sh’gall had quickly redeployed sections of several wings to cover the upper levels. Cross-overs were hard to avoid, with the different stacks of dragons flying at varying speeds, especially when the prime requirement was that wings maintain the proper altitude and interval. Then Sh’gall sent sweep riders north to make sure there had been no burrowing.
The Fall continued as the wings reestablished their far-ranging patterns. Riders called for more firestone and set meetings with the weyrlings riding supply. Moreta checked her flamethrower and found half a tank. And Fall continued.
More casualties were reported by Orlith, none seriouswing tips and tails. Orlith and Moreta flew a watching level over the first of the snow-tipped mountains along the irregular border between Crom and Nabol. Thread would freeze and shrivel on those slopes but the queens ranged while Sh’gall and Kadith ordered the wings between to the far side and Nabol.
Haura said that she and Leri needed new fuel cylinders for their flamethrowers and were dropping down at the mine hold.
“Leri, please check with the watchwher!”
Holth says that the watchwhers are all stupid and know nothing of any use to us. I’ll keep on asking.
Any landing was a strain for Holth, who was no longer agile. Moreta watched anxiously, but Leri had allowed for Holth’s incapacity and directed the old queen to a wide ledge close to the mine hold. A green weyrling arrived from between, cylinders hanging on both sides of her neck. She landed daintily. Her rider detached one tank and dismounted. He ran toward Holth, up her forearm, clinging to the cylinder straps with one hand and the fighting leather with the other. The exchange of tanks was made as Moreta and Orlith glided
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Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
over. Holth took several steps forward, leaning into the free air and got in her first downward sweep.
They pace themselves. AH is well, Oriith said.