“Now, if you’ll come this way, Lessa’s waiting for you,” the boy said.

As Benden Weyr was an amazement to Jayge, Lessa was only slightly less of a surprise. He could feel the force of her personality as strongly as he had felt Thella’s, but there all resemblance ended. Despite her slight stature, Lessa carried herself with authority, gracious but firm. She was more courteous to a trader than he had expected, and she listened with such interest that he found himself telling her the whole story, from his first encounter with Thella and Giron, to that dawn’s surveillance, and his fears, assumptions, and anxieties—with one exception. He made no mention of Readis.

“Please, Lady Lessa, bring Aramina back here before it’s too late,” Jayge said, stretching his hand across the table to Lessa’s and then pulling it back as he realized his forwardness.

“As soon as I learned of your errand, Jayge Lilcamp, I sent word to Lord Raid. They’ll keep her safe, I assure you.” She gave him a radiant smile, then explained her method. “Ramoth, my queen, told Benden’s watchdragon.”

“But the girl’d be safer here,” Jayge insisted, fretting. Anyone could walk into Benden Hold; anyone could find her out on a hunt.

Lessa frowned just slightly, then leaned toward Jayge, putting her small hand on his arm, strong fingers pressing in reassurance. “I do understand your concern. And I would prefer to have Aramina right here in Benden until she Impresses but…the girl does hear dragons.” She grimaced in frustration. “All the time, and every dragon.” She sighed extravagantly, then tilted her head slightly and smiled at him. Suddenly Jayge knew why so many people respected, even worshipped her, and he found himself smiling back at her, half-embarrassed by his reaction. “The conversations were driving her crazy.”

“Not as crazy as Thella could,” Jayge heard himself saying.

“Tubridy at the outer gate said you had a picture of a man who purportedly had letters from her family,” Lessa said.

Jayge pulled his warranty from his pocket, opening it as if expecting to find the sketch folded up in it. Then he fumbled in his chest pocket, feigning dismay and annoyance and checking the other pockets in his jacket. “I must have dropped it. My runnerbeast did not like the tunnel, or the dragons.” He attempted an ingratiating smile and an abashed shrug.

To his surprise, she spread out a sheet, much bigger than any of the ones Perschar had used, but which included all the sketches the craftsman had done, including a new pose of Readis, by no means as accurately drawn from memory as from life. The resemblance of uncle to nephew did not seem as pronounced—at least Jayge hoped that Lessa would notice none. Without hesitation, he pointed to Dushik.

“I’d know that one anywhere,” he said. He knew he was taking a chance but he was irrationally determined to save his uncle. How, he did not know—but he had to try.

Lessa was looking at him oddly, her eyes slightly narrowed. “How did you have come to have a sketch?”

“Well, as I told you, I thought they’d make for Igen low caverns. On my own like that, I might just be told something holders, and dragonmen”—his smile was respectfully apologetic—“might not get to hear. So I was given one of Perschar’s sketches to show. I’ve a score to settle with Thella and her friends.” Jayge had no need to counterfeit the hatred and determination that welled up in him. Then he was startled to hear a dragon rumble nearby.

“Private scores have a habit of getting out of hand, Jayge Lilcamp,” Lessa said with a strange smile.

Suddenly Jayge was reminded again of Thella. He shook the comparison out of his head and got to his feet as the Weyrwoman rose.

“And getting in the way of more honorable qualities,” Lessa continued. “You can leave this matter in Weyr hands. We’ll protect Aramina.” A dragon bugled, and the noise reverberated. Lessa smiled dotingly. “You have Ramoth’s word on it.”

“Does she hear everything?”

Lessa laughed. It was an astonishingly young laugh. She shook her head reassuringly. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

Jayge turned away to avoid her shrewd eyes and perceptive mind. He had never heard anything about dragons being able to hear everyone’s thoughts—just those of their riders.

“Go across to the kitchen on your way out, Jayge Lilcamp. You’ll need a good meal to start your way back home.”

Thanking her, he followed the boy out of the weyr but came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the golden dragon sitting on the ledge. She had not been there when he had entered. Her tail was wrapped around her front legs and her wings tucked flat to her dorsal ridge, but she was looking squarely at him as he came out.

“She likes it if you speak to her. ‘Good morning, Ramoth’ is appropriate,” the boy suggested when he realized that Jayge had not moved.

“Good morning, Ramoth,” Jayge repeated in a dry voice and edged carefully toward the first step. The dragon loomed above him, and he had never felt so insignificant in his life. Although he was of reasonable height, he came no higher than her short foreleg. He swallowed and took another step. “Give my greetings to Heth, would you? I liked meeting Heth.” Jayge knew he was babbling, but somehow or other his words seemed appropriate.

“Really,” the boy said, tugging his arm, “she won’t do anything.”

“She’s bigger than I thought,” Jayge said, speaking rapidly and in an undertone.

“Well, she is the Benden queen. And,” the boy added proudly, “the biggest dragon on all Pern.”

Ramoth canted her head upward suddenly, rumbling at three dragons circling to land on ledges above her. Two of them answered her. Jayge took advantage of that distraction to go down the weyr steps as fast as he could, passing the boy on his way out. When he reached the Bowl floor safely, he took a deep breath and wiped his sweating forehead with one hand.

“C’mon, you’re to have a meal. Weyr food’s good,” the boy said encouragingly, catching up.

“I think I’d rather—”

“You can’t leave the Weyr without a decent meal,” the boy insisted. “Look, Ramoth’s curling up for a snooze in the sun.”

Lessa’s reassurances lasted only until Jayge’s first overnight camp. He had been heartened to see sweep riders quartering in the distance, farther down the roadway. Then the overlapping branches obscured his sight of them. He fretted until almost dawn, sleepless, remembering each word of his interview, trying to allay his doubts about dissembling to the Weyrwoman herself, and trying to puzzle out her warning about settling private scores.

He wished he could see some way of getting Readis free of his association with Thella. And who was the third man he had heard? Dushik? Or Giron? He rather doubted it was Giron, not that close to a Weyr. Dushik was reputed to be the more formidable opponent.

Jayge drove himself and Kesso hard down the trail, eschewing more comfortable lodging in the interest of pressing on. Someone at the Weyr had kindly tied a sack of grain to his saddle so that he could feed the hard-working Kesso properly. He stopped only to buy travel meal and more grain before moving on. He kept looking for any signs of other recent travelers, although it would have been too foolish of Thella and the others to move on the well-used road.

Then he knew what he would do when he reached Benden Hold. He would ask to see the black-haired girl. She had seemed sensible enough to take him seriously. He would show her the sketch of Readis and warn her about him. Dushik was ferocious enough so that people would automatically be wary of him. But Readis looked respectable and he had a clever tongue in his head. Too clever by half. Still, Blood loyalty had compelled Readis to draw Thella’s raiders off the train, and Jayge had to do as much for his uncle.

He was tired, still wet from the previous day’s rain, and hungry on an exhausted, foot-dragging mount when he arrived at Benden Hold. To his immense relief, activity around the Hold seemed to be normal. He asked for Master Conwy, who was surprised to see him but who welcomed him cordially.