The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [305]
“Deelan said you’d gone off without this,” N’ton said and tossed the jacket at Jaxom. “Well, I suppose you don’t feel the cold the way my old bones do. Or are you practicing survival tactics?”
“Ah, N’ton, not you, too!”
“Me, too, what, young fella?”
“You know . . .”
“No, I don’t know.” N’ton gave Jaxom a closer look. “Or did Deelan’s babbling this morning have real significance?”
“You didn’t see Lytol?”
“No. I just asked the first person in the Hold where you were. Deelan was weeping because you’d gone off without your jacket.” N’ton drolly pulled down his lower lip in a trembling imitation of Deelan. “Can’t stand weeping women—at least women that age—so I grabbed the jacket, promised on the shell of my dragon to force it about your frail body, sent Tris to see where Ruth was and here we are. Tell me, did something momentous happen this morning? Ruth looks fine.”
Embarrassed, Jaxom looked away from the quizzical regard of the Fort Weyrleader and gave himself a bit more time by shrugging into his jacket.
“I told the entire Hold off this morning.”
“I told Lytol it wouldn’t be long now.”
“What?”
“What tipped the scales? Deelan’s blubbering?”
“Ruth is a dragon!”
“Of course he is,” N’ton replied with such emphasis that Lioth turned his head to regard them. “Who says he’s not?”
“They do. At Ruatha. Everywhere! They say he’s nothing but an overgrown fire-lizard. And you know that’s been said.”
Lioth hissed. Tris took wing in surprise, but Ruth warbled complacently and the others settled.
“I know it’s been said,” N’ton replied, taking hold of Jaxom’s shoulders. “But there isn’t a dragonrider I know who hasn’t corrected the speaker—somewhat forcefully on occasion.”
“If you consider him a dragon, why can’t he act like one?”
“He does!” N’ton gave Ruth a long look as if the creature had somehow changed in the last moment.
“I mean like other full fighting dragons.”
“Oh.” N’ton grimaced. “So that’s it. Look, lad . . .”
“It’s Lytol, isn’t it? He’s told you not to let me fight Thread on Ruth. That’s why you’ll never let me teach Ruth how to chew firestone.”
“It’s not that, Jaxom . . .”
“Then what is it? There isn’t a place on Pern we can’t get to, first time, right on. Ruth’s small but he’s faster, turns quicker midair, less mass to move—”
“It’s not a question of ability, Jaxom,” N’ton said, raising his voice slightly to make Jaxom hear what he had to say, “it’s a matter of what is advisable.”
“More evasions.”
“No!” N’ton’s firm negative cut through Jaxom’s resentment. “Flying with a fighting wing during Threadfall is bloody dangerous, lad. I’m not impugning your courage, but bluntly, however keen you are, however quick and clever Ruth is, you’d be a liability to a fighting wing. You haven’t the training, the discipline . . .”
“If it’s only training—”
N’ton grabbed Jaxom by the shoulders to stop his contentiousness.
“It isn’t.” N’ton drew a deep breath. “I said it’s not a question of Ruth’s abilities or yours; it is solely a question of advisability. Pern can’t afford to lose either you, young Lord of Ruatha, or Ruth, who is unique.”
“But I’m not Lord of Ruatha either. Not yet! Lytol is. He makes all the decisions . . . I just listen, and nod my head like a sunstruck wherry.” Jaxom faltered, aware he was implying criticism of Lytol. “I mean, I know Lytol has to manage until the Lord Holders confirm me . . . and I don’t really want Lytol to leave Ruatha Hold. But if I could be a dragonrider, it wouldn’t come to that. You see?”
As Jaxom caught the expression in N’ton’s eyes, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “You see, but the answer’s still no! It would just make different ripples, probably bigger ones, wouldn’t it? So I’ve got to muck on as something in between everything. Not a real Lord Holder, not a real dragonrider . . . not a real anything except a problem. A real problem to everybody!”
Not to me, Ruth said clearly and reassuringly touched his rider with his muzzle.
“You’re not a problem,