The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [95]
“But what could be going wrong?”
“I think I know and there is no remedy.” He sat down beside her, his eyes intent on hers. “Lessa, you were very upset when you got back from going between to Ruatha that first time. But I think now it was more than just the shock of seeing Fax’s men invading your own Hold or in thinking your return might have been responsible for that disaster. I think it has to do with being in two times at once.” He hesitated again, trying to understand this immense new concept even as he voiced it.
Lessa regarded him with such awe that he found himself laughing with embarrassment.
“It’s unnerving under any conditions,” he went on, “to think of returning and seeing a younger self.”
“That must be what he meant about Kylara,” Lessa gasped, “about her wanting to go back and watch herself . . . as a child. Oh, that wretched girl!” Lessa was filled with anger for Kylara’s self-absorption. “Wretched, selfish creature. She’ll ruin everything.”
“Not yet,” F’lar reminded her. “Look, although F’nor warned us that the situation in his time is getting desperate, he didn’t tell us how much he was able to accomplish. But you noticed that his scar had healed to invisibility—consequently some Turns must have elapsed. Even if Pridith lays only one good-sized clutch, even if just the forty of Ramoth’s are mature enough to fight in three days’ time, we have accomplished something. Therefore, Weyrwoman,” and he noticed how she straightened up at the sound of her title, “we must disregard F’nor’s return. When you fly to the Southern Continent tomorrow, make no allusion to it. Do you understand?”
Lessa nodded gravely and then gave a little sigh. “I don’t know if I’m happy or disappointed to realize, even before we get there tomorrow, that the Southern Continent obviously will support a Weyr,” she said with dismay. “It was kind of exciting to wonder.”
“Either way,” F’lar told her with a sardonic smile, “we have found only part of the answers to problems one and two.”
“Well, you’d better answer number four right now!” Lessa suggested. “Decisively!”
Weaver, Miner, Harper, Smith,
Tanner, Farmer, Herdsman, Lord,
Gather, wingsped, listen well
To the Weyrman’s urgent word.
They both managed to guard against any reference to his premature return when they spoke to F’nor the next morning. F’lar asked brown Canth to send his rider to the queen’s weyr as soon as he awoke and was pleased to see F’nor almost immediately. If the brown rider noticed the curiously intent stare Lessa gave his bandaged face, he gave no sign of it. As a matter of fact, the moment F’lar outlined the bold venture of scouting the Southern Continent with the possibility of starting a Weyr ten Turns back in time, F’nor forgot all about his wounds.
“I’ll go willingly only if you send T’bor along with Kylara. I’m not waiting till N’ton and his bronze are big enough to take her on. T’bor and she are as—” F’nor broke off with a grimace in Lessa’s direction. “Well, they’re as near a pair as can be. I don’t object to being . . . importuned, but there are limits to what a man is willing to do out of loyalty to dragonkind.”
F’lar barely managed to restrain the amusement he felt over F’nor’s reluctance. Kylara tried her wiles on every rider, and, because F’nor had not been amenable, she was determined to succeed with him.
“I hope two bronzes are enough. Pridith may have a mind of her own, come mating time.”
“You can’t turn a brown into a bronze!” F’nor exclaimed with such dismay that F’lar could no longer restrain himself.
“Oh, stop it!” And that touched off Lessa’s laughter. “You’re as bad a pair,” F’nor snapped, getting to his feet. “If we’re going south, Weyrwoman, we’d better get started. Particularly if we’re going