She didnt finish her sentence and turned so swiftly to mark the landing of another dragon that Robinton was certain she was at odds with Flars wishing to push a move against the Red Star.
Suddenly she stiffened, drawing in her breath sharply. Meron! What does he think hes doing here?
Easy, Lessa. I dont like him around any better than you, but Id rather keep him in sight, if you know what I mean.
But hes got no influence on the other Lords …
Robinton gave a harsh laugh. My dear Weyrwoman, considering the influence hes been exerting in other areas, he doesnt need the Lords support.
Robinton did wonder at the gall of the man, appearing in public anywhere a scant six days after hed been involved in the deaths of two queen dragons.
The Lord Holder of Nabol strode insolently to the focal point of the gathering, his bronze fire lizard perched on his forearm, its wings extended as it fought to maintain its balance. The little creature began to hiss as it became aware of the antagonism directed at Meron.
And this this innocuous tube is the incredible instrument that will show us the Red Star? Meron of Nabol asked scathingly.
Dont touch it, I beg of you. Wansor jumped forward, intercepting Nabols hand.
What did you say? The lizards hiss was no less sibilantly menacing than Merons tone. The Lords thin features, contorted with indignation, took on an added malevolence from the glow lights.
Fandarel stepped out of the darkness to his craftsmans side. The instrument is positioned for the viewing. To move it would destroy the careful work of some hours.
If it is positioned for viewing, then let us view! Nabol said and, after staring belligerently around the circle, stepped past Wansor. Well? What do you do with this thing?
Wansor glanced questioningly at the big Smith, who made a slight movement of his head, excusing him. Wansor gratefully stepped back and let Fandarel preside. With two gnarled fingers, the Smith delicately held the small round protuberance at the top of the smaller cylinder.
This is the eyepiece. Put your best seeing eye to it, he told Meron.
The lack of any courteous title was not lost on the Nabolese. Plainly he wanted to reprimand the Smith. Had Wansor spoken so, he would not have hesitated a second Robinton thought.
Merons lips slid into a sneer and, with a bit of a swagger, he took the final step to the distance-viewer. Bending forward slightly, he laid his eye to the proper place. And jerked his body back hastily, his face wearing a fleeting expression of shock and terror. He laughed uneasily and then took a second, longer look. Far too long a look to Robintons mind.
If there is any lack of definition in the image, Lord Meron Wansor began tentatively.
Shut up! Gesturing him away impatiently, Meron continued his deliberate monopoly of the instrument.
That will be enough, Meron, Groghe, Lord of Fort said as the others began to stir restlessly. Youve had more than your fair turn this round. Move away. Let others see.
Meron stared insolently at Groghe for a moment and then looked back into the eyepiece.
Very interesting. Very interesting, he said, his tone oily with amusement.
That is quite enough, Meron, Lessa said, striding to the instrument. The man could not be allowed any privilege.
He regarded her as he might a body insect, coldly and mockingly.
Enough of what Weyrwoman? And his tone made the title a vulgar epithet. In fact, his pose exuded such a lewd familiarity that Robinton found he was clenching his fists. He had an insane desire to wipe that look from Merons face and change the arrangement of the features in the process.
The Mastersmith, however, reacted more quickly. His two great hands secured Merons arms to his sides and, in a fluid movement, Fandarel picked the Nabolese Lord up, the mans feet dangling a full dragonfoot above the rock, and carried him as far away from the Star Stones as the ledge permitted. Fandarel then set Meron down so hard that the man gave a startled exclamation of pain and staggered before he gained his balance. The little lizard screeched around his head.