“Back to the Weyr,” he ordered Mnementh with a heavy sigh. He heard the bronze relay the command even as he himself was taken between. He was so tired he did not even visualize wheremuch less, when relying on Mnementh’s instinct to bring him safely home through time and space.
Honor those the dragons heed,
In thought and favor, word and deed.
Worlds are lost or worlds are saved From those dangers dragon-braved.
CRANING HER neck toward the Star Stone at Benden Peak, Lessa watched from the ledge until she saw the four wings disappear from view.
Sighing deeply to quiet her inner fears, Lessa raced down the stairs to the floor of Benden Weyr. She noticed that someone was building a fire by the lake and that Manora was already ordering her women around, her voice clear but calm. Old C’gan had the weyrlings lined up. She caught the envious eyes of the newest dragonriders at the barracks windows. They’d have time enough to fly a flaming dragon. From what F’lar had intimated, they’d have Turns.
She shuddered as she stepped up to the weyrlings but managed to smile at them. She gave them their orders and sent them off to warn the Holds, checking quickly with each dragon to be sure the rider had given clear references. The Holds would shortly be stirred up to a froth. Canth told her that there were Threads at Keroon, falling on the Keroon side of Nerat Bay. He told her that F’nor did not think two wings were enough to protect the meadowlands. Lessa stopped in her tracks, trying to think how many wings were already out.
K’net’s wing is still here, Ramoth informed her. On the Peak.
Lessa glanced up and saw bronze Piyanth spread his wings in answer. She told him to get between to Keroon, close to Nerat Bay. Obediently the entire wing rose and then disappeared. She turned with a sigh to say something to Manora when a rush of wind and a vile stench almost overpowered her.
The air above the Weyr was full of dragons. She was about to demand of Piyanth why he hadn’t gone to Keroon when she realized there were far more beasts a-wing than K’net’s twenty. But you just left, she cried as she recognized the unmistakable bulk of bronze Mnementh.
That was two hours ago for us, Mnementh said with such weariness in his tone that Lessa closed her eyes in sympathy.
Some dragons were gliding in fast. From their awkwardness it was evident that they were hurt. As one, the women grabbed salve pots and clean rags and beckoned the injured down. The numbing ointment was smeared on score marks where wings resembled black and red lace. No matter how badly injured he might be, every rider tended his beast first.
Lessa kept one eye on Mnementh, sure that F’lar would not keep the huge bronze hovering like that if he’d been hurt.
She was helping Tsum with Munth’s cruelly pierced right wing when she realized that sky above the Star Stone was empty. She forced herself to finish with Munth before she went to find the bronze and his rider. When she did locate them, she also saw Kylara smearing salve on F’lar’s cheek and shoulder. She was advancing purposefully across the sands toward the pair when Canth’s urgent plea reached her. She saw Mnementh’s head swing upward as he, too, caught the brown’s thought.
“F’lar, Canth says they need help,” Lessa cried. She didn’t notice then that Kylara slipped away into the busy crowd. F’lar wasn’t badly hurt. She reassured herself about that.
Kylara had treated the wicked burns that seemed to be shallow. Someone had found him another fur to replace the tatters of the Thread-bared one. He frowned and winced because the frown creased his burned cheek. He gulped hurriedly at his klah.
Mnementh, what’s the tally of able-bodied? Oh, never mind, just get ‘em atoft with a full load of firestone.
“You’re all right?” Lessa asked, a detaining hand on his arm. He couldn’t just go off like this, could he?
He smiled tiredly down at her, pressed his empty mug into her hands, giving them a quick squeeze. Then he vaulted to Mnementh’s neck. Someone handed him a heavy load of sacks.