Part 21 (1/2)
F'lar chucked appreciatively. ”I see we have been too weyrbound as well as too hidebound.”
Robinton drained his cup and looked at it mournfully until F'lar refilled it.
”Well, your isolation served some purpose, you know, and you handled that uprising of the Lords magnificently. I nearly choked to death laughing,” Robinton remarked, grinning broadly. ”Stealing their women in the flash of a dragon's breath!” He chuckled again, then suddenly sobered, looking F'lar straight in the eye. ”Accustomed as I am to hearing what a man does not not say aloud, I suspect there is much you glossed over in that Council meeting. You may be sure of my discretion ... and ... you may be sure of my wholehearted support and that of my not ineffectual craft. To be blunt, how may my harpers aid you?” and he strummed a vigorous marching air. ”Stir men's pulses with ballads of past glories and success?” The tune, under his flas.h.i.+ng fingers, changed abruptly to a stern but determined rhythm. ”Strengthen their mental and physical sinews for hards.h.i.+p?” say aloud, I suspect there is much you glossed over in that Council meeting. You may be sure of my discretion ... and ... you may be sure of my wholehearted support and that of my not ineffectual craft. To be blunt, how may my harpers aid you?” and he strummed a vigorous marching air. ”Stir men's pulses with ballads of past glories and success?” The tune, under his flas.h.i.+ng fingers, changed abruptly to a stern but determined rhythm. ”Strengthen their mental and physical sinews for hards.h.i.+p?”
”If all your harpers could stir men as you yourself do, I should have no worries that five hundred or so additional dragons would not immediately end.”
”Oh, then despite your brave words and marked charts, the situation is” - a dissonant tw.a.n.g on the guitar accented his final words - ”more desperate than you carefully did not say.”
”It may be.”
”The flamethrowers old Zurg remembered and Fandarel must reconstruct - will they tip the scales?”
F'lar regarded this clever man thoughtfully and made a quick decision.
”Even Igen's sandworms will help, but as the world turns and the Red Star nears, the interval between between daily attacks shortens and we have only seventy-two new dragons to add to those we had yesterday. One is now dead and several will not fly for several weeks.” daily attacks shortens and we have only seventy-two new dragons to add to those we had yesterday. One is now dead and several will not fly for several weeks.”
”Seventy-two?” Robinton caught him up sharply. ”Ramoth hatched but forty, and they are still too young to eat firestone.”
F'lar outlined F'nor and Lessa's expedition, taking place at that moment. He went on to F'nor's reappearance and warning, as well as the fact that the experiment had been successful in part with the hatching of thirty-two new dragons from Pridith's first clutch.
Robinton caught him up.
”How can F'nor already have returned when you haven't heard from Lessa and him that there is a breeding place on the Southern Continent?”
”Dragons can go between between times as well as places. They go as easily to a times as well as places. They go as easily to a when when as to a as to a where where.”
Robinton's eyes widened as he digested this astonis.h.i.+ng news.
”That is how we forestalled the attack on Nerat yesterday morning. We jumped back two hours between between time to meet the Threads as they fell.” time to meet the Threads as they fell.”
”You can actually jump backward? How far back?”
”I don't know. Lessa, when I was teaching her to fly Ramoth, inadvertently returned to Ruatha Hold, to the dawn thirteen Turns ago when Fax's men invaded from the heights. When she returned to the present, I attempted a between between times jump of some ten Turns. To the dragons it is a simple matter to go times jump of some ten Turns. To the dragons it is a simple matter to go between between times or s.p.a.ces, but there appears to be a terrific drain on the rider. Yesterday, by the time we returned from Nerat and had to go on to Keroon, I felt as though I had been pounded flat and left to dry for a summer on Igen Plain.” times or s.p.a.ces, but there appears to be a terrific drain on the rider. Yesterday, by the time we returned from Nerat and had to go on to Keroon, I felt as though I had been pounded flat and left to dry for a summer on Igen Plain.”
F'lar shook his head. ”We have obviously succeeded in sending Kylara, Pridith, and the others ten Turns between between, because F'nor has already reported to me that he has been there several Turns. The drain on humans, however, is becoming more and more marked. But even seventy-two more mature dragons will be a help.”
”Send a rider ahead in time to see if it is sufficient,” Robinton suggested helpfully. ”Save you a few days' worrying.”
”I don't know how to get to a when when that has not yet happened. You must give your dragon reference points, you know. How can you refer him to times that have not yet occurred?” that has not yet happened. You must give your dragon reference points, you know. How can you refer him to times that have not yet occurred?”
”You've got an imagination. Project it.”
”And perhaps lose a dragon when I have none to spare? No, I must continue ... because obviously I have, judging by F'nor's returns ... as I decided to start. Which reminds me, I must give orders to start packing. Then I shall go over the time-charts with you.”
It wasn't until after the noon meal, which Robinton took with the Weyrleader, that the Masterharper was confident that he understood the charts and left to begin their copying.
Across a waste of lonely tossing sea, Where no dragon-wings had lately spread, Flew a gold and a st.u.r.dy brown in spring Searching if a land be dead.
AS RAMOTH and Canth bore Lessa and F'nor up to the Star Stone, they saw the first of the Hold Lords and Craftmasters arriving for the Council.
In order to get back to the Southern Continent of ten Turns ago, Lessa and F'nor had decided it was easiest to transfer first between between times to the Weyr of ten Turns back which F'nor remembered. Then they would go times to the Weyr of ten Turns back which F'nor remembered. Then they would go between between places to a seapoint just off the coast of the neglected Southern Continent which was as close to it as the Records gave any references. places to a seapoint just off the coast of the neglected Southern Continent which was as close to it as the Records gave any references.
F'nor put Canth in mind of a particular day he remembered ten Turns back, and Ramoth picked up the references from the brown's mind. The awesome cold of between between times took Lessa's breath away, and it was with intense relief that she caught a glimpse of the normal weyr activity before the dragons took them times took Lessa's breath away, and it was with intense relief that she caught a glimpse of the normal weyr activity before the dragons took them between between places to hover over the turgid sea. places to hover over the turgid sea.
Beyond them, smudged purple on this overcast and gloomy day, lurked the Southern Continent. Lessa felt a new anxiety replace the uncertainty of the temporal displacement. Ramoth beat forward with great sweeps of her wings, making for the distant coast. Canth gallantly tried to maintain a matching speed.
He's only a brown, Lessa scolded her golden queen.
If he is flying with me, Ramoth replied coolly, Ramoth replied coolly, he must stretch his wings a little. he must stretch his wings a little.
Lessa grinned, thinking very privately that Ramoth was still piqued that she had not been able to fight with her weyrmates. All the males would have a hard time with her for a while.
They saw the flock of wherries first and realized that there would have to be some vegetation on the Continent. Wherries needed greens to live, although they could subsist on little else besides occasional grubs if necessary.
Lessa had Canth relay questions to his rider. If the Southern Continent was rendered barren by the Threads, how did new growth start? Where did the wherries come from? If the Southern Continent was rendered barren by the Threads, how did new growth start? Where did the wherries come from?
Ever notice the seed pods split open and the flakes carried away by the winds? Ever notice that wherries fly south after the autumn solstice?
Yes, but ...
Yes, but! But the land was Thread-bared! In less than four hundred Turns even the scorched hilltops of our Continent begin to sprout in the springtime, F'nor replied by way of Canth, F'nor replied by way of Canth, so it is easy to a.s.sume the Southern Continent could revive, too. so it is easy to a.s.sume the Southern Continent could revive, too.
Even at the pace Ramoth set, it took time to reach the jagged sh.o.r.eline with its forbidding cliffs, stark stone in the sullen light. Lessa groaned inwardly but urged Ramoth higher to see over the masking highlands. All seemed gray and desolate from that alt.i.tude. Suddenly the sun broke through the cloud cover and the gray dissolved into dense greens and browns, living colors, the live greens of lush tropical growth, the browns of vigorous trees and vines. Lessa's cry of triumph was echoed by F'nor's hurrah and the bra.s.s voices of the dragons. Wherries, startled by the unusual sound, rose in squeaking alarm from their perches.
Beyond the headland, the land sloped away to jungle and gra.s.sy plateau, similar to mid-Boll. Though they searched all morning, they found no hospitable cliffs wherein to found a new Weyr. Was that a contributing factor in the southern venture's failure, Lessa wondered.
Discouraged, they landed on a high plateau by a small lake. The weather was warm but not oppressive, and while F'nor and Lessa ate their noonday meal, the two dragons wallowed in the water, refres.h.i.+ng themselves.
Lessa felt uneasy and had little appet.i.te for the meat and bread. She noticed that F'nor was restless, too, shooting surrept.i.tious glances around the lake and the jungle verge.
”What under the sun are we expecting? Wherries don't charge, and wild whers would come nowhere near a dragon. We're ten Turns before the Red Star, so there can't be any Threads.”
F'nor shrugged, grimacing sheepishly as he tossed his unfinished bread back into the food pouch.
”Place feels so empty, I guess,” he tendered, glancing around. He spotted ripe fruit hanging from a moonflower vine. ”Now that looks familiar and good enough to eat, without tasting like dust in the mouth.”
He climbed nimbly and snagged the orange-red fruit.
”Smells right, feels ripe, looks ripe,” he announced and deftly sliced the fruit open. Grinning, he handed Lessa the first slice, carving another for himself. He lifted it challengingly. ”Let us eat and die together!”
She couldn't help but laugh and saluted him back. They bit into the succulent flesh simultaneously. Sweet juices dribbled from the comers of her mouth, and Lessa hurriedly licked her lips to capture the least drop of the delicious liquid.
”Die happy - I will,” F'nor cried, eating more fruit.
Both were subtly rea.s.sured by the experiment and were able to discuss their discomposure.
”I think,” F'nor suggested, ”it is the lack of cliff and cavern and the still, still quality of the place, the knowing that there are no other men or beasts about but us.”