Fnor reacted instantly. His brown hand snapped about Trebs wrist, his fingers digging into the tendons so painfully that the green riders hand was temporarily numbed.
Released, Terry stood back, his eyes blazing, his jaw set.
Fort Weyr manners leave much to be desired, Fnor said, his teeth showing in a smile as hard as the grip with which he held Treb. But now the other Fort Weyr rider intervened.
Treb! Fnor! Bnaj thrust the two apart. His greens proddy, Fnor. He cant help it.
Then he should stay weyrbound.
Benden doesnt advise Fort, Treb cried, trying to step past his Weyrmate, his hand on his belt knife.
Fnor stepped back, forcing himself to cool down. The whole episode was ridiculous. Dragonriders did not quarrel in public. No one should use a Craftmasters second in such a fashion. Outside, dragons bellowed.
Ignoring Treb, Fnor said to Bnaj, Youd better get out of here. Shes too close to mating.
But the truculent Treb would not be silenced.
Dont tell me how to manage my dragon, you …
The insult was lost in a second volley from the dragons to which Canth now added his warble.
Dont be a fool, Treb, Bnaj said. Come! Now!
I wouldnt be here if you hadnt wanted that knife. Get it and come.
The knife Bnaj had been handling lay on the floor by Terrys foot. The Craftsman retrieved it in such a way that Fnor suddenly realized why there had been such tension in the Hall. The Dragonriders had been about to confiscate the knife, an action his entrance had forestalled. Hed heard too much lately of such extortions.
Youd better go, he told the Dragonriders, stepping in front of Terry.
We came for the knife. Well leave with it, Treb shouted and, feinting with unexpected speed, ducked past Fnor, grabbing the knife from Terrys hand, slicing the smiths thumb as he drew the blade.
Again Fnor caught Trebs hand and twisted it, forcing him to drop the knife.
Treb gave a gurgling cry of rage and, before Fnor could duck or Bnaj could intervene, the infuriated green rider had plunged his own belt knife into Fnors shoulder, viciously slicing downward until the point hit the shoulder bone.
Fnor staggered back, aware of nauseating pain, aware of Canths scream of protest, the greens wild bawl and the browns trumpeting.
Get him out of here, Fnor gasped to Bnaj, as Terry reached out to steady him.
Get out! the Smith repeated in a harsh voice. He signaled urgently to the other craftsmen who now moved decisively toward the dragonmen. But Bnaj yanked Treb savagely out of the Hall.
Fnor resisted as Terry tried to conduct him to the nearest bench. It was bad enough that dragonrider should attack dragonrider, but Fnor was even more shocked that a rider should ignore his beast for the sake of a coveted bauble.
There was real urgency in the greens shrill ululation now. Fnor willed Treb and Bnaj on their beasts and away. A shadow fell across the great portal of the Smithhall. It was Canth, crooning anxiously. The greens voice was suddenly still.
Are they gone? he asked the dragon.
Well gone, Canth replied, craning his neck to catch sight of his rider. You hurt.
Im all right. Im all right, Fnor lied, relaxing into Terrys urgent grip. In a blackening daze, he felt himself lifted, then the hard surface of bench under his back before the dizzying shock and pain overwhelmed him. His last conscious thought was that Manora would be annoyed that he had not seen Fandarel first.
CHAPTER II
Evening (Fort Weyr Time).
Meeting of the Weyrleaders at Fort Weyr
WHEN MNEMENTH burst out of between above Fort Weyr, he entered so high above the Weyr mountain that it was a barely discernible black point in the darkening land below. Flars exclamation of surprise was cut off by the thin cold air that burned his lungs.
You must be calm and cool, Mnementh said, doubling his riders astonishment. You must command at this meeting. And the bronze dragon began a long spiral glide down to the Weyr.
Flar knew that no admonitions could change Mnemenths mind when he used that firm tone. He wondered at the great beasts unexpected initiative. But the bronze dragon was right.