The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [353]
“Surely Ramoth could touch Tiroth?”
F’lar shook his head. “Perhaps I should have said when.”
“When? D’ram’s timed it somewhere? I mean, somewhen?”
“That’s the only explanation. And we can’t see how he could possibly have gone back to his own Time. We don’t believe that Tiroth has that much strength in him. Timing it, as you know, is very draining on both dragon and rider. But D’ram has gone.”
“That’s not unexpected surely,” Robinton said slowly, his mind turning rapidly over the possibilities of when.
“No, not unexpected.”
“He wouldn’t have gone to the Southern Weyr?”
“No, because Ramoth would have no trouble locating him there. And G’dened went back quite a distance, before Threadfall, at Ista itself, thinking D’ram would stay where his memories are.”
“Lord Warbret offered D’ram any one of those caves on the south side of Ista Island. He seemed agreeable.”
Then as F’lar’s shrug negated that suggestion, the Harper added, “Yes, he was too agreeable.”
F’lar rose, striding restlessly about, turning back to the Harper. “Have you any ideas where the man could have gone? You were with him a great deal. Can you remember anything?”
“He wasn’t talking very much toward the end, just sat there holding Fanna’s hand.” Robinton found that he needed to swallow. As accustomed as he was to mortality, D’ram’s devotion to his Weyrwoman and his silent grief at her death had the power to bring tears to the Harper’s eyes. “I tendered offers of hospitality to him from Groghe and Sangel. In fact, I gather he could have gone anywhere on Pern and been welcome. Obviously he prefers the company of his memories. Might I ask if there is any reason to know where he is?”
“No reason other than our concern for him.”
“Oldive said that he was completely in possession of his reason, F’lar, if that’s your worry.”
F’lar made a grimace and impatiently stroked back a forelock which invariably fell into his eyes when he was agitated. “Frankly, Robinton, it’s Lessa. Ramoth can’t find Tiroth. Lessa’s certain he’s gone far enough back in time to suicide without giving us distress. It’s in D’ram’s nature to do so.”
“It is also his option,” Robinton said gently.
“I know. I know. And no one would fault him but Lessa is very worried. D’ram may have stepped down, Robinton, but his knowledge, his opinions are valuable and valued. Right now more than ever. Bluntly we need him . . . need him available to us.”
Robinton thought briefly about the possibility that D’ram had realized this and deliberately removed himself and Tiroth from easy access. But D’ram would serve Pern, and dragonfolk at any time.
“He perhaps needs time to recover from his grief, F’lar.”
“He was worn out with tending Fanna. You know that. He could also be sick and who would be there to help? We’re both worried.”
“I hesitate to suggest this, but has Brekke tried with the fire-lizards? Hers as well as those at Ista Weyr.”
A grin tugged at the worried line of F’lar’s mouth. “Oh, yes. She insisted. No luck. The fire-lizards need a direction to go between time just like dragons.”
“I didn’t exactly mean sending them. I mean, asking them to remember a lone bronze dragon.”
“Asking those creatures to remember?” F’lar laughed with incredulity.
“I’m serious, F’lar. They have good memories which can be triggered. For instance, how could the fire-lizards have known that the Red Star . . .” He was interrupted by a squeal of protest from Zair, who launched himself so quickly from Robinton’s shoulder that he scratched the Harper’s neck. “I will mention it in his presence!” Robinton said, ruefully patting the scratch. “My point is, F’lar, that the fire-lizards all knew that the Red Star was dangerous and could not be reached before F’nor and Canth tried to go there. If you can get a fire-lizard to make any sense when you mention the Red Star, they say they remember being afraid of it. They? Or their ancestors when our ancestors first attempted to go to it?”
F’lar gave the Masterharper a long searching stare.
“That isn’t the first memory of theirs that has proved