The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [343]
Why are you laughing? Ruth asked as they winged back to the Hold.
“Because I’m a fool, Ruth. I’m a fool.”
I don’t think you are. She makes you feel good, not a fool.
“That’s why I’m a fool now, silly dragon. I went up there expecting . . . expecting to feel good and she’s too busy. And only a few sevendays ago I wouldn’t have dreamed I’d be as lucky with her. That’s why I’m a fool now, Ruth.”
I will always love you, was Ruth’s reply because he felt that was the response Jaxom needed.
Jaxom reassuringly caressed his dragon’s neck ridge, but he couldn’t suppress his self-deprecatory mirth. He discovered a second obstacle when he returned to the Hold. Lytol informed him that the remainder of Ramoth’s clutch would probably Hatch the next day, and that Jaxom would have to put in an appearance at Benden. The Lord Warder peered intently at Jaxom’s healed score and nodded.
“Do try to keep out of the Weyrleaders’ sight. They’d know at a glance what that was,” Lytol said. “No sense advertising your folly.”
Jaxom privately thought the scar gave him a more mature appearance but he promised Lytol he’d stay well away from Lessa and F’lar.
Jaxom rather enjoyed Hatchings, more so when Lytol was not present. He felt guilty about that but he knew that, at each Hatching, painful memories of Lytol’s beloved Larth tortured the man.
News of the imminent Hatching came to Fort Weyr while Jaxom was flying wing tip in weyrling Fall practice. He finished the maneuver, begged the weyrlingmaster’s pardon and took Ruth between to Ruatha so that he could change into proper clothing. Lytol along with Menolly’s Rocky reached him at the same moment and requested that he collect Menolly, since Robinton was already at Ista Weyr with the Harperhall’s dragon and rider.
Jaxom put a good face on the request since he could think of no excuse to refuse. Well, he’d hurry her out of the Hall and into the Weyr so quickly that she wouldn’t have time to ask any questions.
When he and Ruth arrived at the Harpercrafthall, Ruth bellowing his name to the watchdragon on the fire-heights, Jaxom became furious. Why, there were enough Fort Weyr dragons on the meadow to take half the Hall. Why hadn’t she asked one of them? He was determined that she wouldn’t have a chance to nag at him and asked Ruth peremptorily to tell her fire-lizards that he was here and waiting in the meadow. He had barely formed the words in his mind when Menolly came dashing out of the archway toward him, Beauty, Rocky and Diver chittering in circles above her head. She began shrugging into her riding jacket, awkwardly juggling something from one hand to the other.
“Get down, Jaxom,” she ordered imperiously. “I can’t do it when your back’s to me.”
“Do what?”
“This!” She held up one hand to show him a small pot. “Get down.”
“Why?”
“Don’t be dense. You’re wasting time. This is to cover that scar. You don’t want Lessa and F’lar to see it, do you, and ask awkward questions? Come down! Or we’ll be late. And you’re not supposed to time it, are you?” She added the last comment as he still hesitated, not altogether reassured by her altruism.
“I’ve got my hair brushed over—”
“You’ll forget and push it back,” she said, gesturing him to do so now as she unscrewed the pot lid. “I got Oldive to make some without scent. There. Only takes a dab.” She had applied it to his face and then brushed the residue on the skin of his wrist above his glove. “See? It blends in.” She stared critically at him. “Yes, that does the trick. No one would ever know you’ve been scored.” Then she chuckled. “What does Corana think of your scar?”
“Corana?”
“Don’t glare at me. Get up on Ruth. We’ll be late. Very clever of you, Jaxom, to cultivate Corana. You’d’ve made a good harper with your wits.”
Jaxom mounted his dragon, furious with her but determined not to rise to her lure. It was just like her to find out such things, hoping to aggravate him. Well, she wasn’t going to succeed.