The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [123]
Just then the eastern wings soared straight upward in the sky as the dragons became instinctively aware of the presence of their ancient foe.
Mnementh raised his head, echoing back the brass thunder of the war cry. He turned his head, even as hundreds of other beasts turned to receive firestone from their riders. Hundreds of great jaws masticated the stone, swallowed it, their digestive acids transforming dry stone into flame-producing gases, igniting on contact with oxygen.
Threads! F’lar could see them clearly now against the spring sky. His pulses began to quicken, not with apprehension, but with a savage joy. His heart pounded unevenly. Mnementh demanded more stone and began to speed up the strokes of his wings in the air, gathering himself to leap upward when commanded.
The leading Weyr already belched gouts of orange-red flame into the pale blue sky. Dragons winked in and out, flamed and dove.
The great golden queens sped at cliff-skimming height to cover what might have been missed.
Then F’lar gave the command to gain altitude to meet the Threads halfway in their abortive descent. As Mnementh surged upward, F’lar shook his fist defiantly at the winking Red Eye of the Star.
“One day,” he shouted, “we will not sit tamely here, awaiting your fall. We will fall on you, where you spin, and sear you on your own ground.”
By the Egg, he told himself, if we can travel four hundred Turns backward and across seas and lands in the blink of an eye, what is travel from one world to another but a different kind of step?
F’lar grinned to himself. He’d better not mention that audacious notion in Lessa’s presence.
Clumps ahead, Mnementh warned him.
As the bronze dragon charged, flaming, F’lar tightened his knees on the massive neck. Mother of us all, he was glad that now, of all times conceivable, he, F’lar, rider of bronze Mnementh, was a dragonman of Pern!
VOLUME II
DRAGONQUEST
CONTENTS
Dedication
I Morning at Mastercrafthall, Fort Hold / Several Afternoons Later at Benden Weyr / Midmorning (Telgar Time) at Mastersmithcrafthall, Telgar Hold
II Evening (Fort Weyr Time). Meeting of the Weyrleaders at Fort Weyr
III Morning over Lemos Hold
IV Midday at Southern Weyr
V Midmorning at Ruatha Hold / Early Evening at Benden Weyr
VI Midmorning at Southern Weyr / Early Morning at Nabol Hold: Next Day
VII Midmorning at Benden Weyr / Early Morning at the Mastersmithcrafthall, Telgar Hold
VIII Midmorning at Southern Weyr
IX Afternoon at Southern Weyr: Same Day
X Early Morning in Harpercrafthall at Fort Hold / Afternoon at Telgar Hold
XI Early Morning at Benden Weyr
XII Morning at Benden Weyr / Predawn at High Reaches Weyr
XIII Night at Fort Weyr: Six Days Later
XIV Early Morning at Ruatha Hold / Midday at Benden Weyr
XV Evening at Benden Weyr: Impression Banquet
XVI Evening at Benden Weyr / Later Evening at Fort Weyr
To
Anne Dorothy McElroy McCaffrey
my mother.
CHAPTER I
Morning at Mastercrafthall, Fort Hold
Several Afternoons Later at Benden Weyr
Midmorning (Telgar Time) at
Mastersmithcrafthall, Telgar Hold
How to begin? mused Robinton, the Masterharper of Pern.
He frowned thoughtfully down at the smoothed, moist sand in the shallow trays of his workdesk. His long face settled into deep-grooved lines and creases, and his eyes, usually snapping blue with inner amusement, were gray-shadowed with unusual gravity.
He fancied the sand begged to be violated with words and notes while he, Pern’s repository and glib dispenser of any ballad, saga or ditty, was inarticulate. Yet he had to construct a ballad for the upcoming wedding of Lord Asgenar of Lemos Hold to the half-sister of Lord Larad of Telgar Hold. Because of recent reports of unrest from his network of drummers and Harper journeymen, Robinton had decided to remind the guests on this auspicious occasion—for every Lord Holder and Craftmaster would be invited—of the debt they owed the dragonmen of Pern. As the subject of his ballad, he had decided to tell of the fantastic