Esselin did not recover from the shock he had received and died a few days later of a hemorrhage in the brain. Or so the Healer at Landing said. The incident was forgotten as quickly as possible and Tunge soon resumed his duty of keeping the Aivas Chamber neat and tidy.
Once he started swimming daily, F'lessan improved in vigor, was able to concentrate, and asked for astronomy texts so he and Tai could study. He even sent someone up to the observatory office to examine the prints they had taken to show at the Dragonriders' meeting; that now seemed another lifetime ago. Perhaps it was-the notion passed F'lessan's mind briefly-but Tai saw a streak and they had to check that. Then a blur caught their attention and, although that print was marked as a time exposure and it took them all morning to update the orbit, it turned out to be an asteroid among the minor planets; nothing significant. The studying passed a morning and gave both of them practice in configuring orbits. Tai suggested that they could help Erragon by asking for more of the latest prints from Cove Hold. The Star Master might not have time to review prints with all he had to do supervising three new observatories-no name had been chosen yet for the Western Continent installation-and classes that Cove Hold had undertaken.
Golanth walked, limping at first but gradually with more confidence until he was pacing briskly up and down the length of the terrace. He kept trying to extend the damaged wing but it moved awkwardly, despite all the massage and smelly unguents. Sagassy's holdermate, arriving with fresh food, watched him for a long moment.
"Think we can do something about that. Not too far to the ground on the step side."
"Golanth couldn't manage the hold steps," F'lessan said. "He's too long."
"Ramp'd work. Double it, make it wide," Jubb said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Got the wood. Make it strong. How much does your dragon weigh?"
F'lessan and Tai exchanged glances, and F'lessan burst into laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"He weighs as much as he thinks he does," F'lessan managed to say and that set Tai laughing.
Jubb looked from him to Sagassy to Keita and the others and shrugged.
"No one ever weighed a dragon before? We weigh herd-beasts 'n' everything all the time." He threw his hands up in the air. "Well, thought it might help."
"It does, it does, it does." F'lessan caught Jubb by the arm, reassuring him and controlling his amusement. "I'm not laughing at the idea, Jubb. It's an excellent one. Golanth is tired of being stuck up here on the terrace." F'lessan's face lost all merriment. "He can't just take off."
"You are good to suggest it, Jubb," Tai said, coming to his rescue. "How long would it take?"
Jubb gave them a long speculative look. "About as long as you got folk handy enough to build it." Then he grinned.
It took three days, with dragons flying in timber, their riders, and folk who just "heard" that carpentry was needed, including the three dragons who flew in from Telgar Weyr with casks of nails, screws, new hammers, and saws, and brought whatever other equipment might be needed from the SmithCraftHall. Jubb; his workmates, Sparling and Riller; two Smithcrafters, and three of Lord Asgenar's best timber men designed a switchback ramp, with much discussion about the angle of incline, the size and bracing of the structure, the width and depth of the flooring, while men and women sawed and cut, and others hunted or flew in enough food to feed the volunteers. One thing F'lessan made clear: even for his dragon he would not mar the superb facade of Honshu Hold.
More important, F'lessan was immediately involved in the activity, taking time off only to swim, toning the muscles of his bad leg and his shoulder, regaining his tan. He also insisted on taking over as much of Golanth's treatment as possible and trusted no one else, not even Tai, with lubricating the eyelids. He seemed to ignore his own injuries: using a slower, more deliberate step to disguise his limp as he moved around with the cane. He was more his old self, though he didn't smile or laugh quite as easily. If she caught a darkness in his eye now and then, she knew it was all for his dragon, not himself. Several times, she saw F'lessan eyeing the drop from the ledge, measuring it, wondering if perhaps Golanth could indeed fall off its edge and manage a strong enough downward stroke with one wing to become airborne.
Once news of the project spread, Lessa and F'lar came to visit. While F'lar was looking over the plans with Jubb, the Smiths, and the Woodsmen, Lessa told them what was happening at Western-for lack of a better name that had stuck-and Master Erragon's resurrection of the telescopes from the Catherine Caves.
"Before he gets too involved with that," F'lessan said firmly, "we need him to rig a remote control console for the scope here on the main level. There's a room on the north face that would suit." He paused briefly, his eyes flickering. "There must be a way to trigger the dome mechanism, too. That spiral stair is ridiculous. Why did Kenjo hide everything away?"
"Who knows why the Ancients did what they did?" Lessa said, shrugging. "Have you asked Jancis and Piemur to help you? Didn't you persuade them to do the initial restoration of the observatory? Erragon's already grateful you're reducing his backlog of prints. I don't know how he fits everything in."
"He swears he needs only four hours of sleep a night," Tai remarked, incredulous.
"Neither of you can match him yet," Lessa said at her driest, "at your stage of convalescence, but as I understand it, there's more to sky-watching than lying on your back and looking at 'em. He says he needs references from Honshu."
Pausing, she looked out over the valley. "It is very pleasant here, you know, but we can't stay long today."
She and F'lar left shortly afterward, saying they'd be back when the ramp was finished.
They were. It was wide enough for Ramoth, the largest dragon on Pern, who demonstrated by walking down and up it without brushing folded wings against the cliff face. Bravely, Golanth set all four feet on it, F'lessan beside him.
"Now, put your weight down, Golly," F'lessan said, grinning broadly and cocking his head at the slight sound as the timbers gave a little under him. "Don't knock me off."
The spectators cheered dragon and rider as they proceeded down. Ramoth's eyes whirled as she watched from the upper terrace, Zaranth and Mnementh to one side on the cliff face, all three dragons alert. Gradually Golanth moved with assurance, able to lift his tail slightly, which was another improvement in his mobility. The first landing was more than wide enough for him to make the turn. When he and F'lessan reached ground level, he extended his head upward to bugle his pleasure and began to stamp round on the soft dirt. That was when the bronze dragon saw the door to the beasthold, the landing above and to one side of it.
I could weyr in this place,he told his rider. It is wide and high enough for me to enter.
F'lessan, who knew every plane and dimension of Honshu, now saw that the doorway was wider than it had been. Over the general hammering, sawing, and planing, he would not have heard the noise of masons making the enlargement. He knew-because he had mucked out the dirt that had accumulated over the centuries-that the interior of the beasthold was larger than Golanth's weyr at Benden. The ramp now gave him access to it and would certainly protect him from the winter rains.
"Rain," F'lessan thought and had to reach for one of the supports until the dizziness that had abruptly overcome him passed.
"What's wrong, F'lessan?" Tai asked, coming to see what had attracted Golanth's interest. Her expression altered when she realized that he had had some kind of shock.