Jaxoms reflections were brought to an abrupt stop as the dragon took them between.
You count to three slowly, Jaxom told his frantic mind as he lost all sense of sight and sound, of contact, even of the soft dragon hide beneath his hands. He tried to count and couldnt. His mind seemed to freeze, but just as he was about to shriek, they burst out into the late afternoon, over Benden Weyr. Never had the Bowl seemed so welcome, with its high walls softened and colored by the lambent sun. The black maws of the individual weyrs, set in the face of the inner wall, were voiceless mouths, greeting him all astonished.
As they circled down, Jaxom spotted bronze Mnementh, surely the hugest dragon ever hatched, lounging on the ledge to the queens weyr. Shed be in the Hatching Ground, Jaxom knew, for the new clutch was still hardening on the warm sands. Thered be another Impression soon. And there was a golden queen egg in the new clutch. Jaxom had heard that another Ruathan girl had been one of those chosen on Search. Another Ruathan Weyrwoman, he was positive His Hold had bred up more Weyrwomen … Mardra, of course, was nowhere near as important as Lessa or Moreta, but she had come from Ruatha. Shed some real funny notions about the Hold. She always annoyed Lytol. Jaxom knew that, because the twitch in his Warders cheek would start jumping. It didnt when Lessa visited. Except that lately Lessa had stopped coming to Ruatha Hold.
The young Lord of Ruatha spotted Lessa now, as they circled again to bring the queens weyr in flight line. She and Flar were on the ledge. The green called, answered by Mnemenths bass roar. A muffled bellow reverberated through the Weyr. Ramoth, the queen, took notice of their arrival.
Jaxom felt much better, particularly when he also caught sight of a small figure, racing across the Bowl floor to the stairs up to the queens weyr. Felessan. His friend. He hadnt seen him in months. Jaxom didnt want the flight to end but he couldnt wait to see Felessan.
Jaxom was nervously conscious of Lytols critical eyes as he made his duty to the Weyrwoman and to Weyrleader. Hed rehearsed words and bows often enough. He ought to have it down heart-perfect, yet he heard himself stammering out the traditional words and felt the fool.
You came, you came. I told Gandidan youd come, cried Felessan, dashing up the steps, two at a time. He clearly knocked Jaxom down with his antics. Felessan was three Turns his junior but he was of the dragonfolk, and even if Lessa and Flar had turned their son over to a foster mother, he ought to have more manners. Maybe what Mardra was always carping about was true. The new weyrmen had no manners.
In that instant, as if the younger boy sensed his friends disapproval, he drew himself up and, still all smiles, bowed with commendable grace to Lytol,
Good afternoon to you, Lord Warder Lytol. And thank you for bringing Lord Jaxom. May we be excused?
Before any adult could answer, Felessan had Jaxom by the hand and was leading him down the steps.
Stay out of trouble, Lord Jaxom, Lytol called after them.
Theres little trouble they can get into here, Lessa laughed.
I had the entire Hold mustered this morning, only to find him in the bowels of the Hold itself, where a rockfall …
Now why did Lytol have to tell Lessa? Jaxom groaned to himself, with a flash of his previous discontent.
Did you find anything? Felessan demanded as soon as they were out of earshot.
Find anything?
Yes, in the bowels of the Hold. Felessans eyes widened and his voice took on Lytols inflections.
Jaxom kicked at a rock, pleased by the trajectory and the distance it flew. Oh, empty rooms, full of dust and rubbish. An old tunnel that led nowhere but an old slide. Nothing great.
Cmon, Jax.
Felessans sly tone made Jaxom look at him closely.
Where?
Ill show you.
The weyrboy led Jaxom into the Lower Cavern, the main chamber with a vaulting roof where the Weyr met for sociability and evening meals. There was a smell of warm bread and simmering meats. Dinner preparations were well along, tables set and women and girls bustling about, making pleasant chatter. As Felessan veered past a preparation table, he snatched up a handful of raw roots.