Anne McCaffrey - The White Dragon

As he worked, he tried to figure out why it had so pleased the Weyrleaders and Master Robinton. To be sure, it was a gift to know the extent of Southern without having to walk it all.

Was that it? Of course. Toric didn't know how large the Southern Continent was! And now the Weyrleaders did. Jaxom regarded the Hold peninsula, estimating how much Toric and his holdless men had managed to explore. Never could Toric, even with his Hold swollen by younger sons from every Hold and cothold in Northern Pern, explore this vast continent. Why, even if he tried to Hold as far as the Western Range in the south, to the Great Bay in the west… Jaxom smiled, so pleased with his deduction that he nearly smeared the line he was drawing. Should he mark in the Great Bay as they now knew it, or copy the old map faithfully? Yes, it was this one that mattered. And when Toric finally saw it… Jaxom chuckled, imagining with intense pleasure the chagrin which Toric would feel at first sight.

«I KNOW WHAT was originally conceded to Toric,' Robinton was saying to the Benden Weyrleaders as they sat drinking klah at Cove Hold.

«To Hold what he had acquired when the Oldtimers left the Southern Weyr,» F'lar amended. «The purist would argue that, as the Oldtimers have not indeed all passed between, Toric may continue to extend his Holding.»

«Or secure the loyalty of others in Holding?» Robinton remarked.

Lessa stared at him, absorbing his meaning. «Was that why he was amenable to settling so many holdless men?» She looked indignant for a moment and then laughed. «Toric is a man we shall have to watch these next Turns. I'd no idea he'd prove so ambitious.»

«Farsighted, too,» Robinton said in a dry tone. «He achieves as much by gratitude as by possession.»

«Gratitude has a tendency to sour,» F'lar said.

«He's not fool enough to rely on that alone,» Lessa said with a rueful expression then looked about her, puzzled. «Did I see Sharra at all this morning?»

«No, a rider collected her last evening. There's illness at oh!» The Harper's eyes widened to emphasize his surprised dismay. «Now there's no fool like an old one. It never occurred to me to doubt that message. Yes, he'd use Sharra, and his other sisters. He has several daughters as well to bind men to him. Jaxom will react to this situation, I think.»

«I hope so,» Lessa said with some asperity. «I rather approve of Sharra as a match. If this is not a simple case of his being grateful for her nursing…» She clucked her tongue at the mention of gratitude.

Robinton laughed. «Brekke feels, and so does Menolly, that the attachment is sincere on both sides. I'm delighted you agree. I've been daily hoping he would ask me to officiate. Especially in view of today's reflections. By the way, only it isn't exactly by the way but to our point, Jaxom went back to Ruatha Hold last evening. He approached Lytol on the subject of his confirmation as Lord Holder.»

«Did he?» F'lar was as pleased as his weyrmate. «Prompted by Sharra? Or by Toric's not too subtle jibing yesterday?»

«I missed far too much not being permitted to go to the Plateau yesterday,» the Harper said irritably. «What jibing?»

The bugling of Ramoth and Mnementh outside effectively prevented further discussion.

«N'ton's here, with Master Nicat and Wansor,» F'lar said. He turned to Robinton and Lessa as he rose. «Shall we just let matters proceed naturally?»

«That's usually best,» Robinton said.

Lessa smiled cryptically as she strode toward the door.

N'ton had brought three journeymen miners as well as their Master. F'nor arrived immediately thereafter with Wansor, Benelek and two young apprentices apparently chosen for their generous size. Without waiting for Toric to appear with D'ram, they all went between to the Plateau, landing as close to Nicat's little mound as possible. Daylight provided the answer to its function numerals and letters paraded as design across the far end, and rather fascinating animals, large and small and bearing no resemblance to anything walking Pern's surface, marched across the two long walls.

«A harper's room, for the very young learning first Teaching Songs and Ballads,» the Harper said, not nearly as disappointed as the others since the building applied to his Craft.

«Well, then,» Benelek added and, turning on his heel, pointed to the mound immediately on the left. «This is where the advanced students would be. If, of course,» he sounded dubious, «the ancients followed a logical sequence and progressed to the right in any circular formation.» He executed a curt bow to the Weyrleaders and the three Craftmasters and, gesturing to one of the apprentices, marched decisively out, picked a shovel from the pile and proceeded to cut the grass from the inner end of the chosen mound.

Lessa, waiting until Benelek was out of hearing, gave way to laughter. «And if the ancients disappoint him, will he bother with any more mysteries?»

«It's time to unearth my large mound today,» F'lar said, trying to imitate Benelek's decisiveness as he gestured the others to pick up tools and join him.

Bearing in mind that the entrances tended to be on the short ends, they abandoned F'lar's original trench on the roof. Ramoth and Mnementh obligingly shifted enormous mounds of the curious gray black soil from the center of the end. The entrance was shortly revealed as a door, large enough to admit a green dragon, sliding on rails; a smaller opening pierced one comer. «Man size,» F'lar said. It opened on hinges that were not of metal, a fact which delighted and puzzled Masters Nicat and Fandarel. Just as they opened the small door, Jaxom and Ruth arrived. No sooner had they landed on the mound's top, than three more dragons burst into the air.

«D'ram,» Lessa said, «and two Benden browns that went south to help.»

«Sorry to take so long, Master Robinton,» Jaxom said, handing the Harper a neat roll as if it were of no moment. «Good morning, Lessa. What was in Nicat's building?»

The Harper tucked the roll carefully in his belt pouch, pleased with Jaxom's dissembling. «A children's hall. Go take a look.»

«Could I have a word with you, Master Robinton? Unless…» Jaxom waved his hands toward the mound and the little door hanging so invitingly open.

«I can wait until the air is cleared out,» Robinton said, having noticed the tense look in Jaxom's eyes and his air of polite entreaty. He moved with the young man to one side of the others. «Yes?»

«Sharra is being restrained at Southern by her brother,» Jaxom said in a low voice that did not reveal his agitation.

«However did you find that out?» Robinton asked, glancing up at the circling bronze that bore the Southerner.

«She told Ruth. Toric has plans for her to marry one of his new holders. He considers the Northern lordlings useless!» There was a dangerous glint in Jaxom's eyes and a sternness to his features which, for the first time since Robinton had known the lad, gave him the look of his father. Fax, a resemblance which afforded Robinton some small pleasure.

«Some of the lordlings undoubtedly are,» Robinton replied, amused. «What have you in mind, Jaxom?» he added, for there was no answering response to his drollery in the grim faced young man. Somehow, the Harper had failed to appreciate the maturing that had occurred in Ruatha's Lord Holder during the past eventful two seasons.

«I intend to get her back,» Jaxom said in a quiet firm tone, and gestured to Ruth. «Toric forgot to reckon with Ruth.»

«You'd fly into Southern and just carry her off?» Robinton asked, trying to keep his expression straight, though Jaxom's romantic manner made it difficult.