To assign riders to a Hold and a Craft?
Therell be riders in all Holds and Crafts before the mornings over, Flar grinned at him.
And Dram and Gnarish havent objected? Tbor glanced at Lessa, incredulous.
Well, Lessa began, and was saved from answering by the arrival of the other Weyrleaders.
Dram, Gnarish and the Wingsecond from Telgar Weyr entered first, with Pzar, the acting Weyrleader from Fort, very close behind them. The Telgar Weyr Wingsecond introduced himself as Mrek, Zigeths rider. He was a lanky, mournful-looking man, with sandy hair, about Flars age. As they settled themselves at the big table, Flar tried to read Drams mood. He was the crucial one still, the oldest of the remaining Oldtimers and, if hed cooled down from the stimulus of yesterdays tumultuous events and had changed his mind after sleeping, the proposal Flar was about to suggest might die a-hatching. Flar stretched his long legs under the table trying to make himself comfortable.
I asked you here early because we had little chance to talk last night. Mrek, hows Rmart?
He rests easily at Telgar Hold, thanks to the riders from Ista and Igen. Mrek nodded gravely to Dram and Kdor.
How many at Telgar Weyr wish to go south?
About ten, but theyre old riders. Do more harm than good, feeding nonsense to the weyrlings. Speaking of nonsense, Bedella came back from Telgar Hold with some mighty confusing stories. About us going to the Red Star and fire lizards and talking wires. I told her to keep quiet. Telgar Weyrs in no shape to listen to that kind of rumor.
Dram snorted and Flar looked at him quickly, but the Istan leaders head was turned toward Mrek. Flar caught Lessas eye and nodded imperceptibly.
There was talk about an expedition to the Red Star, Flar replied in a casual tone. Apprehension made the Telgar Weyrmans face more mournful than ever. But therere more immediate undertakings. Flar straightened cautiously. He couldnt get comfortable. And the Lord Holders and other craftsmen will be here soon to discuss them. Dram, tell me frankly, do you object to placing riders in Holds and Crafthalls while we cant pattern Thread that is, until we can find another reliable form of quick communication?
No, Flar, Ive no objections, the Istan Weyrleader replied, slowly, not looking at anyone. After yesterday He stopped and, turning his head, looked at Flar with troubled eyes. Yesterday, I think I finally realized just how big Pern is and how narrow a man can get, worrying so much about what he ought to have, forgetting what hes got. And what hes got to do. Times have changed. I cant say I like it. Pern had got so big and we Oldtimers kept trying to make it small again because, I guess, we were a little scared at all that had happened. Remember it took us just four days to come forward four hundred Turns. Thats too much time too much to sink into a mans thinking. Dram was nodding his head in unconscious emphasis. I think weve clung to the old ways because everything we saw, from those great, huge hour-long sweeps of forests to hundreds and hundreds of new Holds and Crafthalls was familiar and yet so different. Tron was a good man, Flar. I dont say I knew him well. None of us ever really got to know each other, you know, keeping to our Weyrs mostly and resting between Threadfalls. But all dragonmen are are dragonmen. For a dragonman to go to kill another one Dram shook his head slowly from side to side. You couldve killed him. Dram looked Flar straight in the eye. You didnt. You fought Thread over Igen Hold. And dont think I didnt know Trons knife got you.
Flar began to relax.
Nearly made two of me, in fact.
Dram gave another one of his snorts but the slight smile on his face as he leaned back in his chair indicated his approval of Flar.
Mnementh remarked to his rider that everyone was arriving at once. A bigger ledge was needed. Flar swore softly to himself. Hed counted on more time. He couldnt jeopardize the fragile new accord with Dram by springing distasteful innovations on the man.