Sorenth says they came out of between into a patch that should not have been there. The Threads are not falling right, the bronze said. That is what happened to Relth and Tgor.
That didnt assuage Flars frustration for he knew Tgor and Rmel as good riders.
How could Thread fall northeast in the morning when it wasnt supposed to drop until evening and in the southwest? he wondered, savage with frustrated worry.
Automatically, Flar started to ask Mnementh to have Canth fly close in. But then he remembered that Fnor was wounded and half a planet away in Southern Weyr. Flar swore long and imaginatively, wishing Treb of Fort Weyr immured between with Weyrleader Tron fast beside him. Why did Fnor have to be absent at a time like this? It still rankled Flar deeply that Forts Weyrleader had tried to shift the blame of the fight from his very guilty rider to Terry. Of all the specious, contrived, ridiculous contentions for Tron to stand by!
Lamanth is flying well, the bronze dragon remarked, cutting into his riders thoughts.
Flar was so surprised at the unexpected diversion that he glanced down to see the young queen.
Were lucky to have so many to fly today, Flar said, amused despite his other concerns by the bronzes fatuous tone. Lamanth was the queen from Mnemenths second mating with Ramoth.
Ramoth flies well too, for one so soon from the Hatching Ground. Thirty-eight eggs and another queen, Mnementh added with no modesty.
Were going to have to do something about that third queen.
Mnementh rumbled about that. Ramoth disliked sharing the bronze dragons of her Weyr with too many queens, in spite of the fact that she would mate only with Mnementh. Many queens were the mark of virility in a bronze and it was natural for Mnementh to want to flaunt his prowess. Benden Weyr had to maintain more than one golden queen to placate the rest of the bronzes and to improve the breed in general, but three?
After the meeting the other night at Fort Weyr, Flar hesitated to suggest to any of the other Weyrleaders that hed be glad of a home for the new queen: Theyd probably contrive it to be bad management of Ramoth or coddling of Lessa. Still, Benden queens were bigger than Old-timer queens, just as modern bronzes were bigger, too. Maybe Rmart at Telgar Weyr wouldnt take offense. Or Gnarish? Flar couldnt think how many queens Gnarish had at Igen Weyr. He grinned to himself, thinking of the expression of Trons face when he heard Benden was giving away a queen dragon.
Bendens known for its generosity, but whats behind such a maneuver? Tron would say. Its not traditional.
But it was. There were precedents. Flar would far rather cope with Trons snide remarks than Ramoths temper. He glanced down, sighting the gleaming triangle of the queens wing, with Ramoth easily sweeping along, the younger beasts working hard to keep up with her.
Threads dropping out of pattern! Flar gritted his teeth. Worse, out of a pattern which hed so painstakingly researched from hundreds of disintegrating Record skins in his efforts seven Turns ago to prepare his ill-protected planet.
Patterns, Flar thought bitterly, which the Oldtimers had enthusiastically acclaimed and usedthough that was scarcely traditional. Just useful
Now how could Thread, which had no mind, no intelligence at all, deviate from patterns it had followed to the split second for over seven Turns? How could it change time and place overnight? The last Fall in Bendens Weyr jurisdiction had been on time and over upper Benden Hold as expected.
Could he possibly have misread the timetables? Flar thought back, but the carefully drawn maps were clear in his mind and, if he had made an error, Lessa would have caught it.
Hed check, double check, as soon as he returned to the Weyr. In the meantime, hed better make sure they had cleared the Fall from Edge to Edge. He directed Mnementh to find Asgenar, Lord Holder of Lemos.
Mnementh obediently turned out of the leisurely glide and dropped swiftly. Flar could thank good fortune that it was Lord Asgenar of Lemos to whom he must explain rather than Lord Sifer of Bitra Hold or Lord Raid of Benden Hold. The former would rant against the injustice and the latter would contrive to make a premature arrival of Thread a personal insult to him by dragonmen. Sometimes the Lords Raid and Sifer tried Flars patience. True, those three Holds, Benden, Bitra and Lemos, had conscientiously tithed to support Benden Weyr when it was the sole dragonweyr of Pern. But Lord Raid and Lord Sifer had an unpleasant habit of reminding Benden Weyr riders of their loyalty at every opportunity. Gratitude is an ill-fitting tunic that can chafe and smell if worn too long.
Lord Asgenar of Lemos Hold, on the other hand, was young and had been confirmed in his honors by the Lord Holders Conclave only five Turns ago. His attitude toward the Weyr which protected his Holdlands from Thread was refreshingly untainted by invidious reminders of past services.
Mnementh glided toward the expanse of the Great Lake which separated Lemos Hold from upper Telgar Hold. The Threads advance edge had just missed the verdant softwoods that surrounded the northern shores. Mnementh circled down, causing Flar to lean into the great neck, grasping the fighting straps firmly. Despite his weariness and worry, he felt the sharp surge of elation which always gripped him when he flew the huge bronze dragon; that curious merging of himself with the beast, against air and wind, so that he was not only Flar, Weyrleader of Benden, but somehow Mnementh. immensely powerful, magnificently free.
On a rise overlooking the broad meadow that swept down to the Great Lake, Flar spotted the green dragon. Lemos Lord Holder, Asgenar, would be near her. Flar smiled sardonically at the sight. Let the Oldtimers disapprove, let them mutter uneasily when Flar put non-weyrfolk on dragonback, but if Flar had not, Thread would have fallen unseen over those hardwoods.
Trees! Another bone of contention between Weyr and Hold, with Flar staunchly upholding the Lords position. Four hundred Turns ago, such timber stands had not existed, were not permitted to grow. Too much living green to protect. Well, the Oldtimers were eager enough to own products of wood, overloading Fandarels woodcraftsman, Bendarek, with their demands. On the other hand, they wouldnt permit the formation of a new Crafthall under Bendarek. Probably because, Flar thought bitterly, Bendarek wanted to stay near the hardwoods of Lemos, and that would give Benden Weyr a Crafthall in its jurisdiction. By the Egg, the Oldtimers were almost more trouble than they were worth!
Mnementh landed with sweeping backstrokes that flattened the thick meadow grass. Flar slid down the bronzes neck to join Lord Asgenar while Mnementh trumpeted approval to the green dragon and Frad, his rider.
Frad wants to warn you that Asgenar . . .
Not much gets through Bendens wings, Asgenar was saying by way of greeting so that Mnementh didnt finish his thought. The young man was wiping soot and sweat from his face for he was one Lord who directed his ground crews personally instead of staying comfortably in his main Hold. Even if Threads have begun to deviate. How do you account for all these recent variations?
Variations? Flar repeated the word, feeling stupid because he somehow realized that Asgenar was not referring just to this days unusual occurrence.
Yes! And here we thought your timetables were the last word. To be relied on forever, especially since they were checked and approved by the Oldtimers. Asgenar gave Flar a sly look. Oh, Im not faulting you, Flar. Youve always been open in our dealings. I count myself lucky to be weyrbound to you. A man knows where he stands with Benden Weyr. My brother-in-law elect? Lord Larad, has had problems with Tkul of the High Reaches Weyr, you know. And since those premature falls at Tillek and Upper Crom, hes got a thorough watch system set up. Asgenar paused, suddenly aware of Flars tense silence. I do not presume to criticize weyrfolk, Flar, he said in a more formal tone, but rumor can outfly a dragon and naturally I heard about the others. I can appreciate the Weyrs not wishing to alarm commoners butwella little forewarning would be only courteous.
There was no way of predicting todays fall, Flar said slowly, but his mind was turning so rapidly that he felt sick. Why had nothing been said to him? Rmart of Telgar Weyr hadnt been at the meeting about Trebs transgressions. Could Rmart have been busy fighting Thread at that time? As for Tkul of the High Reaches Weyr imparting any information, particularly news that might show him in a bad light, that one wouldnt give coordinates to save a riders life.
No, theyd have had good reason not to mention premature falls to Flar that night. If Tkul had confided in anyone. But why hadnt Rmart let them know?
But Benden Weyrs not caught sleeping. Once is all wed need in those forests, huh, Flar? Asgenar was saying, his eyes scanning the spongewoods possessively.
Yes. All wed need. Whats the report from the leading Edge of this Fall? Have you runners in yet?
Your queens wing reported it safe two hours past. Asgenar grinned and rocked back and forth on his heels, his confidence not a bit jarred by todays unpredicted event. Flar envied him.
Again the bronze rider thanked good fortune that he had Lord Asgenar to deal with this morning instead of punctilious Raid or suspicious Lord Sifer. He devoutly hoped that the young Lord Holder would not find his trust misplaced. But the question haunted him: how could Threads change so?
Both Weyrleader and Lord Holder froze as they watched a blue dragon hover attentively above a stand of trees to the northeast. When the beast flew on, Asgenar turned to Flar with troubled eyes.
Do you think these odd falls will mean that those forests must be razed?
You know my views on wood, Asgenar. Its too valuable a commodity, too versatile, to sacrifice needlessly.
But it takes every dragon to protect . . .
Are you for or against? Flar asked with mild amusement. He gripped Asgenars shoulder. Instruct your foresters to keep constant watch. Their vigilance is essential.
Then you dont know the pattern in the Thread shifts?
Flar shook his head slowly, unwilling to perjure himself to this man. Ill leave the long-eyed Frad with you.
A wide smile broke the thin troubled face of the Lord Holder.
I couldnt ask, but its a relief. I shant abuse the privilege.
Flar glanced at him sharply. Why should you?
Asgenar gave him a wry smile. Thats what the Oldtimers carp about, isnt it? And instant transportation to any place on Pern is a temptation.
Flar laughed, remembering that Asgenar, Lord of Lemos, was to take Famira, the youngest sister of Larad, Lord of Telgar Hold, to wife. While the Telgar lands marched the boundaries of Lemos, the Holds were separated by deep forest and several ranges of steep rocky mountains.
Three dragons appeared and circled above them, wingriders reporting on the ground activities. Nine infestations had been sighted and controlled with minimum loss of property. Sweepriders had reported that the mid-Fall area was clear. Flar dismissed them. A runner came loping up the meadow to his Lord Holder, carefully keeping several dragonlengths between himself and the two beasts. For all that every Pernese knew the dragons would harm no human, many would never lose their fearfulness. Dragons were confused by this distrust so that Flar strolled casually to his bronze and scratched the left eye ridge affectionately until Mnementh allowed one lid to droop in pleasure over the gleaming opalescent eye.
The runner had come from afar, managing to gasp out his reassuring message before he collapsed on the ground, his chest heaving with the effort to fill his starved lungs. Asgenar stripped off his tunic and covered the man to prevent his chilling and made the runner drink from his own flask
The two infestations on the south slope are char! Asgenar reported to the Weyrleader as he rejoined him. That means the hardwood stands are safe. Asgenars relief was so great that he took a swig on the bottle himself. Then hastily offered it to the dragonrider. When Flar politely refused, he went on, We may have another hard winter and my people will need that wood. Cromcoal costs!
Flar nodded. Free provision of fuelwood meant a tremendous saving to the average holder, though not every Lord saw it in this aspect. Lord Meron of Nabol Hold, for instance refused to let his commoners chop fuelwood, forcing them to pay the high rates for Cromcoal, increasing his profit at their expense.
That runner came from the south slope? Hes fast.
My forest men are the best in all Pern. Meron of Nabol has twice tried to lure that man from me.
And?
Lord Asgenar chuckled. Who trusts Meron? My man had heard tales of how that Lord treats his people. He seemed about to add another thought but cleared his throat instead, glancing nervously away as if catching a glimpse of something in the woods.
What all Pern needs is an efficient means of communication, remarked the dragonman, his eyes on the gasping runner.
Efficient? and Asgenar laughed aloud. Is all Pern infected with Fandarels disease?
Pern benefits by such an illness. Flar must contact the Mastersmith the moment he got back to the Weyr. Pern needed the genius of the giant Fandarel now more than ever.
Yes, but will we recover from the feverish urge for perfection? Asgenars smile faded as he added, in a deceptively casual fashion, Have you heard whether a decision has been reached about Bendareks guild?
None yet.
I do not insist that a Craftmasters Hall be sited in LemosAsgenar began, urgent and serious.
Flar held up his hand. Nor I, though I have trouble convincing others of my sincerity. Lemos Hold has the biggest stands of wood, Bendarek needs to be near his best source of supply, and he comes of Lemos!
Every single objection raised has been ridiculous, Asgenar replied, his gray eyes sparkling with anger. You know as well as I that a Craftmaster owes no allegiance to a Lord Holder. Bendareks as unprejudiced as Fandarel as far as loyalty to anything but his craft is concerned. All the man thinks of is wood and pulp and those new leaves or sheets or what-you-ma-callums hes mucking about with.
I know. I know, Asgenar. Larad of Telgar Hold and Corman of Keroon Hold side with you or so theyve assured me.
When the Lord Holders meet in Conclave at Telgar Hold, Im going to speak out. Lord Raid and Sifer will back me, if only because were weyrbound.
It isnt the Lords or Weyrleaders who must make this decision, Flar reminded the resolute young Lord. Its the other Craftmasters. Thats been my thought since Fandarel first proposed a new craft designation.
Then whats holding matters up? All the Mastercraftsmen will be at the wedding at Telgar Hold. Lets settle it once and for all and let Bendarek alone. Asgenar threw his arms wide with frustration. We need Bendarek settled, we need what hes been producing and he cant keep his mind on important work with all this shifting and shouting.
Any proposal that smacks of change right now, (especially now, Flar added to himself, thinking of this Threadfall.) is going to alarm certain Weyrleaders and Lord Holders. Sometimes I think that only the Crafts constantly look for change, are interested and flexible enough to judge what is improvement or progressive. The Lord Holders and theFlar broke off.
Fortunately another runner was approaching from the north, his legs pumping strongly. He came straight past the green dragon, right up to his Lord.
Sir, the northern section is clear. Three burrows have been burned out. All is secure.
Good man. Well run.
The man, flushed with praise and effort, saluted the Weyrleader and his Lord. Then, breathing deeply but without labor, he strode over to the prone messenger and began massaging his legs.
Asgenar smiled at Flar. Theres no point in our rehearsing arguments. We are basically in agreement. If we could just make those others see!
Mnementh rumbled that the wings were reporting an all-clear. He so pointedly extended his foreleg that Asgenar laughed.
That does it, he said. Any idea how soon before we have another Fall?
Flar shook his head. Frad is here. You ought to have seven days free. Youll hear from me as soon as weve definite news.
Youll be at Telgar in six days, wont you?
Or Lessa will have my ears!
My regards to your lady.
Mnementh bore him upward in an elliptical course that allowed them to make one final check of the forest lands. Wisps of smoke curled to the north and farther to the east, but Mnementh seemed unconcerned. Flar told him to go between. The utter cold of that dimension painfully irritated the Thread scores on his face. Then they were above Benden Weyr. Mnementh trumpeted his return and hung, all but motionless, until he heard the booming response of Ramoth. At that instant, Lessa appeared on the ledge of the weyr, her slight stature diminished still further by distance. As Mnementh glided in, she descended the long flight of stairs in much the same headlong fashion for which they criticized their weyrling son, Felessan.
Reprimands were not likely to break Lessa of that habit either, thought Flar. Then he noticed what Lessa had in her hands and rounded angrily on Mnementh. Im barely touched and you babble on me like a weyrling!
Mnementh was not the least bit abashed as he backwinged to land lightly by the Feeding Ground. Thread hurts.
I dont want Lessa upset over nothing!
I dont want Ramoth angry over anything!
Flar slid from the bronzes neck, concealing the twinges he felt as the gritty wind from the Feeding Grounds aggravated the cold-seared lacerations. This was one of those times when the double bond between riders and dragons became a serious disadvantage. Particularly when Mnementh took the initiative, not generally a draconic characteristic.
Mnementh gave an awkward half jump upward, clearing the way for Lessa. She hadnt changed from wher-hide riding clothes and looked younger than any Weyrwoman ought as she ran towards them, her plaited hair bouncing behind her. Although neither motherhood nor seven turns of security had added flesh to her small-boned body, there was a subtle roundness to breast and hip, and that certain look in her great gray eyes that Flar knew was for him alone.
And you complain about the timing of other riders, she said, gasping, as she came to an abrupt stop at his side. Before he could protest the insignificance of his injuries, she was smearing numbweed on the burns. Ill have to wash them once the feelings gone. Cant you duck ash yet? Virianth will be all right but Sorenth and Relth took awful lacings. I do wish that glass craftsman of FandarelsWansors his name, isnt it?would complete those eyeguards hes been blathering about. Manora thinks she can save Pratans good looks but well have to wait and see about his eye. She paused to take a deep breath. Which is just as well because if he doesnt stop raiding Holds for new lovers, we wont be able to foster all the babies. Those holdbred girls are convinced its evil to abort. She stopped short, set her lips in the thin line which Flar had finally catalogued as Lessa veering away from a painful subject.
Lessa! No, dont look away. He forced her head up so she had to meet his eyes. She who couldnt conceive must find it hard, too, to help terminate unwanted pregnancies. Would she never stop yearning for another child? How could she forget she had nearly died with Felessan? Hed been relieved that she had never quickened again. The thought of losing Lessa was not even to be thought. Riding between so much makes it impossible for a Weyrwoman to carry to term.
It doesnt seem to affect Kylara, Lessa said with bitter resentment. She had turned away, watching Mnementh rend a fat buck with such an intense expression in her eyes that Flar had no difficulty guessing that shed prefer Kylara thus rendered.
That one! Flar said with a sharp laugh. Dear heart, if you must model yourself after Kylara to bear children Weyrwoman, I prefer you barren!
Weve more important things to discuss than her, Lessa said, turning to him in a complete change of mood. What did Lord Asgenar say about the Threadfall? Id have joined you in the meadow, but Ramoths got the notion she cant leave her clutch without someone spying on them. Oh, I sent messengers out to the other Weyrs to tell them whats happened here. They ought to know and be on their guard.
It wouldve been courteous of them to have apprised us first, Flar said so angrily that Lessa glanced up at him startled. He told her then what the Lemos Lord Holder had said on the mountain meadow.
And Asgenar assumed that we all knew? That it was simply a matter of changing the timetables? Shock faded from her face and her eyes narrowed, flashing with indignation. I would I had never gone back to get those Old-timers. Youd have figured out a way for us to cope.
You give me entirely too much credit, love. He hugged her for her loyalty. However, the Oldtimers are here and weve got to deal with them.
Indeed we will. Well bring them up to date if . . .
Lessa, and Flar gave her a little shake, his pessimism dispersed by the vehemence of her response and the transparency of her rapid calculations on how to bring about such changes. You cant change a watch-wher into a dragon, my love . . .
Whod want to? demanded Mnementh from the Feeding Ground, his appetite sated.
The bronze dragons tart observation elicited a giggle from Lessa. Flar hugged her gratefully.
Well, its nothing we cant cope with, she said firmly, allowing him to tuck her under his shoulder as they walked back to the weyr. And its nothing I dont expect from that Tkul of the ever-so-superior High Reaches. But Rmart of Telgar Weyr?
How long have the messengers been gone?
Lessa frowned up at the bright midmorning sky. Only just. I wanted to get any last details from the Sweepriders.
Im as hungry as Mnementh. Feed me, woman.
The bronze dragon had glided up to the ledge to settle in his accustomed spot just as a commotion started in the tunnel. He extended his wings to flight position, neck craned toward the one land entrance to the dragonweyr.
Its the wine train from Benden, silly, Lessa told him, chuckling as Mnementh gave voice to a loud brassy grumble and began to arrange himself again, completely disinterested in wine trains Now dont tell Robinton the new wines in, Flar. It has to settle first, you know.
And why would I be telling Robinton anything? Flar demanded, wondering how Lessa knew that he had only just started to think of the Masterharper himself.
There has never been a crisis before us when you havent sent for the Masterharper and the Mastersmith. She sighed deeply. If we only had such cooperation from our own kind. Her body went rigid under his arm. Here comes Fidranth and he says that Trons very agitated.
Trons agitated? Flars anger welled up instantly.
Thats what I said, Lessa replied, freeing herself and taking the steps two at a time. Ill order you food. She halted abruptly, turning to say over her shoulder, Keep your temper. I suspect Tkul never told anyone. Hes never forgiven Tron for talking him into coming forward, you know.
Flar waited beside Mnementh as Fidranth circled smartly into the weyr. From the Hatching Cavern came Ramoths crotchety challenge. Mnementh answered her soothingly that the intruder was only Fidranth and no threat. At least not to her clutch. Then the bronze rolled one scintillating eye toward his rider. The exchange, so like one between himself and Lessa, drained anger from Flar. Which was as well, for Trons opening remarks were scarcely diplomatic.
I found it! I found what you forgot to incorporate in those so-called infallible timetables of yours!
Youve found what, Tron? Flar asked, tightly controlling his temper. If Tron had found anything that would be of help, he could not antagonize the man.
Mnementh had courteously stepped aside to permit Fidranth landing room, but with two huge bronze bodies there was so little space that Tron slid in front of the Benden Weyrleader, waving a portion of a Record hide right under his nose.
Heres proof your timetables didnt include every scrap of information from our Records!
Youve never questioned them before, Tron, Flar reminded the exercised man, speaking evenly.
Dont hedge with me, Flar. You just sent a messenger with word that Thread was falling out of pattern.
And Id have appreciated knowing that Thread had fallen out of pattern over Tillek and High Crom in the past few days!
The look of shock and horror on Trons face was too genuine to be faked.
Youd do better to listen to what commoners say, Tron, instead of immuring yourself in the Weyr, Flar told him. Asgenar knew of it yet neither Tkul nor Rmar thought to tell the other Weyrs, so we could prepare and keep watch. Just luck I had Frad . . .
Youve not been housing dragonmen in the Holds again?
I always send a messenger on ahead the day of a Fall. If I didnt follow the practice, Asgenars forest lands would be gone by now.
Flar regretted that heated reference. It would give Tron the wedge he needed for another of his diatribes about over forestration. To divert him, Flar reached for the piece of Record, but Tron twitched it out of his grasp.
Youll have to take my word for it . . .
Have I ever questioned your word, Tron? Those words, too, were out before Flar could censor them. He could and did keep his face expressionless, hoping Tron would not read in it an additional allusion to that meeting. I can see that the Records badly eroded, but if youve deciphered it and it bears on this mornings unpredicted shift, well all be in your debt.
Flar? Lessas voice rang down the corridor. Where are your manners? The klahs cooling and it is predawn Trons time.
Id appreciate a cup, Tron admitted, as obviously relieved as Flar by the interruption.
I apologize for rousing you . . .
I need none, not with this news.
Unaccountably Flar was relieved to realize that Tron had obviously not known of Threadfall. He had come charging in here, delighted at an opportunity to put Flar and Benden in the wrong. Hed not have been so quickwitness his evasiveness and contradictions over the belt-knife fightif hed known.
When the two men entered the queens weyr, Lessa was gowned, her hair loosely held by an intricate net, and seated gracefully at the table. Just as if she hadnt ridden hard all morning and been suited five minutes before.
So Lessa was all set to charm Tron again, huh? Despite the unsettling events, Flar was amused. Still, he wasnt certain that this ploy would lessen Trons antagonism. He didnt know what truth there was in a rumor that Tron and Mardra were not on very good terms for a Weyrwoman and Weyrleader.
Wheres Ramoth? Tron asked, as he passed the queens empty weyr.
On the Hatching Ground, of course, slobbering over her latest clutch. Lessa replied with just the right amount of indifference .
But Tron frowned, undoubtedly reminded that there was another queen egg on Bendens warm sands and that the Oldtimers queens laid few gold eggs.
I do apologize for starting your day so early, she went on, deftly serving him a neatly sectioned fruit and fixing klah to his taste But we need your advice and help.
Tron grunted his thanks, carefully placing the Record hide side down on the table.
Threadfall could come when it would if we didnt have all those blasted forests to care for, Tron said, glaring at Flar through the steam of the klah as he lifted his mug.
What? And do without wood? Lessa complained, rubbing her hands on the carved chair which Bendarek had made with his consummate artistry. Those stone chairs may fit you and Mardra, she said in a sweet insinuating voice, but I had a cold rear end all the time.
Tron snorted with amusement, his eyes wandering over the dainty Weyrwoman in such a way that Lessa leaned forward abruptly and tapped the Record.
I ought not to take your valuable time with chatter. Have you discovered something here which we missed?
Flar ground his teeth. He hadnt overlooked a single legible word in those moldy Records, so how could she imply negligence so casually?
He forgave her when Tron responded by flipping over the hide. The skin is badly preserved, of course, and he made it sound as if Bendens wardship were at fault, not the depredations of four hundred Turns of abandonment, but when you sent that weyrling with this news, I happened to remember seeing a reference to a Pass where all previous Records were no help. One reason we never bothered with timetable nonsense.