Weve had five Falls now, Flar went on gravely, glancing at the other Leaders, trying to see how far he could continue in his move to consolidate himself as their spokesman. Tkuls defection had shaken Dram badly. What Trons reaction would be, Flar didnt try to guess, but if the Fort Weyrleader found himself in a minority of one against the other four Leaders, would he decide to act against Tkul, even if it did mean siding with Flar? At Tillek Hold, eight days ago; Upper Crom Hold, five; high Lemos Hold north, three; Southern far west, two; and now High Reaches Hold. Undoubtedly Thread fell in the Western Sea but there is no question that Falls are more frequent and increasing in scope. No point on Pern is safe. No Weyr can afford to relax its vigil to a traditional six-day margin. He smiled grimly. Tradition!
Dram looked about to argue, but Flar caught and held his eyes until the man slowly nodded.
Thats easy to say, but what are you going to do about Tkul? Or Tron? Kylara had just realized no one was paying her any attention. Hes just as bad. He refuses to admit times have changed. Even when Mardra deliberately …
There was a brisk knock on the door but it swung open instantly, to admit the giant frame of Fandarel.
I was told you were here, Flar, and we are ready.
Flar scrubbed at his face, regretting the diversion.
The Lord Holders are in Conclave, he began and the Smith grunted acknowledgment, and there has been another unexpected development …
Fandarel nodded toward the fire lizard on Kylaras arm. I was told about them. There are many ways to fight Thread, of course, but not all are efficient. The merits of such creatures remain to be seen.
The merits Kylara began, ready to explode with outrage.
Robinton the Harper was beside her, whispering in her ear.
Grateful to Robinton, Flar turned to attend the Smith, who had stepped to the door, obviously wanting the dragonmen to accompany him. Flar was reluctant to see the distance-writer. It wouldnt receive the attention it deserved from the Lords or the people or the riders. The distance-writer made so much more sense in this emergency than unreliable lizards. And yet, if they did eat Thread …
He paused on the threshold, looking back toward Kylara and the Harper. Robinton looked directly at him.
Almost as if the Harper read his mind, Flar saw him smile winningly down at Kylara (though Flar knew the man detested her).
Flar, do you think its wise for Kylara to go out into that mob! Theyll scare the lizard, said the Harper.
But Im hungry Kylara protested. And theres music as the nearby thrum of a gitar was plainly audible.
That sounds like Tagetarl, Robinton said, with a bright grin. Ill call him in and send you choice victuals from the kitchen. Far better than struggling with that noisome rabble out there, I assure you. He handed her to a chair with great courtesy, motioning behind his back to Flar to leave.
As they stepped out into the bright sunlight, the crowd swirling noisily around them, Flar saw the merry-faced young man, gitar in hand, who had answered the Harpers whistle. Undoubtedly Robinton would be free to join them in a few moments if he read matters rightly. The young journeyman would definitely appeal to Kylaras ah nature.
Fandarel had set up his equipment in the far corner of the Court, where the outside wall abutted the cliff-Hold, a dragonlength from the stairs. Three men were perched atop the wall, carefully handing something down to the group working on the apparatus. As the Weyrleaders followed Fandarels swath through the press of bodies (the fellis blossom fragrance had long since given way to other odors), Flar was the object of many sidelong glances and broken conversations.
You watch, youll see, a young man in the colors of a minor Hold was saying in a carrying voice. Those dragonmen wont let us near a clutch …
The Lord Holders, you mean, another said. Fancy anything trusting that Nabolese. What? Oh. Great shells!