Lessa blinked at him, her glance going to the entrance and the late afternoon sun slanting in on the floor.
Its only just past noon in Telgar Hold, he said, patiently. Yesterday I was all day Searching at Southern Boll so Im hours behind myself. He stifled a yawn.
Id forgotten. Any luck?
Canth didnt twitch an ear. Now let me eat and get away from the stink. Dont know how you stand it.
Lessa snorted. Because I cant stand the groans when you riders dont have numbweed.
Fnor grinned down at his Weyrwoman, aware that Brekkes eyes were wide in amazement at their good-natured banter. He was sincerely fond of Lessa as a person, not just as Weyrwoman of Bendens senior queen. He heartily approved of Flars permanent attachment of Lessa, not that there seemed much chance that Ramoth would ever permit any dragon but Mnementh to fly her. As Lessa was a superb Weyrwoman for Benden Weyr, so Flar was the logical bronze rider. They were well matched as Weyrwoman and Weyrleader, and Benden Weyr and Pern profited. So did the three Holds bound to Benden for protection. Then Fnor remembered the hostility of the people at Southern Boll yesterday until they learned that he was a Benden rider. He started to mention this to Lessa when Manora broke his train of thought.
I am very disturbed by this discoloration. Fnor, she said. Here. Show Mastersmith Fandarel these, and she put two small pots into the larger vessel. He can see exactly the change that occurs. Brekke, would you be kind enough to serve Fnor?
No need, Fnor said hastily and backed away, pot swinging from his hand. He used to be annoyed that Manora, who was only his mother, could never rid herself of the notion that he was incapable of doing for himself. She was certainly
quick enough to make her fosterlings fend for themselves, as his foster mother had made him.
Dont drop the pot when you go between, Fnor, was her parting admonition.
Fnor chuckled to himself. Once a mother, always a mother, he guessed, for Lessa was as broody about Felessan, the only child shed borne. Just as well the Weyrs practiced fostering. Felessan as likely a lad to Impress a bronze dragon as Fnor had seen in all his Turns at Searching got along far better with his placid foster mother than he would have with Lessa had she had the rearing of him.
As he ladled out a bowl of stew, Fnor wondered at the perversity of women. Girls were constantly pleading to come to Benden Weyr. Theyd not be expected to bear child after child till they were worn-out and old. Women in the Weyrs remained active and appealing. Manora had seen twice the Turns that, for instance, Lord Sifer of Bitras latest wife had, yet Manora looked younger. Well, a rider preferred to seek his own loves, not have them foisted on him. There were enough spare women in the Lower Caverns right now.
The klah might as well be medicine. He couldnt drink it. He quickly ate the stew, trying not to taste his food. Perhaps he could pick something up at Smithcrafthall at Telgar Hold.
Canth! Manoras got an errand for us, he warned the brown dragon as he strode from the Lower Cavern. He wondered how the women stood the smell.
Canth did, too, for the fumes had kept him from napping on the warm ledge. He was just as glad of an excuse to get away from Benden Weyr.
Fnor broke out into the early morning sunshine above Telgar Hold, then directed brown Canth up the long valley to the sprawling complex of buildings on the left of the Falls.
Sun flashed off the water wheels which were turned endlessly by the powerful waters of the three-pronged Falls and operated the forges of the Smithy. Judging by the thin black smoke from the stone buildings, the smelting and refining smithies were going at full capacity.
As Canth swooped lower, Fnor could see the distant clouds of dust that meant another ore train coming from the last portage of Telgars major river. Fandarels notion of putting wheels on the barges had halved the time it took to get raw ore down river and across land from the deep mines of Crom and Telgar to the Crafthalls throughout Pern.