The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [199]
“I told you,” Kylara was saying in sullen anger, “that I found a clutch and Impressed this queen. When I got back, there wasn’t anyone left here who knew where you’d all gone. Prideth has to have coordinates, you know.” She turned toward F’lar now, her eyes glittering. “My duty to you, F’lar of Benden,” and her voice took on a caressing tone which made T’bor stiffen and clench his teeth. “How kind of you to fight with us when Benden Weyr has troubles of its own.”
F’lar ignored the jibe and nodded a curt acknowledgment.
“See my fire lizard. Isn’t she magnificent?” She held up her right arm, exhibiting the drowsing golden lizard, the outlines of her latest meal pressing sharp designs against her belly hide.
“Wirenth was here and Brekke. They knew,” T’bor told her.
“Her!” Kylara dismissed the weyrwoman with a negligent shrug of contempt. “She gave me some nonsensical coordinates, deep in the western swamp. Threads don’t fall . . .”
“They did today,” T’bor cried, his face suffused with anger.
“Do tell!”
Prideth began to rumble restlessly and Kylara, the hard defiant lines of her face softening, turned to reassure her.
“See, you’ve made her uneasy and she’s so near mating again.”
T’bor looked dangerously close to an outburst which, as Weyrleader, he could not risk. Kylara’s tactic was so obvious that F’lar wondered how the man could fall for it. Would it improve matters to have T’bor supplanted by one of the other bronze riders here? F’lar considered, as he had before, throwing Prideth’s next mating flight into open competition. And yet, he owed T’bor too much for coping with this—this female to insult him by such a measure. On the other hand, maybe one of the more vigorous Oldtime bronzes with a rider just sufficiently detached from Kylara’s ploys, and interested enough in retaining a Leadership, might keep her firmly in line.
“T’bor, the map of this continent’s in the Weyrhall, isn’t it?” F’lar asked, diverting the man. “I’d like to set the coordinates of this Fall in my mind . . .”
“Don’t you like my queen?” Kylara asked, stepping forward and raising the lizard right under F’lar’s nose.
The little creature, unbalanced by the sudden movement, dug her razor-sharp claws into Kylara’s arm, piercing the wher-hide as easily as Thread pierced leaf. With a yelp, Kylara shook her arm, dislodging the fire lizard. In midfall the creature disappeared. Kylara’s cry of pain changed to a shriek of anger.
“Look what you’ve done, you fool. You’ve lost her.”
“Not I, Kylara,” F’lar replied in a hard, cold voice. “Take good care you do not push others to their limit!”
“I’ve limits, too, F’lar of Benden,” she screamed as the two men strode quickly toward the Weyrhall. “Don’t push me. D’you hear? Don’t push me!” She kept up her curses until Prideth, now highly agitated, drowned her out with piteous cries.
At first the two Weyrleaders went through the motions of studying the map and trying to figure out where Thread might have fallen elsewhere undetected on the Southern continent. Then Prideth’s complaints died away and the clearing was vacant.
“It comes down to manpower again, T’bor,” F’lar said. “There ought to be a thorough search of this continent. Oh, I’m aware,” and he held up his hand to forestall a defensive rebuttal, “that you simply don’t have the personnel to help, even with the influx of holderfolk from the mainland. But Thread can cross mountains,” he tapped the southern chain, “and we don’t know what’s been happening in these uncharted areas. We’ve assumed that Threadfall occurred only in this coastline portion. Once established though, a single burrow could eat its way across any land mass and—” He made a slashing movement of both hands. “I’d give a lot to know how Thread could fall unnoticed in those swamps for two hours and leave no trace of a burrow!”
T’bor grunted agreement but F’lar sensed that his mind was not on this problem.
“You’ve had more than your share of grief with that woman, T’bor. Why not throw the next flight open?”
“No!” And Orth echoed that vehement refusal with a roar.