The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [356]
“D’ram would not wish to cause complications here,” Lytol said slowly. “He’d have gone to a time when the Oldtimers were not in the South. A jump back of ten-twelve Turns wouldn’t overtax Tiroth.”
“A point, Robinton, that might complicate matters,” F’lar said. “If these creatures can remember significant events that happened to their predecessors”—and F’lar was patently skeptical—“then none of the fire-lizards here could possibly have any recollections for our purpose. No ancestors from the area.” He indicated Zair. “He’s from that clutch Menolly brought up from below Half-Circle Sea Hold, isn’t he?”
“Fire-lizards from all over converge on Ruth,” Robinton said, looking to the young Lord for corroboration.
“F’lar has made a good point,” Jaxom said.
“Not if you go to that cove, Jaxom. I’m sure the fatal fascination fire-lizards all have for Ruth will operate even there.”
“You want me to go to the Southern Continent?”
Robinton noted the incredulity and sudden start of intense interest in Jaxom’s eyes. So, the boy had discovered that flying a fire-breathing dragon was not enough to keep him content with his life.
“I don’t want anyone to go South,” F’lar replied, “since that . . . is a breach of our agreement, but I can’t see any other way of locating D’ram.”
“The cove is a long way from the Southern Weyr,” Robinton said gently, “and we know the Oldtimers don’t venture far from it.”
“They ventured far enough from it a little while ago, didn’t they?” F’lar asked with considerable heat in his voice and an angry shine in his amber eyes.
Wearily Robinton saw that the breach between Harper Hall and Benden Weyr was only thinly healed.
“Lord Lytol,” the Benden Weyrleader continued, “I am remiss. May we have your permission to recruit Jaxom to this search?”
Lytol shook his head and gestured toward Jaxom. “It is entirely up to Lord Jaxom.”
Robinton could see F’lar digesting the implications of that referral, and he gave Jaxom a long keen look. Then he smiled. “And your answer, Lord Jaxom?”
With commendable poise, Robinton thought, the young man inclined his head. “I’m flattered to be asked to assist, Weyrleader.”
“You don’t happen to have any maps of the Southern Continent in this Hold, do you?” asked F’lar.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Then Jaxom added a hasty explanation. “Fandarel gave us several sessions of chart-making at his Hall.”
The charts were, however, incomplete. F’lar recognized them as copies of F’nor’s original explorations of the Southern Continent when the Benden wing-second had taken Ramoth’s first clutch back ten Turns to mature before Thread would fall again—an undertaking marked by partial success.
“I have more comprehensive maps of the coastline,” Robinton said casually and scribbled a note to Menolly which he attached to the clasp on Zair’s collar. He sent the little bronze back to the Harper Hold with an entreaty not to forget his errand.
“And he’ll bring the charts back directly?” F’lar asked, skeptical and somewhat contemptuous. “Brekke and F’nor keep trying to convince me of their usefulness, too.”
“I suspect with something as important as the charts, Menolly will wheedle the watchdragon into bringing her.” Robinton sighed, wishing he’d thought to insist she return the charts by fire-lizard. No opportunity should be wasted.
“How much timing it have you done, Jaxom?” F’lar asked suddenly.
A flush suffused Jaxom’s face. With a start, Robinton saw the thin line of scar white against the reddened cheek. Luckily that side of Jaxom’s face was turned away from the Weyrleader.
“Well, sir . . .”
“Come, lad, I don’t know any young dragonrider who hasn’t used the trick to be on time. What I want to establish is how accurate Ruth’s time sense is. Some dragons don’t have any at all.”
“Ruth always knows when