"And be in favor with Benden," Lessa said, smiling so sweetly that Robinton almost chuckled at the man's predicament.
Toric stood there, absently rubbing the back of his neck, his smile slightly diminished.
"We should discuss the matter. At some length, I think." Lessa tucked her arm in Toric's and turned him about. "Master Robinton, will you join us? I think that little cot of mine would be an admirable spot in which to talk undisturbed."
"I thought we were here to dig up Pern's glorious past," Toric said, with a good-natured laugh. But he did not disengage his arm from Lessa's.
"There's surely no time like the present," Lessa continued at her sweetest, "to discuss the future. Your future."
F'lar had joined them, falling in step at Lessa's left, apparently aware through the link between Mnementh and Lessa of what had just occurred. The Harper shot a reassuring look over his shoulder to Jaxom but the young man was looking at his dragon.
"Yes, with so many ambitious holdless men pouring into Southern," F'lar said smoothly, "we've been remiss in making certain you'll have the lands you want, Toric. I don't fancy blood feuds in the South. Unnecessary, too, when there's space enough for this generation and several more."
Toric's answer was a full-bodied laugh and although he had adjusted his stride to match Lessa's, he still gave Robinton the impression of invulnerable self-assurance.
"And since there's so much space, why should I not be ambitious for my sister?"
"You've more than one, and we're not talking of Jaxom and Sharra just now," Lessa added with a hint of irritability as she dismissed the irrelevant. "F'lar and I had intended to arrange a more formal occasion to set your Holding," she went on, gesturing to the ancient, empty structure in which they now stood, "but there's Master Nicat wanting to formalize Minecrafthall affairs, and Lord Groghe is anxious that his two sons do not hold adjacent lands, and other questions have come up recently which require answers."
"Answers?" Toric asked politely as he leaned against one wall and crossed his arms on his chest.
Robinton began to wonder just how much of that pose of indolence was assumed. Was Toric's ambition going to overpower good sense?
"One answer required is how much land any one man should Hold in the South?" F'lar said, idly digging dirt from under his thumbnail with his knife point. He had lightly emphasized the one.
"And? Our original agreement was that I could Hold all the lands I had acquired by the time the Oldtimers had passed on."
"Which, in truth, they haven't," Robinton said.
Toric agreed to that. "I shan't insist on waiting," he admitted with a slight inclination of his head, "since the original circumstances have altered. And, since my Hold is thoroughly disorganized by the indigent and hopeful lordlings, and holdless men and boys, I am reliably informed that others have eschewed our help and landed wherever their ships can be beached."
"All the more reason to be sure you are not deprived of one length of your just Hold," F'lar said. "I know that you have sent out exploring teams. How far have they actually penetrated?"
"With the help of D'ram's dragonriders," Toric said as Robinton noticed how keenly he watched F'lar's face to see if this unexpected assistance was known to Benden, "we have extended our knowledge of the terrain to the foot of the Western Range."
"That far?" The bronze rider appeared surprised and perhaps a trifle alarmed.
Robinton knew from that auspiciously discovered map that, while the area from the sea to the Western Range was immense, it was but a small segment of the total area of the vast Southern Continent.
"And, of course, Piemur reached the Great Desert Bay to the west," Toric was saying.
"My dear Toric, how can you possibly Hold all that?" F'lar seemed politely concerned.
"I've small cotholders with burgeoning families along most of the habitable shoreline, and at strategic points in the interior. The men you sent me these past few Turns proved most industrious." Toric's smile was more assured.
"I suspect they have pledged loyalty to you in return for your original generosity?" F'lar asked with a sigh.
"Naturally."
Lessa laughed. "I thought when we met at Benden that you were a shrewd and independent man."
"There's more land, my dear Weyrwoman, for any man who can hold it. Some small holds could turn out to be far more valuable than larger spreads, in the eyes of those who truly appreciate their worth."
"I'd say then," Lessa went on, pointedly ignoring Toric's allusion to Ruatha's size, "that you'll have more than enough to occupy you fully and to hold, from sea to Western Range to the Great Bay…"
Suddenly Toric straightened. Lessa had been looking at F'lar, obliquely seeking his approval for what she granted Toric, so it was only Robinton who caught the full alertness, the look of intense surprise and displeasure in the Southerner's eyes. He recovered himself quickly.
"To the Great Bay in the West, yes, that is my hope. I do have maps. In my Hold, but if I've your leave…"
He had taken one stride to the door when Ramoth's bugle halted him. And as Mnementh chimed in, F'lar moved swiftly to block his way.
"It's already too late, Toric."
As Jaxom watched the Benden Weyrleaders and the Harper walk toward the excavated house with Toric, he expelled with a deep breath the anger he had contained for Toric's belittling manner.
" 'Ruatha a table-sized Hold?' " Indeed! Ruatha, the second oldest and certainly one of the most prosperous Holds on Pern. If Lessa hadn't come then, he'd have shown-
Jaxom took another breath. Toric had the height and reach of him. He'd have been slaughtered by the Southerner if Lessa hadn't interfered and saved him from sheer folly. It had never occurred to Jaxom that Toric might not be honored by an alliance with Ruatha. He'd been stunned when Ruth had informed him of Sharra's contact-that she had been lured back to Southern-and told that Toric would not countenance a marriage for her in the North. Nor would Toric listen to Sharra's avowal of a true attachment to Jaxom. So he had set his queen on her two fire-lizards to keep her from sending messages to Jaxom. Toric hadn't known that Sharra could talk to Ruth, something she had done as soon as she'd awakened that morning. There was a hint of amusement in Ruth's tone for the secret exchange.
Jaxom waited until the four had entered the little dwelling before he moved to Ruth. "Fly into Southern and carry her off," the Harper had said in jest, but that was exactly what Jaxom intended.
"Ruth," he asked in his mind as he closed the distance between them, "are there any fire-lizards of Toric's about you?"
No! We are going to rescue Sharra? Where shall I tell her to meet us? We've only been to the Hatching Grounds in Southern. Shall I ask Ramoth?
"I'd prefer not to involve the Benden dragons in this. We'll go to the Hatching Ground. That egg is coming in useful to us after all," he added, appreciating the irony of the situation as he vaulted to Ruth's back. "Give her the picture, Ruth. Ask her if she can reach the place?"
She says yes.
"Let's get there then!"
Jaxom began laughing openly as Ruth took them between.
They came in low from the east, just as they had not quite a Turn before. Now, however, the ring of warm sand was unoccupied. Only briefly, for fire-lizards swooped down in cheerful greeting.
"Toric's?" Jaxom asked, wondering if he should dismount and search for Sharra.
She comes! Toric's queen is with her. Go away! You displease me, watching my friends!
Jaxom had no time to be astonished by his dragon's fierce attitude. Sharra, trailing a blanket which she was endeavoring to wrap about her thinly clad body, came running across the Ground. She pelted toward him, her expression anxious, and she almost tripped on an edge of her blanket as she looked back over her shoulder.