The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [249]
“Then shall I inform T’bor of the High Reaches Weyr that his wings need no longer patrol Nabol? I’m certain he would be relieved,” Lessa asked in her lightest, sweetest voice.
The Nabolese Lord gave her a look of pure hatred. The fire lizard gathered itself into a hissing launch position. A single clear note from Ramoth all but deafened those on the heights. The fire lizard disappeared with a shriek. Strangling on his curses, Meson stamped down the lighted path to the landing, calling harshly for his dragon. The green appeared with such alacrity that Lessa was certain Ramoth had summoned him, even as she had warned the little lizard against attacking Lessa.
“You wouldn’t order T’bor to stop patrolling Nabol, would you, Weyrwoman?” asked Nessel, Lord of Crom. “After all, my lands march with his . . .”
“Lord Nessel,” Lessa began, intending to reassure him that she had no such authority in the first place and in the second . . . “Lord Nessel,” she repeated instead, smiling at him, “you notice that the Lord of Nabol did not request it, after all. Though,” and the sighed with dramatic dedication. “we have been sorely tempted to penalize him for his part in the death of the two dragon queens.” She gave Nessel a wan, brave smile. “But there are hundreds of innocent people on his lands, and many more about him, who cannot be permitted to suffer because of his—his—how shall I phrase it—his turn behavior.”
“Which leads me to ask,” Groghe said, hastily clearing his throat. “what is being done with that—that Kylara woman?”
“Nothing,” Lessa said in a flat hard voice, trusting that would end the matter.
“Nothing?” Groghe was incensed. “She caused the death of two queens and you’re doing nothing . . .”
“Are the Lord Holders doing anything about Meson?” she asked, glancing sternly at the four present. There was a long silence. “I must return to Benden Weyr. The dawn and another day’s watch come all too soon there. We’re keeping Wansor Fandarel from the observations that will make it possible for us to go to that Star.”
“Before they monopolize the thing, I’d like another look,” Oterel of Tillek said loudly. “My eyes are keen . . .”
Lessa was tired as she called Ramoth to her. She wanted go back to Benden Weyr, not so much to sleep as to Benden herself about F’lar. Mnementh was with him, true, and he’d have reported any change in his rider’s condition . . .
And I’d’ve told you Ramoth said, sounding a little
“Lessa,” the Harper’s low voice reached her, “are you in favor of that expedition?”
She looked up at him, his face lighted by the path glows. His expression was neutral and she wondered if he’d really meant what he’d said back at the Star Rocks. He disabled so easily, and so often against his own inclination, that she sometimes wondered what his candid thoughts were.
“It scares me. It scares me because it seems so likely that must someone must have tried. Sometime. It just doesn’t seem logical . . .”
“Is there any record that anyone, besides yourself, ever jumped so far between times?”
“No.” She had to admit it. “Not so far. But then, there hadn’t been such need.”
“And there’s no need now to take this other kind of a jump?”
“Don’t unsettle me more.” Lessa was unsure of what she felt or thought, or what anyone felt or thought, should or shouldn’t do. Then she saw the kind, worried expression of the Harper’s eyes and impulsively gripped his arm. “How can we know? How can we be sure?”
“How were you sure that the Question Song could be answered—by you?”
“And you’ve a new Question Song for me?”
“Questions, yes.” He gave her a smile as he covered her hand gently with his own. “Answer?” He shook his head and then stepped back as Ramoth alighted.
But his questions were as difficult to forget as the