“Not with Ruathan Blood,” Lessa said, her gray eyes flashing. “The whole point of my relinquishing my blood right to this Hold when I became Weyrwoman was to cede it to the one remaining male with any Ruathan Blood in his veins-Jaxom! As long as I live, I will not permit Ruatha, of all the Holds on Pern, to be the prize for continent-wide blood duels among younger sons. Jaxom remains as Lord Holder-elect of Ruatha; he will never be a fighting dragonrider.”
“Just like to set matters straight,” Sangel said, stepping aside to avoid the icy stare Lessa gave him. “But you’ve got to admit, Weyrwoman, that riding dragons, no matter in how limited a fashion, can be dangerous. Heard about that weyrling at High Reaches …”
“Jaxom’s riding will be controlled at all times,” F’lar promised. He threw a warning glance at N’ton. “He will never fly to fight the Thread. The danger would be too great.”
“Jaxom is naturally a cautious lad,” Lytol joined the debate, “and I’ve made him properly aware of his responsibilities.”
Robinton saw N’ton’s grimace.
“Too cautious, N’ton?” asked F’lar, who had also noticed the Fort Weyrleader’s expression.
“Perhaps,” N’ton replied tactfully, with an apologetic nod to Lytol. “Or perhaps, inhibited is a better description. No offense meant, Lytol, but I noticed today that the lad finds himself … isolated from others. Having his own dragon accounts for part of it, I’m sure. Since no lads his age have been allowed a chance to Impress firelizards, the hold boys have no appreciation of his problems.”
“Dorse been nagging him again?” Lytol asked, pulling at his lower lip as he regarded N’ton.
“Then you’re not unaware of the situation?” N’ton appeared relieved.
“Certainly not. It’s one reason I myself have pressed you, F’lar, to permit the boy to fly. He would then be able to visit the Holds which have boys his age and rank.”
“But surely you’ve fosterlings?” Lessa cried, looking about the room as if she had somehow overlooked the presence of Holder younglings.
“I was about to arrange a half-Turn fostering for Jaxom when he Impressed.” Lytol spread one hand to indicate an end to that plan.
“I can’t support the notion of Jaxom leaving Ruatha for fostering,” Lessa said with a frown. “Not when he’s the last of the Bloodline…”
“Nor do I,” Lytol said, but it is necessary to reciprocate in fostering-”
“Tis not,” Lord Groghe said, clapping Lytol on the shoulder. “In fact, it’s a blessing not to. I’ve a lad Jaxom’s age to be fostered. Be a relief not to have to take another boy back. When I see what you’ve done to put Ruatha back on its feet and so prosperous, Lytol, the lad would learn from you how to Hold properly. That is, if there should be anything for him to Hold when he gets his majority.”
“That’s another matter I’d like to broach,” Lord Sangel said, stepping up to F’lar with a glance at Groghe for support. “What are we Holders to do?”
“To do?” asked F’lar, momentarily perplexed.
“With the younger sons,” Robinton said smoothly, “for whom there are no more holds to manage in South Boll, Fort, Ista, and Igen-to name the Lords with the largest families of hopeful sons.”
“The Southern Continent, F’lar, when can we start opening the Southern Continent?” Groghe asked. “That Toric, who stayed behind in the Southern Hold, maybe he could use a strong, active, energetic, ambitious lad or two, or three?”
“The Oldtimers are in the Southern Continent,”
Lessa said sternly. “They can do no one harm there, since the land is protected by grubs.”
“I hadn’t forgotten where the Oldtimers are, Weyrwoman,” Groghe remarked, raising his eyebrows. “Best place for ‘em, they don’t bother us, they do what they want, without making honest folk suffer.” There was a commendable lack of acrimony in Groghe’s tone, Robinton noticed, considering how badly Fort Hold had suffered from T’ron’s irresponsible conduct of Fort Weyr. “Point is. Southern’s a fair size, grubbed, too, so it doesn’t matter if the Oldtimers fly Thread or not, no real damage can be done.”
“Have you ever remained outside your Hold during Threadfall?” F’lar asked Lord Groghe.