The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [106]
“That is what I had so hoped to hear you say,” F’lar went on smoothly. “Come tell me in detail what you observed and discovered. It’ll be good to fill in the blank spaces on the chart.”
Lessa let F’nor give most of the account, to which F’lar listened with sincere attention, making notes.
“On the chance that it would be practical, I started packing supplies and alerting the riders to go with you,” he told F’nor when the account was finished. “Remember, we’ve only three days in this time in which to start you back ten Turns ago. We have no moments to spare. And we must have many more mature dragons ready to fight at Telgar in three days’ time. So, though ten Turns will have passed for you, three days only will elapse here. Lessa, your thought that the farm-bred might do better is well-taken. We’re lucky that our recent Search for rider candidates for the dragons Pridith will have come mainly from the crafts and farms. No problem there. And most of the thirty-two are in their early teens.”
“Thirty-two?” F’nor exclaimed. “We should have fifty. The dragonets must have some choice, even if we get the candidates used to the dragonets before they’re hatched.”
F’lar shrugged negligently. “Send back for more. You’ll have time, remember,” and F’lar chuckled as though he had started to add something and decided against it.
F’nor had no time to debate with the Weyrleader, for F’lar immediately launched on other rapid instructions.
F’nor was to take his own wingriders to help train the weyrlings. They would also take the forty young dragons of Ramoth’s first clutch: Kylara with her queen Pridith, T’bor and his bronze Piyanth. N’ton’s young bronze might also be ready to fly and mate by the time Pridith was, so that gave the young queen two bronzes at least.
“Suppose we’d found the continent barren?” F’nor asked, still puzzled by F’lar’s assurance. “What then?”
“Oh, we’d’ve sent them back to, say, the High Reaches,” F’lar replied far too glibly, but quickly went on. “I should send on other bronzes, but I’ll need everyone else here to ride burrow-search on Keroon and Nerat. They’ve already unearthed several at Nerat. Vincet, I’m told, is close to heart attack from fright.”
Lessa made a short comment on that Hold Lord.
“What of the meeting this morning?” F’nor asked, remembering.
“Never mind that now. You’ve got to start shifting between by evening, F’nor.”
Lessa gave the Weyrleader a long hard look and decided she would have to find out what had happened in detail very soon.
“Sketch me some references, will you, Lessa?” F’lar asked.
There was a definite plea in his eyes as he drew clean hide and a stylus to her. He wanted no questions from her now that would alarm F’nor. She sighed and picked up the drawing tool.
She sketched quickly, with one or two details added by F’nor until she had rendered a reasonable map of the plateau they had chosen. Then, abruptly, she had trouble focusing her eyes. She felt light-headed.
“Lessa?” F’lar bent to her.
“Everything’s . . . moving . . . circling . . .” and she collapsed backward into his arms.
As F’lar raised her slight body into his arms, he exchanged an alarmed look with his half brother.
“How do you feel?” the Weyrleader called after his brother.
“Tired but no more than that,” F’nor assured him as he shouted down the service shaft to the kitchens for Manora to come and for hot klah. He needed that, and no doubt of it.
F’lar laid the Weyrwoman on the sleeping couch, covering her gently.
“I don’t like this,” he muttered, rapidly recalling what F’nor had said of Kylara’s decline, which F’nor could not know was yet to come in his future. Why should it start so swiftly with Lessa?
“Time-jumping makes one feel slightly—” F’nor paused, groping for the exact wording. “Not entirely . . . whole. You fought between times at Nerat yesterday. . . .”
“I fought,” F’lar reminded him, “but neither you nor Lessa battled anything today. There may be some