Jaxom felt Sharra’s hands struggle but, having decided to confront Toric in all his arrogance, Jaxom was not about to defer before Lessa. He kept a tight hold on Sharra as they turned toward the Weyrwoman.
“Come and see. Ramoth has struck something solid. And it doesn’t look like rock …”
Jaxom pulled Sharra up the slight incline to Lessa’s side of the mound. Ramoth was sitting back on her haunches, peering over Lessa to look into the trench her forepaws had scored.
“Move your head slightly, Ramoth. You’re in my light,” Lessa said. “Here, take my shovel, Jaxom, and see what you think. Clear out a bit more dirt.”
Jaxom jumped into a trench which reached to mid-thigh. “Feels solid enough,” he said, pressing his weight down before he tapped with the shovel. “Sounds like stone?” But it didn’t. The shovel thunked echoingly. Scrapping clear a long swath, Jaxom stepped aside for all to see.
“F’lar, come here! We’ve reached something!”
“So have we!” came the Weyrleader’s triumphant reply.
There was a mutual inspection from one dragon-dug trench to the other which exposed much the same material, except that in F’lar’s case the rocklike substance had an amber panel set into the curve of the mound. Finally the Mastersmith raised his huge arms above his head and roared for silence.
“This is not efficient use of time and energy.” A loud guffaw, almost contemptuous in agreement, came from Toric. “It is not funny,” the Smith said at his most serious. “We will concentrate on Lessa’s mound since it is smaller. Then we will work on Master Nicat’s and then …“He pointed to his own choice as Toric interrupted.
“All in one day?” he asked, again with a tone of supercilious derision that irritated Jaxom.
“We will do as much as we can, certainly, so let us begin!”
Jaxom decided that the Smith chose to ignore Toric’s attitude, an example for him to follow.
It also proved inefficient to have more than two dragons working on Lessa’s small mound since it was scarcely longer than a dragon. So F’lar and N’ton urged their bronzes to help Master Nicat.
By midafternoon the curving sides of Lessa’s mound had been unearthed to the original floor of the valley. Six panels, three on an arc of the curved roof, tantalized, but their surface, once undoubtedly transparent, was now badly scored and darkened. Attempts to see through to the interior were vain. Disappointing, but no openings were found on the long sides so one end was promptly dug out. The dragons, despite the gray-black dust that now dulled their hides, showed no sign of fatigue and considerable interest in this unlikely task. And shortly the access was unearthed.
A door, made of an opaque form of the material used in the roof panels, slid across the opening on rails. The dirt-clogged tracks had to be cleared and dragonhide oil applied to the runners before the door could be forced wide enough to permit entry. Lessa, all set to enter first, was restrained by the Smith’s hand.
“Wait! The air inside is sick with age! Smell! Let fresh air in first. The place has been shut who knows how many Turns!”
The Smith, Toric and N’ton, set their shoulders to the door and forced it fully open. The air that flooded out was fetid, and Lessa stepped back, sneezing and coughing. Dim rectangles of tan light fell on a dusty floor, touched cracked and water-stained walls. As Lessa and F’lar, followed by the others, made their way into the small building, dust swirled under their boots.
“What was it for?” Lessa asked in a hushed voice.
Toric, unnecessarily ducking his head, for the top of the doorway cleared even his height by another hand’s breadth, pointed to a far comer, to the now-visible remnants of a wide, wooden frame.
“Someone could have slept on that!” He turned to the other corner, and then with a sudden movement that made Lessa gasp, he stooped and came up with an object which he then made a show of presenting to her. “A treasure from the past!”
“It’s a spoon!” Lessa held it up for all to see, then ran her fingers over its shape. “But what’s it made of? It’s no metal I’ve ever seen. Certainly it’s not wood. It’s more like … like the panels, and the door, only transparent. But it’s strong,” and she tried to bend it.