McCaffrey, Anne – DragonQuest. Chapter 11, 12

“Grall? She’s with Canth, of course. She heard Ramoth grumbling on the Hatching Ground.”

“Hmm, yes. Fortunately, those eggs’ll hatch soon.”

“Going to invite all Pern’s notables as you did before the Oldtimers got stuffy?”

“Yes,” F’lar replied so emphatically that F’nor pretended alarm. “That courtesy did more good than harm. It’ll be standard procedure at all the Weyrs now.”

“And you’ve talked the Leaders into assigning riders to Hold and Hall?” F’nor’s eyes gleamed when F’lar nodded.

Can you slip through whatever patrol T’kul has mounted in Southern?” F’lar asked.

“No problem. There isn’t a bronze there that Canth can’t out fly. Which reminds me …”

“Good. I’ve two errands for you. Pick up those fire-lizard eggs and, do you remember the coordinates for the Threadfall in the western swamp?”

“Of course, but I wanted to ask you …”

“You saw the grub life in the soil there?”

“Yes …”

“Ask Manora for a tightly covered pot. I want you to bring me back as many of those grubs as you can. Not a pleasant job, I know, but I can’t go myself and I don’t want this — ah — project discussed.”

“Grubs? A project?”

Mnementh bellowed a welcome.

“I’ll explain later,” F’lar said, gesturing toward the weyr entrance.

F’nor shrugged as he rose. “I’ll fly the hazard, O inscrutable one!” Then he laughed as F’lar glared at him in angry reproach. “Sorry. Like the rest of Pern — the north, that is — I trust you.” He gave them both a jaunty salute and left.

“The day F’nor doesn’t tease you I’ll start to worry,” Lessa said, encircling his neck with her arms. She laid her cheek against his for an instant. “It’s T’bor,” she added, moving away just as the new High Reaches Weyrleader strode in.

The man looked as if he hadn’t slept enough but he carried his shoulders back and his head high which made the Benden Weyrleader more aware of the worried and wary expression on his face.

“Kylara’s — ” F’lar began, remembering that she and Meron had been gabbling together all the last night.

“Not Kylara. It’s that T’kul who thought himself such a great Weyrleader,” T’bor said with utter disgust. “As soon as we brought our people up from Southern, I had the wings do a sweep check, really more to familiarize themselves with the coordinates than anything else. By the first Egg, I don’t like seeing anyone run from dragonmen. Run. And hide!” T’bor sat down, automatically taking the cup of klah Lessa handed him. “There wasn’t a watch fire or a watchman. But plenty of burn sign I don’t see how that much Thread could have got through. Not even if smokeless weyrlings were riding the sweep. So I dropped down to Tillek Hold and asked to see Lord Oterel.” T’bor gave a low whistle. “That was some greeting I got, I want to tell you. I nearly had an arrow through my belly before I convinced the guard captain that I wasn’t T’kul. That I was T’bor and there’d been a change of Leaders at the Weyr.”

T’bor took a deep breath. “It took time to calm Lord Holder Oterel down to the point where I could tell him what had happened. And it seemed to me “ and the Southerner looked nervously first at Lessa and then at F’lar, “that the only way to restore his confidence was to leave him a dragon. So — I left him a bronze and stationed two greens in those minor Holds along the Bay. I also left weyrlings at vantage heights along the Tillek Hold range. Then I asked Lord Oterel to accompany me to Lord Bargen’s Hold at High Reaches. I’d a good idea I might not get past his guard at all. Now, we’d six eggs left over from that clutch Toric of the Seahold unearthed and so — I gave two each to the Lords and two to the Masterfisherman. It seemed the only thing to do. They’d heard Lord Meron had one — at Nabol Hold.” T’bor straightened his shoulders as if to endure F’lar’s opprobrium.

“You did the right thing, T’bor,” F’lar told him heartily. “You did exactly the right thing. You couldn’t have done better!”