That runner came from the south slope? Hes fast.
My forest men are the best in all Pern. Meron of Nabol has twice tried to lure that man from me.
And?
Lord Asgenar chuckled. Who trusts Meron? My man had heard tales of how that Lord treats his people. He seemed about to add another thought but cleared his throat instead, glancing nervously away as if catching a glimpse of something in the woods.
What all Pern needs is an efficient means of communication, remarked the dragonman, his eyes on the gasping runner.
Efficient? and Asgenar laughed aloud. Is all Pern infected with Fandarels disease?
Pern benefits by such an illness. Flar must contact the Mastersmith the moment he got back to the Weyr. Pern needed the genius of the giant Fandarel now more than ever.
Yes, but will we recover from the feverish urge for perfection? Asgenars smile faded as he added, in a deceptively casual fashion, Have you heard whether a decision has been reached about Bendareks guild?
None yet.
I do not insist that a Craftmasters Hall be sited in Lemos Asgenar began, urgent and serious.
Flar held up his hand. Nor I, though I have trouble convincing others of my sincerity. Lemos Hold has the biggest stands of wood, Bendarek needs to be near his best source of supply, and he comes of Lemos!
Every single objection raised has been ridiculous, Asgenar replied, his gray eyes sparkling with anger. You know as well as I that a Craftmaster owes no allegiance to a Lord Holder. Bendareks as unprejudiced as Fandarel as far as loyalty to anything but his craft is concerned. All the man thinks of is wood and pulp and those new leaves or sheets or what-you-ma-callums hes mucking about with.
I know. I know, Asgenar. Larad of Telgar Hold and Corman of Keroon Hold side with you or so theyve assured me.
When the Lord Holders meet in Conclave at Telgar Hold, Im going to speak out. Lord Raid and Sifer will back me, if only because were weyrbound.
It isnt the Lords or Weyrleaders who must make this decision, Flar reminded the resolute young Lord. Its the other Craftmasters. Thats been my thought since Fandarel first proposed a new craft designation.
Then whats holding matters up? All the Mastercraftsmen will be at the wedding at Telgar Hold. Lets settle it once and for all and let Bendarek alone. Asgenar threw his arms wide with frustration. We need Bendarek settled, we need what hes been producing and he cant keep his mind on important work with all this shifting and shouting.
Any proposal that smacks of change right now, (especially now, Flar added to himself, thinking of this Threadfall.) is going to alarm certain Weyrleaders and Lord Holders. Sometimes I think that only the Crafts constantly look for change, are interested and flexible enough to judge what is improvement or progressive. The Lord Holders and the Flar broke off.
Fortunately another runner was approaching from the north, his legs pumping strongly. He came straight past the green dragon, right up to his Lord.
Sir, the northern section is clear. Three burrows have been burned out. All is secure.
Good man. Well run.
The man, flushed with praise and effort, saluted the Weyrleader and his Lord. Then, breathing deeply but without labor, he strode over to the prone messenger and began massaging his legs.
Asgenar smiled at Flar. Theres no point in our rehearsing arguments. We are basically in agreement. If we could just make those others see!
Mnementh rumbled that the wings were reporting an all-clear. He so pointedly extended his foreleg that Asgenar laughed.
That does it, he said. Any idea how soon before we have another Fall?
Flar shook his head. Frad is here. You ought to have seven days free. Youll hear from me as soon as weve definite news.
Youll be at Telgar in six days, wont you?
Or Lessa will have my ears!
My regards to your lady.
Mnementh bore him upward in an elliptical course that allowed them to make one final check of the forest lands. Wisps of smoke curled to the north and farther to the east, but Mnementh seemed unconcerned. Flar told him to go between. The utter cold of that dimension painfully irritated the Thread scores on his face. Then they were above Benden Weyr. Mnementh trumpeted his return and hung, all but motionless, until he heard the booming response of Ramoth. At that instant, Lessa appeared on the ledge of the weyr, her slight stature diminished still further by distance. As Mnementh glided in, she descended the long flight of stairs in much the same headlong fashion for which they criticized their weyrling son, Felessan.