McCaffrey, Anne – DragonQuest. Chapter 3, 4

Eat, his bronze advised him. Let Lessa flatter G’narish Gyarmath doesn’t mind. Nor Ramoth. Nor I.

“What I do for my Weyr,” said Lessa with an exaggerated sigh as she returned a few moments later.

F’lar gave her a cynical look. “G’narish is more of a modern mind than he knows.”

“Then we’ll have to make him conscious of it,” Lessa said firmly.

“Just so long as it is ‘we’ who make him,” F’lar replied with mock severity, catching her hand and pulling her to him.

She made a token resistance, as she always did, scowling ferociously at him and then relaxed against his shoulder all at once. “Signal fires and sweepriding are not enough, F’lar,” she said thoughtfully. “Although I do believe we’ve worried too much about the change in Threadfall.”

“That nonsense was to fool G’narish and the others, but I thought you’d …”

“But don’t you see that you were right?”

F’lar gave her a long incredulous look.

“By the Egg, Weyrleader, you astonish me. Why can’t there be deviations? Because you, F’lar, compiled those Records and to spite the Oldtimers they must remain infallible? Great golden eggs, man, there were such things as Intervals when no Threads fell — as we both know. Why not a change of pace in Threadfall itself during a Pass?”

“But why? Give me one good reason why.”

“Give me one good reason why not! The same thing that affects the Red Star so that it doesn’t always pass close enough to cast Thread on us can pull it enough off course to change Fall! The Red Star is not the only one to rise and set with the seasons. There could be another heavenly body affecting not only us but the Red Star.”

“Where?”

Lessa shrugged impatiently. “How do I know? I’m not long in the eye like F’rad. But we can try to find out. Or have seven full Turns of certainty and schedule dulled your wits?”

“Now, see here, Lessa …”

Suddenly she pressed herself close to him, full of contrition for her sharp tongue. He held her close, all too aware that she was right. And yet … There had been that long and lonely wait until he and Mnementh could come into their own. The terrible dichotomy of confidence in his own prophecy that Thread would fall and fear that nothing would rescue the Dragonriders from their lethargy. Then the crushing realization that those all too few dragonmen were all that could save an entire world from destruction; the three days of torture between the initial fall over the impending one at Nerat Hold and Telgar Hold with Lessa who-knew-where. Did he not have a right to relax his vigilance? Some freedom from the weight of responsibility?

“I’ve no right to say such things to you,” Lessa was whispering in soft remorse.

“Why not? It’s true enough.”

“I ought never to diminish you, and all you’ve done, to placate a trio of narrow-minded, parochial, conservative …”

He stopped her words with a kiss, a teasing kiss that abruptly became passionate. Then he winced as her hands curving sensuously around his neck, rubbed against the Thread-bared skin.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Here, let me — ” and Lessa’s apology trailed off as she swiveled her body around to reach for the numbweed jar.

“I forgive you, dear heart, for all your daily machinations,” F’lar assured her sententiously. “It’s easier to flatter a man than fight him. I wish I had F’nor here right now!”

“I still haven’t forgiven that old fool T’ron,” Lessa said, her eyes narrowing, her lips pursed. “Oh, why didn’t F’nor just let T’reb have the knife?”

“F’nor acted with integrity,” F’lar said with stiff disapproval.

“He could’ve ducked quicker then. And you’re no better.” Her touch was gentle but the burns stung.

“Hmmm. What I have ducked is my responsibility to Our Pern in bringing the Oldtimers forward. We’ve let ourselves get bogged down on small issues, like whose was the blame in that asinine fight at the Mastersmith’s Hall. The real problem is to reconcile the old with the new. And we may just be able to make this new crisis work there to our advantage, Lessa.”

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