The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [105]
“I think,” F’nor suggested, “it is the lack of cliff and cavern and the still, still quality of the place, the knowing that there are no other men or beasts about but us.”
Lessa nodded her head in agreement. “Ramoth, Canth, would having no Weyr upset you?”
We didn’t always live in caves, Ramoth replied, somewhat haughtily as she rolled over in the lake. Sizable waves rushed up the shore almost to where Lessa and F’nor were seated on a fallen tree trunk. The sun here is warm and pleasant, the water cooling. I would enjoy it here, but I am not to come.
“She is out of sorts,” Lessa whispered to F’nor. “Let Pridith have it, dear one,” she called soothingly to the golden queen. “You’ve the Weyr and all!”
Ramoth ducked under the water, blowing up a froth in disgruntled reply.
Canth admitted that he had no reservations at all about living Weyrless. The dry earth would be warmer than stone to sleep on, once a suitably comfortable hollow had been achieved. No, he couldn’t object to the lack of the cave as long as there was enough to eat.
“Well have to bring herdbeasts in,” F’nor mused. “Enough to start a good-sized herd. Of course, the wherries here are huge. Come to think of it, I believe this plateau has no exits. We wouldn’t need to pasture it off. I’d better check. Otherwise, this plateau with the lake and enough clear space for Holds seems ideal. Walk out and pick breakfast from the tree.”
“It might be wise to choose those who were not Hold-reared,” Lessa added. “They would not feel so uneasy away from protecting heights and stone-security.” She gave a short laugh. “I’m more a creature of habit than I suspected. All these open spaces, untenanted and quiet, seem . . . indecent.” She gave a delicate shudder, scanning the broad and open plain beyond the lake.
“Fruitful and lovely,” F’nor amended, leaping up to secure more of the orange-red succulents. “This tastes uncommonly good to me. Can’t remember anything this sweet and juicy from Nerat, and yet it’s the same variety.”
“Undeniably superior to what the Weyr gets. I suspect Nerat serves home first, Weyr last.”
They both stuffed themselves greedily.
Further investigation proved that the plateau was isolated, and ample to pasture a huge herd of food-beasts for the dragons. It ended in a sheer drop of several dragonlengths into denser jungle on one side, the sea-side escarpment on the other. The timber stands would provide raw material from which dwellings could be made for the Weyrfolk. Ramoth and Canth stoutly agreed dragonkind would be comfortable enough under the heavy foliage of the dense jungle. As this part of the continent was similar, weatherwise, to Upper Nerat, there would be neither intense heat nor cold to give distress.
However, if Lessa was glad enough to leave, F’nor seemed reluctant to start back.
“We can go between time and place on the way back,” Lessa insisted finally, “and be in the Weyr by late afternoon. The Lords will surely be gone by then.”
F’nor concurred, and Lessa steeled herself for the trip between. She wondered why the when between bothered her more than the where, for it had no effect on the dragons at all. Ramoth, sensing Lessa’s depression, crooned encouragingly. The long, long black suspension of the utter cold of between where and when ended suddenly in sunlight above the Weyr.
Somewhat startled, Lessa saw bundles and sacks spread out before the Lower Caverns as dragonriders supervised the loading of their beasts.
“What has been happening?” F’nor exclaimed.
“Oh, F’lar’s been anticipating success,” she assured him glibly.
Mnementh, who was watching the bustle from the ledge of the queen’s weyr, sent a greeting to the travelers and the information that F’lar wished them to join him in the weyr as soon as they returned.
They found F’lar, as usual, bent over some of the oldest and least legible Record skins that he had had brought to the Council Room.
“And?” he asked, grinning a broad welcome at them.
“Green, lush, and livable,” Lessa declared, watching