The White Dragon

CHAPTER XIII

JAXOM ROUSED, felt something wet slip down from his forehead across his nose. He irritably brushed it aside.

You are feeling better? Ruth's voice held a volume of wistful hope that astonished his rider.

«Feel better?» Not quite awake, Jaxom attempted to lift himself up on one elbow but he couldn't move his head, which seemed to be wedged.

Brekke says to lie still.

«Lie still, Jaxom,» Brekke ordered. He felt her hand on his chest preventing his movement.

He could hear water dripping somewhere nearby. Then another wet cloth, this one cool and aromatic with scent, was placed on his forehead. He could feel two large blocks, padded because they lay along his cheeks to his shoulder, on either side of his head, presumably to keep him from moving his head from side to side. He wondered what was wrong. Why was Brekke there?

You've been very sick, Ruth said, anxiety coloring his tone. I was very worried. I called Brekke. She is a healer. She heard me. I couldn't leave you. She came with F'nor on Canth. Then F'nor went for the other one.

«Have I been sick a long time?» Jaxom was dismayed to think he'd needed two nurses. He hoped that the «other one» wasn't Deelan.

«Several days,» Brekke replied, but Ruth seemed to think a longer period of time. «You'll be all right now. The fever's finally broken.»

«Lytol knows where I am?» Jaxom opened his eyes then, found them covered by the compress and reached to pull it away. But spots danced in front of his eyes, even shielded by the fabric of the compress, and he groaned and closed his lids.

«I told you to lie still. And don't open your eyes or try to remove the bandage,» Brekke said, giving his hand a little slap. «Of course Lytol knows. F'nor took word to him immediately. I sent word when your fever had broken. Menolly's has too.»

«Menolly? How could she catch my cold? She was with Sebell.»

Someone else was in the room because Brekke couldn't speak and laugh at the same time. She began quietly explaining that he hadn't had a cold. He'd had an illness known as fire head to Southerners; its initial symptoms were similar to those of a cold.

«But I'm going to be all right, aren't I?»

«Are your eyes bothering you?»

«I don't really want to open them again.»

«Spots? As if you were staring at the sun?»

«That's it.»

Brekke patted his arm. «That's normal, isn't it, Sharra? How long do they generally last?»

«As long as the headache. So keep your eyes covered, Jaxom.» Sharra spoke slowly, almost slurring her words but her low voice had a rich lilt that made him wonder if she looked as good as her voice sounded. He doubted it. No one could. «Don't you dare look about. You've still got that headache, haven't you? Well, keep your eyes closed. We've got the place as dark as we can but you could do permanent damage to your eyes if you're not careful right now.»

Jaxom felt Brekke adjust the compress. «Menolly got sick, too?»

«Yes, but Master Oldive sent word that she's responding to the medicine very well.» Brekke hesitated. «Of course, she hadn't flown Thread or gone between, which aggravated the illness for you.»

Jaxom groaned. «I've gone between with a cold before and got no worse for it.»

«With a cold, yes, not with fire head,» Sharra said. «Here, Brekke. This is ready for him now.»

He felt a reed placed at his lips. Brekke told him to suck through it as he should not lift his head to drink.

«What is this?» he mumbled around the straw.

«Fruit juice,» Sharra said so promptly that Jaxom sipped warily. «Just fruit juice, Jaxom. You need liquid in your body right now. The fever dried you out.»

The juice was cool in his mouth and so mild in taste that he couldn't figure out from which fruit it came. But it was just what he wanted, not tart enough to irritate moisture starved tissues in his mouth and throat, and not sweet enough to be nauseating to his empty stomach. He finished it and asked for more, but Brekke told him he'd had enough. He should try to sleep now.

«Ruth? Are you all right?»

Now that you are yourself again, I will eat. I will not go far. I don't need to.

«Ruth?» Alarmed by the thought that his dragon had neglected himself, Jaxom injudiciously tried to raise his head. The pain was incredible.

«Ruth is perfectly all right, Jaxom,» Brekke said in a stern voice. Her hands had already pushed his shoulders flat to the bed. «Ruth's been covered with fire lizards, and he's been bathed regularly morning and evening. He's never been more than two lengths from you. I've reassured him on every concern.» Jaxom groaned, having completely forgotten that Brekke could speak to any dragon. «F'nor and Canth have hunted for him because he wouldn't leave you so he's by no means the skin and bones you are. He'll hunt now, none the worse for the waiting. You go to sleep.»

He had no option and suspected as he drifted away from consciousness that there had been something besides fruit in that drink.

When he woke, feeling rested and restless, he remembered not to move his head. He began to cast back through distorted memories of being hot and cold. He distinctly remembered reaching the cove, staggering into the shade, collapsing at the base of a redfruit tree, struggling to reach the cluster of fruit, longing for the liquid to cool his parched mouth and throat. That must have been when Ruth realized he was ill.

Jaxom could vaguely recall fevered glimpses of Brekke and F'nor, could remember pleading with them to bring Ruth to him. He supposed they had erected some kind of temporary hold for shelter. Sharra had said something to that effect. He extended his left arm slowly, moved it up and down, without contacting more than the frame of the bed. He extended his right arm.

«Jaxom?» He heard Sharra's soft voice. «And Ruth too fast asleep himself to warn me. Are you thirsty?» She didn't sound contrite that she'd been asleep. She made a small sound of dismay as she touched the now dry compress. «Don't open your eyes.»

She removed the bandage and he heard her dipping it in liquid, wringing it out and then he shivered at its touch on his skin. He reached up, holding the bandage against his forehead, lightly at first and then with more confident pressure.

«Hey, it doesn't hurt «

«Ssssh. Brekke's asleep and she wakes so easily.» Sharra's voice had been muted; now her fingers closed his lips.

«Why can't I move my head from side to side?» Jaxom tried not to sound as startled as he felt.

Sharra's low laugh reassured him. «We've got two blocks wedging your head so you can't move. Remember?» She guided his hands to them, then moved the restraints aside. «Turn your head, just a little now, from side to side. If your skin is no longer sensitive, you may be over the worst of the fire head.»

Gingerly he rotated his head, left and then right. He made a bolder motion. «It doesn't hurt. It actually doesn't hurt.»

«Oh, no, you don't.» Sharra grabbed his wrist as he reached for the compress. «I've a night light on. Wait till I shield it. The less light, the better.»

He heard her fumbling with a glow basket shield. «All right now?»

«I'm only permitting you to try,» she stressed the last word as she covered his hand on the bandage with hers, «because it's a moonless hour of night and you couldn't do any harm. If you see even the tiniest patch of glare, cover your eyes instantly.»

«It's that dangerous?»

«It can be.»

Slowly she peeled the bandage back.

«I don't see anything!»

«Any glare or spots?»

«No? Nothing. Oh!» Something had been obscuring his vision for now he could see dim outlines.

«I had my hand in front of your nose, just in case,» she said.

He could make out the dark blur of her body beside him. She must be on her knees. Slowly his sight improved as he blinked sandy incrustations from his lashes.

«My eyes are full of sand.»

«Just a moment.» Suddenly water was dribbled carefully into his eyes. He blinked furiously, complained loudly. «I told you to hush, you'll wake Brekke. She's worn out. Now, does that clear the sand?»

«Yes, it's much better. I didn't mean to be so much trouble.»

«Oh? I thought you'd planned all this on purpose.»

Jaxom caught one of her hands and brought it to his lips, holding it as fast as his weakened condition permitted because she gasped at the kiss and withdrew her hand.

«Thanks!»

«I'm putting your bandage back on,» she said, the reproach in her voice unmistakable.

Jaxom chuckled, pleased to have disconcerted her. His only regret was the lack of light. He could see that she was slender. Her voice, despite her firmness, sounded young. Would her face be lovely enough to match that voice?

«Please drink all this juice,» she said, and he felt the straw against his lips. «Another good sleep now and you're over the worst of it.»

«You're a healer?» Jaxom was dismayed. Her voice had sounded so young. He'd assumed she was a fosterling of Brekke's.

«Certainly. You don't think they'd entrust the life of the Lord of Ruatha Hold to an apprentice? I've had a lot of experience getting people through fire head.»

The familiar floating sensation induced by fellis juice flooded him and he couldn't have answered her no matter how urgently he wanted to.

To his disappointment, when he awoke the next day, Brekke answered his call. It didn't seem courteous to inquire where Sharra was. Nor could he ask Ruth since Brekke could hear the exchange. But Sharra had evidently told Brekke of his middle of the night awakening because her voice sounded lighter, almost gay as she greeted him. To celebrate his recovery, she permitted him a cup of weak klah and a bowl of moistened sweetbread.

Warning him to keep his eyes closed, she changed the bandage but the replacement was not as dense and when he opened his eyes, cautiously, he could distinguish light and dark areas about him.

Midday he was allowed to sit up and eat the light meal Brekke provided, but even that slight activity exhausted him. Nonetheless he complained petulantly to Brekke when she offered him more juice to drink.

«Fellis laced? Am I expected to sleep my life away?»

«Oh, you'll be making up for this lost time, I assure you,» she replied, a cryptic remark that puzzled him as he drifted off to sleep again.

The next day he chafed further at the restrictions imposed on him. He chafed but, when Sharra and Brekke assisted him to the bench so they could exchange rushbags on the bed, he was so weak after sitting up a few minutes that he was very grateful to be down again. He was all the more surprised then, that evening, to hear N'ton's voice in the other room.

«You look a lot better, Jaxom,» N'ton said, walking quietly up to the bed. «Lytol will be immensely relieved. But if you ever,» N'ton's harsh voice reflected his anxieties, «attempt to fight Thread again when you're ill, I'll… I'll… I'll throw you to Lessa's mercies.»

«I didn't think I'd more than a stuffed head, N'ton,» Jaxom replied, nervously poking at grassy bumps in his bedbag. «And it was my first Fall on Ruth…»

«I know, I know,» N'ton said, his tone considerably less reproving. «You couldn't have known you were coming down with fire head. You owe your life to Ruth, you know. F'nor says Ruth has more sense than most people. Half the dragons on Pern wouldn't have known what to do with their rider delirious; they would have been totally confused by the confusion in their riders' minds. No, you and Ruth are in very good odor at Benden. Very good! You just concentrate on getting your strength back. And when you're feeling stronger, D'ram said he'd be glad to bear you company and show you some of the interesting things he found while he was here.»

«He didn't mind me and Ruth following him?»

«No.» N'ton was genuinely surprised at Jaxom's question. «No, lad, I think he was surprised that he'd been missed and gratified that he's still needed as a dragonrider.»

«N'ton!» Brekke's call was firm.

«I was told I couldn't stay long.» Jaxom could hear N'ton's feet scraping on the ground as he rose. «I'll come again, I promise.» Jaxom could hear Tris complaining and he visualized the little fire lizard clutching N'ton's shoulder for balance.

«How's Menolly? Is she recovering? Tell Lytol that I'm very sorry to cause him worry!»

«He knows that, Jaxom. And Menolly's much better. I've seen her, too. She had a lighter touch of fire head than you did. Sebell recognized the symptoms almost immediately and called in Oldive. Don't be in a rush to get up, though.»

As glad as he'd been for N'ton's visit, Jaxom was relieved that it had been short. He felt limp and his head began to ache.

«Brekke?» Could he be having a relapse?

«She's with N'ton, Jaxom.»

«Sharra! My head is aching.» He couldn't help the waver in his voice.

Her cool hand touched his cheek. «No fever, Jaxom. You tire quickly, that's all. Sleep now.»

The reasonable words, spoken in her gentle rich voice lulled him and, though he wanted to remain awake, his eyes closed. Her fingers massaged his forehead, descended to his neck, gently smoothing the tension, all the while her voice encouraged him to rest, to sleep. And he did.

The cool, moist sea breeze roused him at dawn, and he fumbled irritably to cover his exposed legs and back for he'd been sleeping on his stomach, tangled in the light blanket. Having rearranged himself with some difficulty, he couldn't drop back to sleep again though he had closed his eyes, expecting to do so. He opened them again, fretfully gazing beyond the raised curtains of the shelter. He exclaimed in surprise, tensing, just then aware that his eyes were no longer bandaged and his vision was unimpaired.

«Jaxom?»

Twisting around, he saw Sharra's tall figure swing from the hammock, noticed the length of dark hair streaming about her shoulders, obscuring her face.

«Sharra!»

«Your eyes, Jaxom?» she asked in a hushed worried tone and walked swiftly to his bed.

«My eyes are just fine, Sharra,» he replied, catching her hand in his, keeping her where he could see her face clearly in the dim light. «Oh, no, you don't,» he said with a low laugh as she tried to break his hold. «I've been waiting to see what you looked like.»

With his free hand, he pushed aside the hair that covered her face.

«And?» She drawled the word in proud defiance, unconsciously straightening her shoulders and tossing her hair back.

Sharra was not pretty. He'd expected that. Her features were too irregular, in particular her nose was too long for her face, and though her chin well shaped it was a shade too firm for beauty. But her mouth had a lovely double curve, the left side twitching as she contained the humor which her deep set eyes echoed. She arched her left eyebrow slowly, amused by his scrutiny. «And?» she repeated.

«I know you may not agree but I think you're beautiful!» He resisted her second attempt to free her hand and rise. «You must be aware that you have a beautiful speaking voice.»

«I have tried to cultivate that,» she said.

«You've succeeded.» He exerted pressure on her hand, pulling her still closer. It was immensely important to him to determine her age.

She laughed softly, wriggling her fingers in his tight grasp. «Let me go now, Jaxom, be a good boy!»

«I am not good and I am not a boy.» He had spoken with a low intensity which drove the good natured amusement from her expression. She returned his gaze steadily and then gave him a small smile.

«No, you're neither good nor a boy. You've been a very sick man and it's my job,» she stressed the word just slightly as he let her withdraw her hand from his, «to make you well again.»

«The sooner, the better.» Jaxom lay back, smiling up at her. She'd be nearly his height when he stood, he thought. That they would be able to look eye to eye appealed to him.

She gave him one long, slightly puzzled look and then, with a cryptic shrug, turned away from him, gathering her hair and twining it neatly about her head as she left the room.

Although neither of them mentioned that dawn confidence, afterward Jaxom found it easier to accept the restraints of his convalescence in good grace. He ate what he was given without complaint, took the medicines, and obeyed instructions to rest.

One worry fretted him until he finally blurted it out to Brekke.

«When I was fevered, Brekke, did I… I mean…»

Brekke smiled and patted his hand reassuringly. «We never pay any attention to such ramblings. Generally, they're so incoherent they make no sense whatever.»

Some note in her voice bothered him, though. «…so incoherent, they make no sense?» He had babbled his head off, then. Not that he minded about Brekke if he had said something about that dratted queen egg. But if Sharra had heard? She was from the Southern Hold. Would she be as quick to discount his ramblings about that double blasted shard shelled egg? He couldn't relax. What wretched luck to fall ill when you had a secret that must be kept! He worried over that until he fell asleep, and picked right up on the same train of thought the next morning, though he forced himself to be cheerful as he listened to Ruth bathing with the fire lizards.

He comes, Ruth said suddenly, sounding startled. And D'ram brings him.

«D'ram brings whom?» Jaxom asked.

«Sharra,» Brekke called from the other room, «our guests have arrived. Would you escort them from the beach?» She came quickly into Jaxom's room, smoothing the light blanket and peering intently at his face. «Is your face clean? How are your hands?» «Who's coming that has you in a flurry? Ruth?» He's pleased to see me, too. Ruth's sound of surprise was colored with delight.

Jaxom was forewarned by that remark, but he could only stare, stunned, as Lytol came striding into the room. His face was tense and pale under the flying helmet, and he hadn't bothered to unfasten his jacket on the walk up from the beach, so perspiration beads formed on his forehead and upper Up. He stood in the doorway, just looking at his ward.

Abruptly, he turned toward the outside wall, harshly clearing his throat, stripping off helmet and gloves, unbelting his jacket, grunting in surprise when Brekke appeared at his elbow to relieve him of the gear. As she passed Jaxom's bed on her way out of the room, she gave him such an intense look that he couldn't fathom what she was trying to convey.

She says that he is crying, Ruth told him. And that you are not to be surprised or embarrass him. Ruth paused. She is also thinking that Lytol is healed, too? Lytol hasn't been ill.

Jaxom didn't have time to sort out that oblique reference because his guardian had already recovered his composure and turned.

«Hot here after Ruatha,» Jaxom said, struggling to break the silence.

«You want a bit of sun, boy,» Lytol said at the same moment.

«I'm not allowed out of bed, yet.»

«The mountain is just as you sketched it.»

They spoke again simultaneously, answering each other's comments.

It was too much for Jaxom, who burst out laughing, waving Lytol to sit beside him on the bed. Still laughing, Jaxom grabbed Lytol's forearm, holding it firmly, trying in that grasp to apologize for all the concern he'd caused. Abruptly he was engulfed in Lytol's rough embrace, his back soundly thumped when the man released him. Tears sprang to Jaxom's eyes, too, at the unexpected demonstration. Lytol had always been scrupulous in caring for his ward but the older Jaxom had grown, the more he had wondered if Lytol really liked him at all.

«I thought I had lost you.»

«I'm harder to lose than you'd think, sir.»

Jaxom couldn't stop grinning foolishly because Lytol actually had a smile on his face: the first one Jaxom recalled.

«You're nothing but bones and white skin,» Lytol said in his customary gruff manner.

«That'll pass. I'm allowed to eat all I want,» Jaxom replied. «Care for something?»

«I didn't come to eat. I came to see you. And I'll tell you this, young Lord Jaxom, I think you'd better go back to the Mastersmith for more drafting lessons: you did not accurately place the trees along the cove shore in that sketch of yours. Though the mountain is very well done.»

«I knew I had the trees wrong, sir, one of the things I planned to check out. Only when I got back here, it went clean out of my head.»

«So I understand,» and Lytol gave a rusty laugh.

«Give me the news of the Hold.» Jaxom was suddenly eager for those minor details that had once bored him.

They chatted away in a companionable fashion that astonished Jaxom. He'd been ill at ease with Lytol, he realized now, ever since he had inadvertently Impressed Ruth. But that strain had evaporated. If this illness of his did no other good, it had brought him and Lytol closer than Jaxom in his boyhood could ever have imagined.

Brekke entered, smiling apologetically. «I'm sorry, Lord Lytol, but Jaxom tires easily.»

Lytol obediently rose, glancing anxiously at Jaxom.

«Brekke, after Lytol has come all this distance, on dragonback, he must be allowed to..»

«No, lad, I can return.» Lytol's smile startled Brekke. «I'd rather not take a risk with him.» He gave Brekke a second surprise then as he embraced Jaxom with awkward affection before striding from the room.

Brekke stared at Jaxom, who shrugged to indicate she could put her own interpretation on his guardian's behavior. She quickly left to escort the visitors back to the beach.

He was very glad to see you, Ruth said. He is smiling.

Jaxom lay back, wriggling his shoulders into the rushes to get comfortable. He closed his eyes, chuckling to himself. He had got Lytol to see his beautiful mountain.

Lytol wasn't the only one to come to see the mountain, and Jaxom. Lord Groghe arrived the next afternoon, grunting and puffing from the heat, shouting at his little queen not to get lost with all those strangers, and not to get completely soaked because he didn't want a wet shoulder on the way back.

«Heard you'd got ill of that fire head stuff like the harper girl,» Lord Groghe said, swinging into Jaxom's room with a vigor that produced instant fatigue in the convalescent.

More unnerving was Lord Groghe's scrutiny. Jaxom was certain the man counted his ribs, he had looked at them so long. «Can't you feed him up better than this, Brekke? Thought you were a top flight healer. Boy's a rake! Can't have that. Must say you picked a beautiful place to fall ill in. Must have a look about me since I'm down here. Not that it took all that long to come. Hmmm. Yes, must have a look about.» Groghe stuck his chin out at Jaxom, frowning again. «Did you? Before that sickness got hold of you?»

Jaxom realized that Lord Groghe's totally unexpected visit might have several objectives: one, to assure the Lord Holders that the Lord of Ruatha was in the land of the living, all rumor to the contrary. The second purpose made Jaxom a little uneasy when he could so clearly recall Lessa's remark about wanting «the best part of it.»

When Brekke tactfully reminded the blustering and genial Lord Holder that he mustn't tire her patient, Jaxom nearly cheered.

«Don't worry, lad. I'll be back again, never fear.» Lord Groghe waved cheerfully to him from the doorway. «Beautiful spot. Envy you.»

«Does everyone in the North know where I am?» Jaxom asked when Brekke returned.

«D'ram brought him,» she said, sighing heavily and frowning.

«D'ram ought to have known better,» Sharra said, collapsing on the bench and plying a tree frond as a fan in exaggerated relief at the Lord's departure. «The man's enough to wear the healthy down, much less the convalescent.»

«I would guess,» Brekke continued, ignoring Sharra's remarks, «that the Lord Holders needed verification of Jaxom's recovery.»

«He looked Jaxom over like a herdsman. Did you show him your teeth?»

«Don't let Lord Groghe's manner fool you, Sharra,» Jaxom said. «He's got a mind as sharp as Master Robinton's. And if D'ram brought him, then F'lar and Lessa must have known he was coming. I don't think they'll like him returning or scouting around here.»

«If Lessa did permit Lord Groghe to come, she'll hear from me about it, you may be sure,» Brekke replied, thinning her lips in disapproval. «He is not an easy visitor for a convalescent. You might as well know now, Jaxom, that you were ill of that fever for sixteen days…»

«What?» Jaxom sat upright in the bed, stunned.

«But… but…»

«Fire head is a dangerous disease for an adult,» Sharra said. She glanced at Brekke, who nodded, «You nearly died.»

«I did?» Appalled, Jaxom put his hand to his head.

Brekke nodded again. «So, if we seem to be restricting you to a very slow recovery, you will agree that we have cause.»

«I nearly died?» Jaxom couldn't absorb that news.

«So we will go slowly to ensure your health. Now, I think it's time you had something to eat,» Brekke said as she left the room.

«I nearly died?» Jaxom turned to Sharra.

«I'm afraid so.» She sounded more amused by his reaction than concerned. «The important thing is that you didn't die.» Involuntarily she glanced toward the beach and sighed, a quick exhalation of relief. She smiled, a brief one, but Jaxom noticed that her expressive eyes were dark with remembered sorrow. «Who died of fire head that saddens you, Sharra?»

«No one you know, Jaxom, and no one I knew very well. It's just… just that no healer likes to lose a patient.»

He could tease no more from her on the subject and stopped trying to when he saw that she had felt that death so keenly.

The next morning, cursing with embarrassment at the unreliability of his legs, Jaxom was assisted to the beach by Brekke and Sharra. Ruth came charging up the sands, almost dangerous in his delight at seeing his friend. Brekke sternly ordered Ruth to stand still lest he knock Jaxom off his unsteady feet. Ruth's eyes rolled with concern and he crooned with apology as he extended his head very carefully toward Jaxom, almost afraid to muzzle him in greeting. Jaxom flung his arms about his dragon's neck, Ruth tightening his muscles to take the drag of his friend's body, almost thrumming with encouragement. Tears flowed down his cheeks which he quickly dried against his friend's soft hide. Dear Ruth. Marvelous Ruth. Unbidden came the thought to Jaxom's mind: «If I had died of fire head…»

You did not, Ruth said. You stayed. I told you to. And you are much stronger now. You will get stronger every day and we will swim and sun and it will be good.

Ruth sounded so fierce that Jaxom had to soothe him with words and caresses until Brekke and Sharra insisted that he had better sit down before he fell. They had arranged a matting of woven streamer fronds against a landward leaning trunk, well back from the shore, to avoid full exposure to the sun. To this couch they assisted him. Ruth stretched out so that his head rested by Jaxom's side, the jeweled eyes whirling with the lavenders of stress.

F'lar and Lessa arrived at midday, after Jaxom had had a short nap. He was surprised to find that Lessa, for all her abrasiveness on other occasions, made a soothing visitor, quiet and soft voiced.

«We had to let Lord Groghe come in person, Jaxom, though I'm sure you didn't appreciate the visit. Rumor had you dead and Ruth, too.» Lessa shrugged expressively. «Bad news needs no harper.»

«Lord Groghe was more interested in where I was than how I was, wasn't he?» Jaxom asked pointedly.

F'lar nodded and grinned at him. «That is why we had D'ram bring him. The Fort Hold watchdragon is too old to take a placement from Lord Groghe's mind.»

«He also had his fire lizard with him,» Jaxom said.

«Those pesky creatures,» Lessa said, her eyes sparkling with annoyance.

«These same pesky creatures came in very handy saving Jaxom's life, Lessa,» Brekke said firmly.

«All right, they have uses but, as far as I'm concerned, their bad habits still outweigh the good ones.»

«Lord Groghe's little queen may be intelligent,» Brekke went on, «but not clever enough to get him back here on his own.»

«That isn't the real problem,» F'lar grimaced. «He's now seen that mountain. And the scope of the land.»

«So, we put in our claim here first,» Lessa replied decisively. «I don't care how many sons Groghe wants to settle, the dragonriders of Pern have first choice.

«Jaxom can help «

«Jaxom has some time to go before he can do very much of anything,» Brekke said, breaking in so smoothly that Jaxom wondered if he'd misinterpreted the surprise on Lessa's face.

«Don't worry, I'll think of some way to stall Lord Groghe's ambitions,» F'lar added.

«If one gets in, the others will follow,» Brekke said thoughtfully, «and I can hardly blame them. This part of the Southern Continent is so much more beautiful than our original settlement.»

«I have a yearning to get closer to that mountain,» F'lar said, turning his head to the south. «Jaxom, I know you've not been very active yet, but how many of those fire lizards about Ruth are Southerners?»

«They're not from the Southern Weyr, if that's what you're worried about,» Sharra said.

«How can you tell?» Lessa asked.

Sharra shrugged. «They won't be handled. They go between if anyone gets close to them. It's Ruth that fascinates them. Not us.»

«We are not their men,» Jaxom said. «Now that I can get to Ruth, I'll see what I can find out about them from him.»

«I wish you would,» Lessa said. «And if there are any from the Southern Weyr…» She let her sentence trail off.

«I think we ought to let Jaxom rest,» Brekke said. F'lar chuckled, gesturing for Lessa to precede him.

«Fine guests we are. Come to see the man and never let him talk.»

«I've done nothing lately to talk about,» and Jaxom shot a fierce look at Brekke and Sharra. «When you come back, I will.»

«If anything interesting occurs, have Ruth bespeak Mnementh or Ramoth.»

Brekke and Sharra left with the Weyrleaders, and Jaxom was grateful for the respite. He could hear Ruth talking to the two Benden dragons and he chuckled when Ruth told Ramoth firmly that there were no fire lizards from the Southern Weyr among his new friends. Jaxom wondered why it hadn't occurred to him sooner to ask Ruth's acquaintances about their men. He sighed. He hadn't been thinking about much lately except his extraordinary brush with death, and that occupied his mind too morbidly. Much better for him to explore a living puzzle.

He had several. The most worrisome was still what he might have said in his delirium. Brekke's rejoinder had been no real assurance. He tried to force his thought back to that time but all he remembered was heat and cold, vivid but vague nightmares.

He thought about his guardian's visit. So Lytol did like him! Shells! He'd forgotten to ask Lytol about Corana. He ought to have sent her some kind of word. She must have heard of his illness. Not but what this didn't make it easier for him to complete the break in their relationship. Now that he'd seen Sharra, he couldn't have continued with Corana. He must remember to ask Lytol.

What had he said when he was fevered? How did a fever patient talk? In bits and snatches? Whole phrases? Maybe he needn't worry. Not about what he could have said in fever.

He didn't like Lord Groghe just appearing like that, to check up on him. And, if he hadn't taken ill. Lord Groghe would never have known about this part of Southern. At least, until the dragonriders wanted him to know. And that mountain! Too unusual a feature to forget. Any dragon would be able to find it. Or would they? Unless the rider had a very clear picture, the dragon did not always see vividly enough to jump between. And a secondhand vision? D'ram and Tiroth had done so from Master Robinton's description. But D'ram and Tiroth were experienced.

Jaxom wanted to be well. He wanted to get closer to that mountain. He wanted to be first. How long would it take him to recover?

He was allowed to swim a bit the next day, an exercise which Brekke said would tone his muscles but which succeeded in proving he had none left. Exhausted, he was no sooner on his beachside couch than he fell deeply asleep.

Roused by Sharra's touch, he cried out and sat bolt upright, looking about him.

«What's the matter, Jaxom?»

«A dream! A nightmare!» He was sure something was wrong. Then he saw Ruth, stretched out, fast asleep, his muzzle only a handsbreadth from his feet, at least a dozen fire lizards curled on and about him, twitching in their own dreams.

«Well, you're awake now. What's wrong?»

«That dream was so vivid… and yet it's all gone. I wanted so much to remember it.»

Sharra placed a cool hand on his forehead. He pushed it away.

«I'm not fevered,» he said, cranky.

«No, you're not. Any headache? Spots?»

Impatient and angry, he denied them, then sighed and smiled an apology at her. «Bad tempered, aren't I?»

«Rarely.» She grinned, then eased to the sand beside him.

«If I swim a little longer and further every day, how long will it take me to recover fully?»

«What makes you so anxious?»

Jaxom grinned, jerking his head back in the direction of the mountain. «I want to get there before Lord Groghe does.»

«Oh, I think you'll manage that quite easily.» Sharra's expression was mischievous. «You will get stronger every day now. We just don't want you to push yourself too quickly. Better a few more days now, than suffer a relapse and go through all this again.»

«A relapse? How would I know if I was having one?»

«Easy. Spots and headaches. Do please do it our way, Jaxom.»

The appeal in her blue eyes was genuine, and Jaxom liked to think it was for him, Jaxom, not for him, the patient. Not taking his eyes from hers, he nodded slowly in acquiescence and was rewarded by her slow smile.

F'nor and D'ram arrived late that afternoon, in fighting gear, with full firestone sacks draped across their dragons.

«Thread tomorrow,» Sharra told Jaxom as she caught his look of inquiry.

«Thread?»

«It falls on all Pern, and has fallen here in this cove three times since you took ill. In fact, the day after you took ill!» She grinned at his openmouthed consternation. «It's been a rare treat to watch dragons in the sky. We'd only to keep the shelter area free. Grub takes care of the rest,» She chuckled. «Tiroth complains that he's not fighting full when he doesn't follow the Fall to its end. Just wait till you see Ruth in action. Oh, yes, nothing could keep him out of the sky. Brekke keeps her ear open for him and, of course, Tiroth and Canth are directing. He's so proud of himself, protecting you!»

Jaxom swallowed against a variety of emotions, chagrin being foremost as he heard Sharra's casual explanation.

«You were aware of Thread, by the way. Once a dragonrider, one evidently doesn't forget even in fever. You kept moaning about Thread coming and not being able to get off the ground.» Fortunately she was looking at the dragons as they glided to a landing on the beach because Jaxom was certain that his expression gave him away. «Master Oldive says that we humans have instincts, too, hidden deep in our minds, to which we respond automatically. As you reacted to Threadfall, sick as you were. Ruth is such a dote. I made much of him after each Fall, I assure you, and I made sure that the fire lizards got all firestone stink out of his hide.»

She waved a greeting to F'nor and D'ram as they strolled up the beach, loosening their fighting gear. Canth and Tiroth had already shrugged off the firestone sacks on the beach and, wings extended high, waddled with groans of pleasure into the soft warm water. Ruth came slithering through the water to join them. A great fair of fire lizards chittered above the three dragons, overjoyed with such company.

«You've more color, Jaxom, you look better!» F'nor said, grasping Jaxom's arm in greeting.

D'ram nodded his head, agreeing with F'nor.

Aware of his indebtedness to both riders, Jaxom stammered out his gratitude.

«Tell you something, Jaxom,» F'nor said, squatting on his haunches, «it's been a rare treat to watch your little fellow work in the air. He's a superb chop and change artist. Caught three times as much Thread as our big fellows could. You trained him well!»

«I don't suppose I'll be considered strong enough to fight Thread tomorrow?»

«No, nor for some time to come,» F'nor replied firmly. «Know how you're feeling, Jaxom,» he continued as he dropped beside him on the mats. «Felt the same way when I was wounded and not allowed to fly Thread. But now, your only responsibility to Hold and Weyr is to get fit. Fit enough to take a good look about this country! I envy you that chance, Jaxom. Indeed I do!» F'nor's grin was candidly envious. «Haven't had the time to fly far, even after Thread, down here. Forest extends a long way on either side.» F'nor gestured broadly with one arm. «You'll see. Shall I bring you writing materials next trip down so you can make a Record? You may not fly Thread yet awhile, Jaxom, but you'll be working hard enough to make that a treat!»

«You're only saying that. .» Jaxom broke off, surprised at the bitterness in his voice.

«Yes, because you need something to look forward to since you can't do what you want most,» F'nor said. He reached out and gripped Jaxom's arm. «I understand, Jaxom. Ruth's been giving Canth a full report. Sorry. Awkward for you, but Ruth worries when you're upset, or didn't you know that?» He chuckled.

«I appreciate what you're trying to do, F'nor,» Jaxom said.

Just then Brekke and Sharra emerged from the trees, Brekke walking quickly to her weyrmate. She did not, as Jaxom half expected, embrace the brown rider. But the way she regarded him, the gentle, almost hesitant way she rested her hand on his arm, spoke more tellingly of the love between the two than any more demonstrative welcome. A bit embarrassed, Jaxom turned his head and saw Sharra watching Brekke and F'nor, a peculiar expression on her face which she erased the moment she realized that Jaxom was looking at her.

«Drinks all round,» she said in a brisk tone, handing a mug to D'ram as Brekke served F'nor.

It was a pleasant evening and they ate on the beach, Jaxom managing to suppress his frustration in the face of the morning's Threadfall. The three dragons made nests in the still warm sands above the high tide lines, their eyes glistening like jewels in the dark beyond the firelight.

Brekke and Sharra sang one of Menolly's tunes while D'ram added a rough bass line. When Brekke noticed Jaxom's head lolling to one side, he didn't resist her ordering him back to the shelter. He drifted to sleep, face turned toward the fireglow, lulled by the singing voices.

Ruth's excitement roused him and he blinked without comprehension as the dragon's voice penetrated his sleep. Thread! Ruth was going to fight Thread today with D'ram's Tiroth and F'nor's Canth. Jaxom threw aside the blanket, struggled into his trousers, and strode quickly from the shelter to the beach. Brekke and Sharra were helping the two dragonriders load their beasts with the firestone sacks. With the four fire lizards on the ground at his feet, Ruth was industriously chewing away at the pile of stone on the beach. Dawn was just breaking in the east. Jaxom peered through the dim light, straining to see the filmy discoloration that meant Thread. The three Dawn Sisters winked with unexpected brilliance high above him, paling to insignificance the other morning stars in the west. Jaxom frowned at their display. He hadn't realized how bright they were, how close they seemed. In Ruatha, they were duller, barely visible points on the southeastern horizon at dawn. He reminded himself to ask if F'nor could have the use of a long distance viewer, and if Lytol would send down his star equations and maps. Then Jaxom noticed the absence of the fairs of Southern fire lizards which haunted Ruth day and night.

«Jaxom!» Brekke noticed him. The two riders waved a greeting and swung up on their beasts.

Jaxom checked Ruth to be sure he had enough stone in his gullet, caressing his friend and applauding his willingness to fly Thread though riderless.

I remember all the drills we were taught at Fort Weyr. I have F'nor and Canth, and D'ram and Tiroth to help. Brekke always watches me, too. I have never listened to a woman before. But Brekke is good! She is also sad but Canth says it is good for her to hear us. She knows that she is never alone.

They were all facing east where the Red Star pulsed, round and brightly orange red. A film seemed to float across it and F'nor, raising his hand, called Ruth to take wing. Canth and Tiroth leapt strongly into the air, their wings beating in powerful strokes to assist their rising. Ruth was well aloft before them and straining ahead. Beside him four fire lizards appeared, as dwarfed by him as he was by Canth and Tiroth.

«Don't meet Thread alone, Ruth!» Jaxom cried.

«He won't,» Brekke said, her eyes twinkling. «He is young enough to want to be first. At that, he saves the older dragons a lot of effort. But we must go in.»

As one, the three paused for a last look at their defenders and then moved quickly inside the shelter.

«You can't see much,» Sharra told Jaxom, who had gone to stand by the open doorway.

«I'd see if Thread got into this greenery.»

«It won't. We've clever riders.»

Jaxom felt the skin on his back begin to crawl and he gave a massive shudder.

«Don't you dare catch a cold,» Sharra said. She collected a shirt from his room which she threw at him.

«I'm not cold. I'm just thinking of Thread and this forest.»

Sharra made a disparaging sound. «I forget. You're Northern Hold bred! Thread can't do any more than tear or hole leaves which heal in Southern forests. It's all grubbed. And, in case you're interested, that's the first thing F'nor and D'ram did check to be sure the land here is well grubbed. It is!»

We have met Thread, Ruth told him, sounding elated. I am flaming well. I am to do V sweeps while Canth and Tiroth pass east and west. We are high. The fire lizards flame well, too. Over there! Berd. You are closest! Meer, get it to your offside. Talla! Help him. I come, I come. Down. I come. I flame! I protect my friend!

Brekke caught Jaxom's eyes, smiling at him. «He delivers a running comment so we all know how well he fights!» Her eyes lost their focus on him and then she blinked. «Sometimes I see the Fall through three sets of dragon eyes. I don't know where I'm looking! It goes well!»

Later, Jaxom could not have said what he ate or drank. When Ruth's monologue resumed, Jaxom paid strict attention to what his dragon said, looking now and again at Brekke whose face reflected the intense concentration of listening to three dragons and four fire lizards. Suddenly Ruth's commentary stopped and Jaxom gasped.

«It's all right. They don't pursue Thread through the Fall,» Brekke said. «Just enough to insure our safety. Benden flies Thread tomorrow evening over Nerat. F'nor and Canth ought not overtire themselves today.»

Jaxom rose so abruptly that his bench clattered to the floor. He mumbled an apology, righted it and then strode out the door in the direction of the beach. As he reached the sands, he kept peering westward and barely discerned the distant film of Thread. Another shudder gripped him and he had to smooth the hair down on the back of his neck. The cove before him, generally calm with leisurely waves, was roiled with the activity of fish diving, lifting their bodies above the surface and crashing awkwardly down again as if in the throes of pain.

«What's the matter with them?» he asked Sharra, who had joined him.

«The fish are having a good feed off Thread. They generally manage to clean up the cove in time for our dragons to bathe when they return. There! There they all are! Just popped back!»

It was a good Fall! Ruth was jubilant, then rebellious. But we are not to follow it. Canth and Tiroth said that once across the big river there is nothing but stony waste and it is stupid to waste flame above what cannot be hurt by Thread. Ooooh!

Sharra and Jaxom laughed as the little white dragon emitted a trail of flame, almost singeing his muzzle because he was at the wrong flight angle. He corrected instantly, continuing his downward glide on the correct plane.

Even as the big dragons landed, the waters had calmed. Ruth was full of boast that he'd not needed to replenish his fire once, that he now knew how much to take to last the Fall. Canth turned his head toward the little white in an attitude of amused tolerance.

Tiroth snorted and, relieved of his firesack, nodded once toward D'ram then waded into the water. Abruptly the air was full of fire lizards, hovering eagerly above Tiroth. The old bronze threw his head skyward, snorted again and, with a loud sigh, rolled over in the water. The fire lizards descended, dropping mouthsful of sand on him before attacking his hide with all four feet. Tiroth's eyes, lidded once against the water, gleamed just beneath the surface in an eerie submarine rainbow.

Canth bellowed and half the fair left Tiroth to minister to him as he splashed about. Ruth watched this pre emption of his friends, blinked, gave himself a bit of a shake and meekly took to the water at some distance from the bronze and brown. Four fire lizards, the banded ones, detached themselves from the big dragons and began to scrub the little white.

«Here, I'll help you, Jaxom,» Sharra said.

Scrubbing a dragon's hide free of firestone stink is a tiring job under any circumstances and, although he only had to do one side of Ruth, Jaxom had to grit his teeth to finish.

«I told you not to overdo, Jaxom,» Sharra said, her voice sharp as she straightened from scrubbing the fork of Ruth's tail and noticed Jaxom leaning against the dragon's rump. She gestured imperiously toward the beach. «Get out! I'll bring you some food. You're whiter than he is!»

«I'm never going to get myself fit if I don't try!»

«Stop muttering at me under your breath…»

«And don't tell me you're doing it for my own good…»

«No, for mine! I don't want to have to nurse you through a relapse!»

She glared at him so fiercely that he gathered himself erect and stalked out of the water. Though it wasn't far to his informal bed under the trees, his legs were leaden as he dragged them through the water. He lay down, heaving a sigh of relief, and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again someone was shaking him, and he discovered Brekke peering at him quizzically. «How do you feel now?»

«I was dreaming?»

«Hmmm. Bad ones again?»

«No, curious ones. Only nothing was in focus.» Jaxom shook his head to clear the miasma of nightmare. He realized that it was midday. Ruth was asleep snoring, at his left. On the far right, he could see D'ram resting against Tiroth's front legs. There was no sign of F'nor or Canth.

«You're probably hungry,» Brekke said, holding out the plate of food and the mug she'd brought.

«How long did I sleep?» Jaxom was disgusted with himself. He stretched his shoulders, feeling muscles stiff from the exercise of scrubbing a dragon.

«Several hours. Did you good.»

«I dream an awful lot lately. Aftereffect of the fire head?»

Brekke blinked, then frowned thoughtfully. «Come to think of it, I've been dreaming rather more than usual myself. Too much sun perhaps.»

At that point, Tiroth woke, bellowed, struggled to his feet, sprinkled his rider with sand. Brekke gasped and rose quickly, her eyes on the old bronze as he shook his body free of sand and extended his wings.

«Brekke, I must go!» D'ram shouted. «Did you hear?»

«Yes, I heard. Do go quickly!» she called back, raising her hand in farewell.

Whatever had roused Tiroth excited the fire lizards who began wheeling, diving, chittering raucously. Ruth raised his head, looked at them sleepily, then laid his head back on the sand, unmoved by the excitement. Brekke turned to regard the white dragon, with a curious frown.

«What's wrong, Brekke?»

«The bronzes at Ista Weyr are blooding their kills.»

«Oh, Shards and Shells!» Jaxom's initial surprise melded into disappointed disgust with his weakness. He'd hoped to be allowed to attend that mating flight. He'd wanted to cheer G'dened and Barnath on.

«I'll know,» Brekke said soothingly. «Canth will be there as well as Tiroth. They'll tell me all. Now, you eat!»

As Jaxom obeyed, still cursing his unfortunate condition, he noticed that Brekke was staring at Ruth again.

«What's the matter with Ruth?»

«Ruth? Nothing. Poor dear, he was so proud to fly Thread for you, and he's too tired to care about any thing else right now.»

She rose and as she left him Berd and Grail landed on her shoulders, murmuring softly as she disappeared into the shady forest.