The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [418]
“Well, hmmm. Trouble is, you bring up a fair of young ‘uns to know how to hold proper and that’s what they want to do. Hold! Terrible fights they get into. Terrible quarrels. Fostering ’em don’t help much. Just got to foster others and they quarrel and fight. Scorch it! They all need holds of their own.” Lord Groghe banged his fist on the table emphasizing this point. “I can’t split my land more’n it is and I’m Holding every square length that isn’t bare rock. Can’t put out men who’re beholden to me as their fathers and grandfathers and greats were? That’s not proper Holding on my side. And I won’t turn ’em out to please my kin. Not that it would.
“Thing of it is, while the Oldtimers were south, wouldn’t have dreamed of suggesting it. But they aren’t in command anymore. D’ram is and he’s F’lar’s man and he’ll make it a proper Weyr so there could be more holdings, couldn’t there?”
Lord Groghe glanced from Harper to Weyrleader, daring them to contradict him. “There’s plenty of unheld land in the South, isn’t there? No one really knows how much. But I heard Masterfisherman Idarolan say one of his ships cruised for days along a coastline. Hmmm yes, well.” Then he started to chuckle, a mirth that increased into a wheeze that shook the large well-fleshed frame of the Lord Holder. He was reduced to speechlessness and impotently pointed his thick forefinger first at one and then the other, trying to indicate something by gesture which his laughter kept him from explaining by word.
Helplessly, N’ton and Sebell exchanged grins and shrugs, unable to perceive what amused Lord Groghe or what he wanted to convey to them. The monumental mirth subsided, leaving Lord Groghe weak to the point of wiping tears from his eyes.
“Well trained! That’s what you pair are! Well trained!” he gasped, pounding his chest with his fist to stop his wheezing. He coughed long and then, as abruptly as the laughter had seized him, he turned solemn. “Can’t fault either of you. Won’t. Shouldn’t give up Weyr secrets easily anyhow. Appreciate that. Do me one favor. Tell F’lar. Remind him that it’s better to attack than defend. Not but what he doesn’t already know that! I think,” Lord Groghe stabbed at his chest with his thumb, “he’d better be prepared . . . soon. Trouble is, everyone in Pern knows that the Masterharper is going south to get well. Everyone wishes Master Robinton the best of luck. Yet everyone is beginning to wonder about that Southern Continent now it’s not closed anymore.”
“Southern is too big to be adequately protected against Thread which still falls there,” N’ton said.
Lord Groghe nodded, mumbling that he was aware of that. “Point is, people know you can live without hold and survive Threadfall!” The Lord Holder’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at Sebell. “That Menolly girl of yours did it! Hear tell Toric in Southern got little help from those Oldtimers during Falls.”
“Tell me, Lord Groghe,” Sebell asked in his quiet way, “have you ever been out in Fall?”
Lord Groghe shuddered a bit. “Once. Ohhh, well, yes, I take your point, Harper. I take your point. Still, one way to separate boys from men!” He gave a sharp nod of his head. “That’s my notion. Separate boys from men!” He gazed up at N’ton, a sly look in his eyes though his expression continued bland. “Or don’t the Weyrs want the boys separated?”
N’ton laughed, to the Lord’s surprise. “It’s time we separated more than the boys, Lord Groghe.”
“Huh?”
“We will convey your message to F’lar today.” The Fort Weyrleader raised his cup to the Lord Holder as a seal on that promise.