The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [351]
“Considering the bad odor of fire-lizards, I wonder anyone wants them,” the Fort Weyrleader remarked the next day when Jaxom told him his errand. “Or maybe that’s why there’s so many requests. Everyone is convinced no one else will want ’em, so they get in there now. No, I don’t have any. But I wanted to speak with you. Fort Weyr flies with the High Reaches Weyr tomorrow during the northernly Fall. If it were over Ruatha, I’d ask you to join the weyrling wing. As it is, I’d better not. Can you understand?”
Jaxom allowed that he could, but did N’ton mean that he would be able to fight Ruth the next time Thread was over Ruatha?
“I discussed it with Lytol.” N’ton grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Lytol’s reasoning is that you’d be so far above ground no Ruathan would realize his Lord Holder was risking his life and word wouldn’t get back to Benden.”
“I risk my life and limbs far more surely on the ground with that flamethrower crew.”
“Quite likely, but we still don’t want someone blurting the truth out to Lessa and F’lar. I’ve had a good report of you from K’nebel. Ruth is all you told me he could be—fast, clever and unusually quick in the air.” N’ton grinned again. “Between you and me, K’nebel says the little beast changes direction on his tail. His chief concern is that some of the others might get the notion that their dragons can do the same thing, and we’d have riders coming adrift.”
So the following morning, while the Weyr dealt with falling Thread, Jaxom hunted Ruth and then directed him to the lake for a good scrub and swim. While the fire-lizards were grooming Ruth’s neck ridges, Jaxom did a careful brushing of the scar on his leg.
Suddenly the white dragon whimpered. Apologetic, Jaxom looked around and noticed that the fire-lizards had suspended their labors. All the animals had their heads cocked, as if listening to something beyond Jaxom’s hearing.
“What’s the matter, Ruth?”
The woman dies.
“Take me back to the Hold, Ruth. Hurry.”
Jaxom gritted his teeth as his wet clothing froze against his body in the cold of between. Teeth chattering, Jaxom glanced toward the watchdragon on the lire-heights.
Strangely enough, the beast was indolent in the sun when he ought to be responding to the death.
Now she is not yet dying, Ruth said.
It took Jaxom a moment to realize that Ruth had acted on his own initiative and timed it to just before the fire-lizards’ alarm at the lake.
“We promised not to time it, Ruth.” Jaxom could appreciate the circumstances but he didn’t like the notion of going back on his word for any reason.
You promised. I did not. Lytol will need you in time.
Ruth landed Jaxom in the courtyard and the young Lord pelted up the stairs to the main Hall. He startled the drudge who was sweeping the dining hall with a demand to know Lytol’s whereabouts. The drudge thought Lord Lytol was with Master Brand. Jaxom knew that Brand kept wine in his office but he ducked into the serving hall, grabbed up a wineskin by its thong, swept two cups into his other hand and strode to the steps of the inner hall, which he took two at a time. Catching the heavy inner door with the point of his shoulder, he worked the latch with his right elbow and continued without much loss of forward speed down the corridor to Brand’s quarters.
Just as he threw open the door, Brand’s little blue fire-lizard struck the very listening pose that had alerted Jaxom at the lake.
“What’s the matter, Lord Jaxom?” Brand cried, rising to his feet. Lytol’s face showed his disapproval of such a mannerless entrance and he was about to speak when Jaxom pointed to the fire-lizard.
The blue suddenly sat back on his haunches, opened his wings and began the shrill high ululation that was the keening of the fire-lizards. As all color drained from Lytol’s face, the men heard