but Chrislee had spurned Bitra’s offer and that refusal had long rankled
in Chalkin’s mind.
The Bitran Holder mentally ran through possible excuses for leaving
right after dinner: one plausible enough to be accepted by the others.
This close to putative Threadfall, he had to be careful of alienating
the wrong people. If he left before the dinner… but then he wouldn’t
have a chance to sample this champagne-style wine, and he was determined
to.
He’d taken the trouble to go to Hegmon’s Benden vineyard, with the clear
intention of buying cases of the vintage. But Hegmon had refused to see
him. Oh, his eldest son had been apologetic – something about a
critical time in the process requiring Hegmon’s presence in the caverns
– but the upshot was that Chalkin couldn’t even get his name put down on
the purchase list for the sparkling wine. Since Benden Weyr was likely
to get the lion’s share of it, Chalkin had to keep in good with the
Benden Weyrleaders so that, at the Hatching which was due to occur in
another few weeks, he’d be invited and could drink as much of their
allotment of wines as he could.
More than one way to skin a wherry!
He paused to twirl one of the bottles in its ice nest. Almost perfectly
chilled. Riders must have brought the ice in from the High Reaches for
Paulin. Whenever he needed some, he couldn’t find a rider willing to do
him, Bitra’s Lord Holder, such a simple service. Humph!
But of course, certain Bloodlines always got preferential treatment.
Rank didn’t mean as much as it should, that was certain!
He was surreptitiously inspecting the label of a bottle when there was a
sudden, startled intake of fearful breaths from the watchers, instantly
followed by a wild cheer. Looking up, he saw he had just missed some
sort of dangerous manoeuvre Ah, yes, they’d done another mid-air rescue.
He saw a bronze dragon veering from under a blue who was miming a
wounded wing: both riders now safely aboard the bronze’s neck. Quite
likely that Telgar Weyrleader who was such a dare-devil.
Cheers were now punctuated with applause and some banging of drums from
the bandsmen on their podium down on the wide courtyard that spread out
from the steps to the Hold down to the two right-angled annexes. Once
again, both the infirmary and the teachers’ college were being enlarged,
if the scaffolding was a reliable indication. Chalkin snorted, for the
buildings were being extended outward, wide open to any Thread which was
purportedly supposed to start falling again. They really ought to be
consistent! Of course, tunnelling into the cliff would take more time
than building outside. But too many folks preached one thing and
practised another.
Chalkin grunted to himself, wondering acidly if the architects had got
Weyrleader approval for the design. Thread! He snorted again and
wished that Paulin, chatting so cosily with the two Benden Holders as he
and his wife escorted them back to the head table, would hurry up.
He was dying to sample the bubbly white.
Rattling his fingers on the table, he awaited the return of his host and
the opening of the tempting bottles in the cooler.
K’vin, bronze Charanth’s rider, put his lips close to the ear of the
young blue rider sitting in front of him.
Next time wait for my signal!” he said.
P’tero only grinned, giving him a backward glance, his bright blue eyes
merry.
Knew you’d catch me, he bellowed back. Too many people watching to
let me swing and give Weyr secrets away!” Then P’tero waved
encouragingly at Ormonth, who was now flying anxiously at Charanth’s
wingtip. Though unseen from the ground, the safety-tethers still linked
the blue rider to his dragon. P’tero unbuckled his end of the straps
and they dangled free.
Lucky you that I was looking up just then!” K’vin said so harshly that
the brash lad flushed to his ear tips. Look at the fright you’ve given
Ormonth!” And he gestured towards the blue, his hide flushing in mottled
spots from his recent scare.
P’tero yelled something else which K’vin didn’t catch so he leaned
forward, putting his right ear nearer the blue rider’s mouth.