She says two of Toric's men are after her. Ruth half-sprang, half-glided toward Sharra, while Jaxom leaned down, holding his hands out to catch her and swing her onto Ruth's neck. Two men, swords drawn, came tearing onto the Ground. But Ruth launched himself, leaving the two men swearing helplessly at them as the Ground dropped away. The watchdragon of the Southern Weyr called out to Ruth, who replied in a greeting as he beat upward on the warm air.
"I think your brother has miscalculated, Sharra."
"Take me away from here, Jaxom. Take me to Ruatha! I've never been so furious in all my life. I never want to see that brother of mine again. Of all the devious, misguided…"
"We have to see your brother again, for I'm not hiding from him. We'll have it out in the open today!"
"Jaxom!" There was real concern in Sharra's voice now. She clutched him tightly about the waist. "He'd kill you in a fight."
"Our affair will cause no duel, Sharra," Jaxom said with a laugh. "Bundle yourself well in that blanket. Ruth will take us between as quick as he can!'
"Jaxom, I hope you know what we're doing!"
Ruth took them back to the Plateau, caroling a greeting as he circled down.
"Oh, I'm frozen, but they took my flying gear away," Sharra cried. Her bare legs on Ruth's neck were blue with chill. Jaxom leaned over to rub warmth into them. "And there's Toric. With Lessa, F'lar and Robinton!"
"And the largest of the Benden dragons!"
"Jaxom!"
"Your brother does things his way, I do them in mine! In mine!"
"Jaxom!" There was surprise as well as respect in her voice and her arms tightened again about his waist.
Ruth landed and when they had dismounted, he walked to Jaxom's left as the two young lovers went to meet the others. Toric no longer wore his customary smile.
"Toric, you cannot contain Sharra anywhere on Pern where Ruth and I cannot find her!" Jaxom said after the barest of nods to the Benden Weyrleaders and the Harper. There was no hint of compromise in Toric's hard expression. Nor did he expect it. "Place and time are no barriers to Ruth. Sharra and I can go anywhere, anywhen on Pern."
A piteously crying queen fire-lizard attempted to land on Toric's shoulder, but the man brushed her away.
"Further, fire-lizards obey Ruth! Don't they, my friend?" Jaxom rested his hand on Ruth's headknob.
"Tell every fire-lizard here on the Plateau to go away!"
Ruth did so, adding as the wide meadow was suddenly empty of the little creatures, that they didn't wish to leave.
Toric's eyes narrowed slightly at that show of ability. Then the fire-lizards were back. This time he permitted his little queen to land on his shoulder, but his eyes held Jaxom's.
"How did you know Southern? I was informed that you've never been there!" He made a half-turn as if to accuse Lessa and F'lar of complicity.
"Your informant erred," Jaxom said, wondering if it had been Dorse. "Today is not the first time I've retrieved something from the Southern Weyr which belongs to the North." He laid his arm possessively about Sharra's shoulders.
Toric's composure deserted him. "You!" He extended his arm, pointing at Jaxom; his face was a mixture of anger, indignant outrage, disappointment, frustration and, lastly, a grudging respect. "You took the egg back! You and that… but the fire-lizards' images were black!"
"I'd be stupid not to darken a white hide if I make a night pass, wouldn't I?" Jaxom asked with understandable scorn.
"I knew it wasn't one of T'ron's riders," Toric cried, his fists clenching and unclenching. "But for you to… Well now," and Toric's whole attitude changed radically. He began to smile again, a trifle sourly as he looked at the Benden Weyrleaders and then the Harper. Then he started to laugh, losing anger and frustration in that laughter. "If you knew, Lordling…" again he pointed fiercely at Jaxom, "the plans you ruined, the… How many people knew it was you?" Now he did turn accusingly on the dragonriders.
"Not many," Robinton said, wondering quickly if indeed Lessa and F'lar had ever guessed.
"I knew," Sharra said, "and so did Brekke. Jaxom worried about that egg the whole time he was fevered. Her gaze on his face was proud.
"Not that it matters now," Jaxom said. "What does matter is, do I now have your permission to marry Sharra and make her lady of Ruatha now?"
"I don't see how I can stop you." Toric's broad gesture of frustration took in the people and the dragons.
"Indeed you couldn't, for Jaxom's boast about Ruth s abilities is valid," F'lar said. "One must never underestimate a dragonrider, Toric." Then he grinned without softening the implicit warning. "Especially a Northern dragonrider."
"I shall bear that firmly in mind," Toric said, the intensity of his big voice indicating his chagrin. The amenable grin reappeared on his face. "Especially in our present discussion. Before these impetuous youngsters interrupted us, we were discussing the extent of my Hold, were we not?"
He turned his back on Sharra and Jaxom, and gestured to the others to return to their temporary hall.
AFTERWORD
SPRING HAD COME again to Northern Pern and Ruatha Hold. Once the winter's damages had been repaired and the first crops set, there had been great business on the Hold itself, all aimed to have the old place look its best on the one spring morning when Wansor's equations said no Thread would fall anywhere but harmlessly far to-the west at sea.
Ruatha's walls were scrubbed, its paving brightly sealed, and this day banners hung from every un-shuttered window while flowers decked every corner of the courts and the Hall. Southern vines had been flown in the night before to garland the fire-heights. The broad meadows below the Hold proper were covered with tents and divided into fields for the runner beasts of the guests. Dragons began to arrive, greeted by the old brown watchdragon, Wilth, who would surely be hoarse from bugling welcome before the ceremonies began.
Fire-lizards were everywhere and had to be constantly called to order by dragon and friend. But the atmosphere was so relaxed, so jubilant, that pranks and antics, human or creature, were amicably tolerated.
To cater to so many guests, half Pern north and south it seemed. Fort Hold and Weyr, as well as Benden, had joined kitchen staffs with Ruatha. Toric had obligingly sent from Southern meadows dragonloads of fresh fruit, fish, wild bucks and wherries whose flesh was prized for its tender gamey taste, so distinct from Northern meats. Great roasting, baking and steaming pits had been in operation since the previous evening, the aromas commingling to set mouths watering.
There had been festivities the night before, dancing and singing until early morning, for traders had arrived well in advance, no one minding the multiple uses of this occasion. Now more people poured up the roads, flew down from the skies as the momentous hour for the ceremonious confirmation of the young Lord of Ruatha Hold drew close.
The Harper comes, Ruth told Jaxom and Sharra as the white dragon pushed open the doors of his weyr and stepped into his courtyard.
Jaxom and Sharra, in the main room of their ground-level apartment, heard his joyous bugle of welcome, just as if he hadn't said goodnight to the Harper in the early hours of that morning.
Lioth says for you to wait here. Harper and N'ton want to speak to you without other ears.
Jaxom turned to Sharra in surprise.
"Oh, it can't be anything untoward, Jaxom," she said, smiling. "Master Robinton would have told us last night. I still think that tunic is too tight across your chest."
"All the spring digging at Ship Meadow, my love," Jaxom said, inhaling so that the fabric of his brown tunic strained at the seams.