"Then why," the logical Robie asked, "do we keep singing about it?"
"In appreciation of those times when the dragons did keep the danger away," she said, at her most reassuring.
Robinton asked his mother about Thread and got much the same answer, which really wasn't sufficient to satisfy his curiosity. If the dragons were so important, and they were still flying the skies of Pern, they were there to keep Thread away. They were keeping it away, but there weren't as many as there used to be – not with five Weyrs empty. Would they be enough if Thread came?
Lexey had told him once – Lexey talked a lot to Rob because he would listen to him – that his mother kept telling him that if he didn't behave better, they'd leave him out for Thread to get.
"You know so much, Rob. Would it?" Lexey asked plaintively, sufficiently scared of the threat that most times it achieved the object of making him more obedient – at least for a few days.
"I never heard of it being done to anyone, no matter how bad you are. And "sides, there isn't any Thread in the skies right now." "But, if I was bad enough, would it come to get me?"
"Hasn't yet, has it?" was Robinton's logical reply. "You were awful bad yesterday, making a mess with the colours when you were told to clear them up."
"Yes, I was." Lexey grinned in retrospect, thoroughly pleased with himself. "But it was so fun." He'd smeared every surface in the classroom while Kubisa was out on an errand. She'd made him clean it all up – which was almost as much fun for Lexey as doing it – but he'd had a real scolding from her and his mother for the state of his clothes. "Mother was real mad at me last night." But that seemed to give him a satisfaction which Robie couldn't understand.
He always tried very hard not to upset either his mother or his father – especially his father.
Lexey's paint-smearing occurred the day before the dragons came, so they were at the forefront of Robie's mind when they came circling down into the big Harper Hall courtyard. His parents were busy packing for their trip to Nerat, so he'd been told to go outside and play. He always missed his mother, but it would be nice to stay with Kubisa and her daughter Libby, where he could sing and play his pipe or his drum without worrying about annoying his father. It was his turn to hop-it without smudging the chalk lines on the flags and his attention was utterly focused on the movement of his feet – until Libby made him miss the longest hop by suddenly pointing skywards in astonishment.
"Oh, look, Robie!" she cried.
"That's not fair ..."
His complaint died as he realized that the dragons soaring above were coming closer to the Harper Hall, rather than the Hold where they usually landed. Half a wing of dragons – six of them. As they swept closer, backwinging, their hind legs stretched downwards to land in the Harper Hall rectangle, Robie, Libby and Lexey pressed themselves tightly against the wall to stay out of the way. As it was, two of the dragons had to land outside, since the four made the big quadrangle suddenly appear very small.
The ridged tail of a bronze was so close to Robie that he could reach out and touch it. Which he did, greatly daring, while Lexey regarded him with staring eyes, aghast at his impudence.
"You'll get left out for Thread for sure, Robie," Lexey whispered hoarsely, pressing his sturdy body as close to the stone wall as he could, well away from the dragon's tail.
"He's soft," Robie whispered back, surprised. Runner-beasts were soft, and the spit canines, but watchwhers had hard hides, sort of oily. At least the Harper Hall's o1' Nick did. Were watchwhers another kind of dragon, the way runner-beasts were another kind of herd-beast?
No, not precisely, a voice said in his mind. The dragon turned his huge head to see who had touched him, causing Lexey to hiss in alarm and Libby to whimper in terror. There are many differences.
"I do apologize. I didn't mean to insult you, bronze dragon," Robie said, giving a jerky little bow. "I've never seen one of you up close before."
We do not come as often to the Harper Hall as we used to. It had to be the dragon speaking, Robie decided, because the deep voice couldn't have come from anyone else near by. The rider had dismounted and was standing on the steps talking to his mother and father.
"Are my mother and father going to ride on you to Nerat?" Robie knew that was why the dragons had come, to take all the harpers to Nerat for the espousal. His mother had told him that. Nerat Hold had asked the Weyrleader to provide dragon transport. Going a-dragonback meant they didn't have a long land journey to make, so they wouldn't be away long. And besides it was a great honour to go a-dragonback.
They are harpers? the dragon asked.
"Yes, my mother's MasterSinger Merelan and my father is Master Petiron. He writes the music they're going to sing."
We look forward to hearing it.
"I didn't know dragons liked music," Robie said, greatly surprised. That had never been mentioned with all the other things he'd learned about dragonkind.
Well, we do. So does my rider, M'ridin. Robie could not miss the affection with which the dragon named his rider. He asked especially to convey your mother and father. It will be an honour for us to take a MasterSinger to Nerat.
"Who are you talking to?" Libby asked, her eyes still wide with fright for Robie's presumptuous behaviour towards the huge and powerful creature.
"The dragon, o' course," Robie said, having no real sense of doing something unusual. "You'll be careful with them, won't you, dragon?"
Of course!
Robie was certain the dragon was laughing inside. "What's so funny?"
I have a name, you know.
"Oh, I know that all dragons have names, but I've only just met you so I don't know your name." Robie turned his head ever so slightly to be sure his friends were observing how brave he was.
And courteous.
Cortath is my name. What is yours, little one ?
"Robie ... that is, Robinton, and you will fly my parents very carefully, won't you?"
Of course I will, young Robinton.
Greatly reassured by that, Robie took advantage of this unparalleled opportunity and asked, "Will you be fighting Thread when it comes back?"
The tail gave such a convulsive twitch that it nearly swept both Lexey and Robinton, who were nearest, off their feet. The dragon swerved his body around so that his great head, with its many-faceted eyes swirling with a variety of colours rapidly turning into orange and red, came closer to Robie.
Dragons always fly when Thread is in the sky, was the unequivocal answer.
"You know the song then?" Robie asked, delighted.
But, before Cortath could answer, his rider was at his head, turning it back so that he could introduce the bronze to Merelan and Petiron who were standing beside him. A nervous apprentice hovered discreetly behind them, carrying their various sacks.
"Robinton, what are you doing back there?" his father demanded, noticing him at last and gesturing for him to get out of the way.
"We were just playing hop-it, only Cortath landed in the middle..." At the boy's words, the great dragon Cortath courteously moved his feet. "It's all right, Cortath. You smudged the lines a bit with your tail, but we can fix it when you leave."