I will sit here in the sun, Ruth told Jaxom, poking his head past the entrance to their quarters. My bed hasn’t been swept.
“Everyone’s been so busy cleaning for Lessa’s visit,” Jaxom said, giggling as he remembered the terror in Deelan’s face when Lytol had told her that the Weyrwoman was coming. In his milkmother’s eyes, Lessa was still the only full-blooded Ruathan left alive after Fax’s treacherous attack on the Hold over twenty Turns ago.
Jaxom stripped off his damp tunic as he entered his own room. The water in the jar by his sink was tepid and he grimaced. He really ought to be as clean as his dragon but he didn’t think he’d have time to get to the Hold’s hot baths before the Weyrleaders came. It wouldn’t do for him to be absent when they arrived. He washed with soapsand and the tepid water.
They come, Ruth announced the words in Jaxom’s mind just before old Wilth and Lioth heralded the visitors with appropriate trumpetings.
Jaxom rushed to the window and peered out, catching a glimpse of huge wings as the newcomers settled into the great courtyard. He didn’t wait long enough to see the Benden dragons remove themselves to the fire-heights, accompanied by excited fairs of fire lizards. Drying himself hurriedly, he wriggled out of his wet trousers. It didn’t take him long to don his good new clothes and stamp into the boots made especially for this occasion and lined with downy wherry-hide for warmth in flight. Recent practice made it easy for him to rig the riding straps on the eager little dragon.
As Jaxom and Ruth emerged from their quarters, Jaxom was again assailed by apprehension. What if N’ton had been wrong? What if Lessa and F’lar decided to wait just a few more months to see if Ruth would grow? What if Ruth, being such a small dragon, didn’t have enough strength to fly him? Supposing he hurt Ruth?
Ruth crooned encouragingly. You couldn’t hurt me. You are my friend. And he butted Jaxom affectionately, whiffling against his face with warm sweet breath.
Jaxom inhaled deeply, hoping to settle his agitated belly. He then became aware of the gathering on the steps of the Hold. Why did there have to be so many people here today?
There are not many, Ruth told him, his tone surprised as he lifted his head to observe the gathering. And many firelizards to see me, too. I know everyone here today. So do you.
Jaxom realized that he did. Taking courage from his dragon’s acceptance of such a large audience, he straightened his shoulders and strode forward.
F’lar and Lessa, as the chief dragonriders, were the most important guests. F’nor, brown Canth’s rider and mate of the sad Brekke, was also present but he was a good friend to Jaxom. N’ton, of course, was there since he was Fort’s Weyrleader and Ruatha was beholden to Fort Weyr. Master Robinton as Harper of Pern was here and, beside him, Jaxom was glad to see Menolly, the Harper girl who had often been his champion. Jaxom reluctantly admitted the right of Lord Sangel of South Boll and Lord Groghe of Fort to be present as representatives of the Holders.
At first Jaxom couldn’t see Lord Lytol. Then Finder moved to say something to Menolly and Jaxom spotted his guardian. He hoped Lytol would really look at Ruth this once, if never again.
They had crossed the courtyard now and stood before the steps, Jaxom resting his right hand on Ruth’s strong, gracefully curved neck, and squarely faced the judges.
Extending one hand in greeting towards Ruth, Lessa smiled at Jaxom as she stepped down to welcome him. “Ruth has filled out a great deal since last spring, Jaxom,” she said, her manner reassuring as well as appreciative. “But you ought to eat more. Lytol, does Deelan never feed the child? He’s nothing but bones.”
Jaxom was shocked when he realized that he now was taller than Lessa, and she was cocking her head to look up at him. He’d always thought of Lessa as big. To be looking down on the Weyrwoman of Benden was somehow embarrassing.