McCaffrey, Anne – DragonQuest. Chapter 15, 16

Lord Raid looked uneasily away from Lytol’s direct gaze.

“If,” and Lytol stressed the word as though he felt the possibility was remote, “the Lords decide to act in Conclave I shall strongly urge that no man fault Lord Jaxom’s conduct today. He acted in honor and at the promptings of his training. He best serves Pern, however, by returning to his Hold. At Ruatha, young Ruth will be cared for and honored — for as long as he is with us.”

There was no doubt that Larad and Asgenar were of Lytol’s mind. Old Sifer sat pulling at his lip, unwilling to look toward Raid.

“I still think dragonfolk belong in Weyrs!” Raid muttered, glum and resentful.

That problem apparently settled, Lessa turned to leave and nearly fell into F’nor’s arms.

He steadied her. “A weyr is where a dragon is,” he said in a low voice rippling with amusement. The strain of the past week still showed in his face but his eyes were clear and his lips no longer thin with tension. Brekke’s resolution was evidently all in his favor.

“She’s asleep,” he said. “I told you she wouldn’t Impress.”

Lessa made an impatient gesture. “At least the experience snapped her out of that shock.”

“Yes,” and there was a wealth of relief in the man’s soft affirmative.

“So, you’d better come with me to the Rooms. I want to find out why Masterfarmer Andemon has just flown in. And it’s about time you got back to work!”

F’nor chuckled. “It is, if someone else has been doing my work. Did anyone bring F’lar his Threads?” There was a note in his voice that told Lessa he was concerned.

F’ton did!”

“I thought he was riding Wingsecond to F’lar at Fort Weyr!”

“As you remarked the other morning, whenever you’re not here to keep him under control, F’lar rearranges matters.” She saw his stricken look and caught his arm, smiling up at him reassuringly; he wasn’t up to teasing yet. “No one could take your place with F’lar — or me. Canth and Brekke needed you more for a while.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “But that doesn’t mean things haven’t been happening and you’d better catch up. N’ton’s been included in our affairs because F’lar had a sudden glimpse of his mortality when he was sick and decided to stop being secretive. Or it might be another four hundred Turns or so before we control Thread.”

She gathered her skirt so she could move more rapidly over the sandy floor.

“Can I come, too?” asked the Harper.

“You? Sober enough to walk that far?”

Robinton chuckled, smoothing his rumpled hair back into place at his neck. “Lytol couldn’t drink me drunk, my dear Lady Lessa. Only the Smith has the — ah — capacity.”

There was no doubt that he was steady on his feet as the three walked toward the glow-marked entrance to the Rooms. The stars were brilliant in the soft black spring sky, and the glows on the lower levels threw bright circles of light on the sands. Above, on weyr ledges, dragons watched with gleaming opalescent eyes, occasionally humming with pleasure. High up, Lessa saw three dragon silhouettes by the Star Stones: Ramoth and Mnementh were perched to the right of the watchdragon, their wings overlapping. They were both smug tonight; she’d heard Ramoth’s tenor often that evening. It was such a relief to have her in an agreeable mood for a while. Lessa rather hoped there’d be a long interval before the queen felt the urge to mate again.

When they entered the Rooms, the spare figure of the Masterfarmer was bending over the largest of the tubs, turning the leaves of the fellis sapling. F’lar watched him with a wary expression while N’ton was grinning, unable to observe the solemnity of the moment.

As soon as F’lar caught sight of F’nor, he smiled broadly and quickly crossed the room to clasp his half-brother’s arm.

“Manora said Brekke had snapped out of shock. It’s twice a relief, believe me. I’d have been happier still if she’d brought herself to re-Impress …”

“That would have served no purpose,” F’nor said, so flatly contradictory that F’lar’s grin faded a little.

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