CHAPTER VII
Morning at Ruatha Hold, 15’.6.2
“I CAME TO TELL you that we have guests. Lord Jaxom; Master Robinton, N’ton and Menolly are above, just back from the Hatching. First, let’s see to Ruth.”
“Didn’t you go to Benden for the Hatching?” Jaxom asked.
Lytol shook his head as he walked toward Ruth’s weyr. The white dragon was settling in for a well-deserved nap. Lytol bowed courteously to him before peering closely at the thickly smeared scorings.
“You washed first in the lake, I presume.” Lytol’s glance took in Jaxom’s damp hair. “That water’s pure enough, and the numbweed’s been applied in good time. We’ll check again in a few hours. But I think he’s all right.” Lytol’s gaze went then to Jaxom’s all-too-obvious scoring.
“I had no reason to excuse you to our guests.” He sighed. “Be grateful it’s N’ton above and not F’lar. I suppose Menolly knew what you were about?”
“I told no one what I intended. Lord Lytol,” Jaxom said with some formality.
“At least you’ve learned discretion.” The Lord Warder hesitated, his eyes sweeping the figure of his ward. “Ah, well, I’d best ask N’ton to take you for weyrling practice-safer that way and you’d be with others. Robinton will guess what you’ve been about, but he’d learn in due course no matter how we evaded. Come then, they’ll not give you too hard a time for your clumsiness. Not that you don’t deserve more than a ribbing, taking such a chance with yourself and Ruth. And right now, when order is all in pieces anyhow …”
“I apologize for distressing you. Lord Lytol…”
The man subjected his charge to another shrewd scrutiny.
“No distress, Lord Jaxom. Any apologies are on my head. I ought to have realized your need to prove Ruth’s abilities. I wish that you were a few Turns older and that matters were in such order that I could let you take Hold-”
“I don’t want to take Hold from you. Lord Lytol-”
“I don’t think I’d be permitted to step down right now anyway, Jaxom. As you’ll hear for yourself. Come, we’ve kept our guests waiting long enough as it is.”
N’ton was facing the door of the smaller hall used at Ruatha when guests required privacy for their discussions. The bronze rider took one look at Jaxom’s face and groaned. At his reaction. Master Robinton slewed round in his chair, his tired eyes registering surprise and, Jaxom hoped, a certain measure of approval.
“You’re Threadscored, Jaxom,” Menolly cried, and her expression was one of shocked dismay. “How could you take such a risk right now?” She, who had taunted him about thinking, not doing, was now furious with him.
“I should have known you’d try it, young Jaxom,” N’ton said with a weary sigh, a rueful smile on his face. “You were bound to break out soon, but your timing is atrocious.”
Jaxom would have liked to say that, in point of fact, his timing had been faultless, but N’ton went on: “Ruth wasn’t hurt, was he?”
“A single score on thigh and foot,” Lytol replied. “Well doctored.”
“I do sympathize with your ambition, Jaxom,” Robinton said, unusually solemn, “to fly Ruth with other dragons but I must counsel you to patience.”
“I’d rather he learned how to fly properly now, Robinton. With my other weyrlings,” N’ton interrupted unexpectedly, winning Jaxom’s gratitude. “Particularly if he’s mad enough, brave enough, to try it on his own without any guidance.”
“I doubt we could get Benden to approve,” Robinton said, shaking his head.
“I approve,” Lytol said in a firm voice, his face set. “I am Lord Jaxom’s guardian, not F’lar or Lessa. Let her manage her own concerns. Lord Jaxom is my charge. He can come to little harm with the Fort Weyrlings.” Lytol stared fiercely at Jaxom. “And he will agree not to put his teaching to the test without consulting us. Will you abide by that. Lord Jaxom?”
Jaxom was relieved enough to know that the Benden Weyrleaders would not be queried so that he agreed to more stringent conditions than he might have. He nodded and was immediately beset by conflicting emotions-amusement because everyone had assumed the obvious and annoyance because, having achieved so much more that day, he was now reduced to apprentice level. Yet, his experience at Keroon had demonstrated too sharply how much he still had to learn about fighting Thread if he wished to keep whole his and his dragon’s hides.