“You don’t happen to have any maps of the Southern Continent in this Hold, do you?” asked F’lar.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Then Jaxom added a hasty explanation. “Fandarel gave us several sessions of chartmaking at his Hall.”
The charts were, however, incomplete. F’lar recognized them as copies of F’nor’s original explorations of the Southern Continent when the Benden wingsecond had taken Ramoth’s first clutch back ten Turns to mature before Thread would fall again-an undertaking marked by partial success.
“I have more comprehensive maps of the coastline,” Robinton said casually and scribbled a note to Menolly which he attached to the clasp on Zair’s collar. He sent the little bronze back to the Harper Hold with an entreaty not to forget his errand.
“And he’ll bring the charts back directly?” F’lar asked, skeptical and somewhat contemptuous. “Brekke and F’nor keep trying to convince me of their usefulness, too.”
“I suspect with something as important as the charts, Menolly will wheedle the watchdragon into bringing her.” Robinton sighed, wishing he’d thought to insist she return the charts by firelizard. No opportunity should be wasted.
“How much timing it have you done, Jaxom?” F’lar asked suddenly.
A flush suffused Jaxom’s face. With a start, Robinton saw the thin line of scar white against the reddened cheek. Luckily that side of Jaxom’s face was turned away from the Weyrleader.
“Well, sir…”
“Come, lad, I don’t know any young dragonrider who hasn’t used the trick to be on time. What I want to establish is how accurate Ruth’s time sense is. Some dragons don’t have any at all.”
“Ruth always knows when he is,” Jaxom replied with quick pride. “I’d say he has the best time memory on Pern.”
F’lar considered that for a long moment. “Have you ever tried any long jumps?”
Jaxom nodded slowly, his eyes flicking to Lytol whose face remained impassive.
“No wavering of the leap? No unduly long stay between?”
“No, sir. It’s easy to be accurate anyhow if you jump at night.”
“I’m not sure I follow that reasoning.”
“Those star equations that Wansor worked out. I think you were at that session in the Smithcrafthall …” The young man’s voice trailed off uncertainly until F’lar caught his drift and looked his surprise. “If you work out the position of the dominant stars in the skies, you can position yourself most accurately.”
“If you jump at night,” the Masterharper added, never having thought to put that use to Wansor’s equations.
“Never occurred to me to do that,” F’lar said.
“There is a precedent,” Robinton remarked, grinning, “in your own Weyr, F’lar.”
“Lessa used the stars from the tapestry to go back for the Oldtimers, didn’t she?” Jaxom had clearly forgotten that, and also, to judge by the sudden comic dismay on his face, forgotten that his reference to the Oldtimers was not adroit.
“We can’t ignore them, can we?” the Weyrleader said with more tolerance than Robinton had anticipated. “Well, they exist and can’t be ignored. To the present problem, Robinton. How long is it likely to take your firelizard?”
Just outside the Hold window a multivoiced squabbling arose, so obviously that of firelizards that they all hurried to the window.
“Menolly did it,” Robinton said in an undertone to Jaxom. “They’re here, F’lar.”
“Who? Menolly with the watchdragon?”
“No, sir,” Jaxom said, his voice triumphant, “Zair, and Menolly’s queen and her three bronzes. They’ve all got charts strapped to their backs.”
Zair flew in, cluttering in a combination of anger concern and confusion. Menolly’s four followed. The little queen. Beauty, started scolding all of them as she circled about the room. Robinton easily lured Zair to his arm. But Beauty kept her bronzes in circulation, out of reach, while F’lar, grinning sardonically, and Lytol, expressionless, watched the attempts of Robinton and Jaxom to land the other four firelizards.
“Ruth, would you tell Beauty to behave and come to my arm?” Jaxom cried as his futile attempts to coax the little queen began to assume ludicrous proportions in front of someone he was trying to impress.
Beauty let out a startled squawk but immediately came to rest on the table. She scolded Jaxom furiously as he undid the chart. She kept up her monologue as the bronzes timidly landed, not quite furling their wings, to have their burdens removed. Once free of their encumbrances, the bronzes retreated out the window. Beauty gave everyone in the room one final raucous harangue and then, with a flick of her tail, disappeared from sight. Zair let out one sort of apologetic cheep and hid his face in Robinton’s hair.