The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [64]
When he got his hands on that girl, he would tell her a thing or two . . . .
Mnementh informed him caustically that telling her a thing or two might be a very good idea. Much better than flying so vengefully after a pair who were only trying their wings out. Mnementh reminded his irate rider that, after all, the golden dragon had flown far and wide yesterday, having blooded four, but had not eaten since. She’d be neither capable of nor interested in any protracted flying until she had eaten fully. However, if F’lar insisted on this ill-considered and completely unnecessary pursuit, he might just antagonize Ramoth into jumping between to escape him.
The very thought of that untutored pair going between cooled F’lar instantly. Controlling himself, he realized that Mnementh’s judgment was more reliable than his at the moment. He’d let anger and anxiety influence his decisions, but . . .
Mnementh circled in to land at the Star Stone, the tip of Benden Peak being a fine vantage point from which F’lar could observe both the decamping army and the queen.
Mnementh’s great eyes gave the appearance of whirling as the dragon adjusted his vision to its farthest reach.
He reported to F’lar that Piyanth’s rider felt the dragons’ supervision of the retreat was causing hysteria among the men and beasts. Injuries were occurring in the resultant stampedes.
F’lar immediately ordered K’net to assume surveillance altitude until the army camped for the night. He was to keep close watch on the Nabolese contingent at all times, however.
Even as F’lar had Mnementh relay these orders, he realized his mind had dismissed the matter. All his attention was really on that high-flying pair.
You had better teach her to fly between, Mnementh remarked, one great eye shining directly over F’lar’s shoulder. She’s quick enough to figure it out for herself, and then where are we?
F’lar let the sharp retort die on his lips as he watched, breathless. Ramoth suddenly folded her wings, a golden streak diving through the sky. Effortlessly she pulled out at the critical point and soared upward again.
Mnementh deliberately called to mind their first wildly acrobatic flight. A tender smile crossed F’lar’s face, and suddenly he knew how much Lessa must have longed to fly, how bitter it must have been for her to watch the dragonets practice when she was forbidden to try.
Well, he was no R’gul, torn by indecision and doubt.
And she is no Jora, Mnementh reminded him pungently. I’m calling them in, the dragon added. Ramoth has turned a dull orange.
F’lar watched as the flyers obediently began a downward glide, the queen’s wings arching and curving as she slowed her tremendous forward speed. Unfed or not, she could fly!
He mounted Mnementh, waving them on, down toward the feeding grounds. He caught a fleeting glimpse of Lessa, her face vivid with elation and rebellion.
Ramoth landed, and Lessa dropped to the ground, gesturing the dragon on to eat.
The girl turned then, watching Mnementh glide in and hover to let F’lar dismount. She straightened her shoulders, her chin lifted belligerently as her slender body gathered itself to face his censure. Her behavior was like that of any weyrling, anticipating punishment and determined to endure it, soundless. She was not the least bit repentant!
Admiration for this indomitable personality replaced the last trace of F’lar’s anger. He smiled as he closed the distance between them.
Startled by his completely unexpected behavior, she took a half-step backward.
“Queens can, too, fly,” she blurted out, daring him.
His grin broadening to suffuse his face, he put his hands on her shoulders and gave her an affectionate shake.
“Of course they can fly,” he assured her, his voice full of pride and respect. “That’s why they have wings!”
PART III
Dust Fall
The Finger points
At an Eye blood-red.
Alert the Weyrs
To sear the Thread.
“You still doubt, R’gul?” F’lar asked, appearing slightly amused by