Raid regarded the pair with sour disgust. Then he turned on his heel and walked back to his end of the head table.

“I don’t know but what there isn’t truth in the wine,” Larad of Telgar Hold commented as Raid reseated himself.

Lessa “leaned” quickly against Larad. He was nowhere near as insensitive as Raid. When he shook his head, she desisted and turned her attentions to Sifer. If she could get two of them to agree . . .

“Dragon and his rider both belong in the Weyr,” Raid said. “You don’t change what’s natural for man and beast.”

“Well now, take these fire lizards,” Sifer began, nodding toward the two across the table from him, in the arms of the Lord and Lady of Lemos Hold. “They’re dragons of a sort, after all.”

Raid snorted. “We saw today what happens when you go against natural courses. The girl – whatever her name is – lost her queen. Well, even the fire lizard warned her off Impressing a new one. The creatures know more than we think they do. Look at all the years people’ve tried to catch em . . ·”

“Catch ‘em now, in nestsful,” Sifer interrupted him. “Pretty things they are. Must say I look forward to mine hatching.”

Somehow their quarreling reminded Lessa of old R’gul and S’lel, her first “teachers” in the Weyr, contradicting themselves endlessly as they purportedly taught her “all she’d need to know to become a Weyrwoman.” It was F’lar who had done that.

“Boy has to stay here with that dragon.”

“The boy in question is a Lord Holder, Raid,” Larad of Telgar reminded him. “And the one thing we don’t need is a contested Hold. It might be different if Lytol had male issue, or if he’d fostered long enough to have a promising candidate. No, Jaxom must remain Lord at Ruatha Hold,” and the Telgar Lord scanned the Bowl in search of the boy. His eyes met Lessa’s and he smiled in absent courtesy.

“I don’t agree, I don’t agree,” Raid said, shaking his head emphatically. “It goes against all custom.”

“Some customs need changing badly,” said Larad, frowning.

“I wonder what the boy wants to do,” interjected Asgenar, in his bland way, catching Larad’s eye.

The Telgar Lord threw back his head with a hearty laugh. “Don’t complicate matters, brother. We’ve just decided his fate, will – he, won’t – he.”

“The boy should be asked,” Asgenar said, no longer mild-spoken. His glance slid from Larad to the two older Lord Holders. “I saw his face when he came out of the Hatching Ground. He realized what he’d done. He was as white as the little dragon.” Then Asgenar nodded in Lytol’s direction. “Yes, Jaxom’s all too aware of what he’s done.”

Raid harumphed irritably. “You don’t ask youngsters anything. You tell ‘em!”

Asgenar turned to his lady, touching her shoulder lightly, but there was no mistaking the warmth of his expression as he asked her to request young Jaxom’s presence. Mindful of her sleepy green lizard, she rose and went on her errand.

“I’ve discovered recently that you find out a great deal by asking people,” Asgenar said, looking after his wife with an odd smile on his face.

“People, yes, but not children!” Raid managed to get a lot of anger into that phrase.

Lessa “leaned” against him. He’d be more susceptible in this state of mind.

“Why doesn’t he just pick the beast up?” the Benden Lord Holder demanded irritably as he watched the stately progress of the Lady of Lemos Hold, the young Lord of Ruatha and the newly hatched white dragon, Ruth.

“I’d say he was establishing the proper relationship,” Asgenar remarked. “It would be easier and faster to carry the little beast, but not wiser. Even a dragon that small has dignity.”

Raid of Benden Hold grunted, whether in acknowledgment or disagreement Lessa couldn’t tell. He began to fidget, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, so she stopped her “pushing.”

The whir of dragon wings back-beating to land caught her attention. She turned and saw the gleam of a bronze hide in the darkness by the new entrance to the Rooms.

Lioth brings the Masterfarmer, Ramoth told her rider.

Lessa couldn’t imagine why Andemon would be required, nor why N’ton would be bringing him. The Masterfarmerhall had its own beast now. She started to rise.

“D’you realize the trouble you’ve caused, young man?” Raid was asking in a stiff voice.

Lessa swung round, torn between two curiosities. It wasn’t as if Jaxom were without champions in Asgenar and Larad. But she did wonder how the boy would answer Raid.

Jaxom stood straight, his chin up, his eyes bright. Ruth’s head was pressed to his thigh as if the dragonet were aware that they stood on trial.

“Yes, my good Lord Raid, I am fully aware of the consequences of my actions and there may now be a grave problem facing the other Lord Holders.” Without a hint of apology or contrition, Jaxom obliquely reminded Raid that, for all his lack of years, he was a Lord Holder, too.

Old Raid sat straighter, pulling his shoulders back, as if . . .

Lessa stepped past her chair.

“Don’t . . .”

The whisper was so soft that at first Lessa thought she was mistaken. Then she saw the Harper looking at her, his eyes as keen as if he were cold sober. And he, the dissembler, probably was, for all that act he’d pulled earlier.

“Fully aware, are you?” Raid echoed, and suddenly launched himself to his feet. The old Lord Holder had lost inches as he gained Turns, his shoulders now rounding slightly, his belly no longer flat and his legs stringy in the tight hide of his trousers. He looked a caricature confronting the slim proud boy. “D’you know you’ve got to stay at Benden Weyr now you’ve Impressed a dragon? D’you realize that Ruatha’s lordless?”

“With all due respect, sir, you and the other Lords present do not constitute a Conclave since you are not two-thirds of the resident Holders of Pern,” replied Jaxom. “If necessary, I should be glad to come before a duly constituted Conclave and plead my case. It’s obvious, I think, that Ruth is not a proper dragon. I am given to understand that his chances of maturing are slight. Therefore he is of no use to the Weyr which has no space for the useless. Even old dragons no longer able to chew firestone are retired to Southern Weyr or were.” His slight slip disconcerted Jaxom only until he saw Asgenar’s approving grin. “It’s wiser to consider Ruth more of an overgrown fire lizard than an undersized dragon.” Jaxom smiled with loving apology down at Ruth and caressed the upturned head. It was an action so adult, so beautiful that Lessa felt her throat tightening. “My first obligation is to my Blood, to the Hold which cared for me. Ruth and I would be an embarrassment here in Benden Weyr. We can help Ruatha Hold just as the other fire lizards do.”

“Well said, young Lord of Ruatha, well said,” cried Asgenar of Lemos, and his applause started his lizard shrieking.

Larad of Telgar Hold nodded solemnly in accord.

“Humph. Shade too flip an answer for me,” Raid grumbled. “All you youngsters act before you think these days.”

“I’m certainly guilty of that, Lord Raid,” Jaxom said candidly. “But I had to act fast today – to save the life of a dragon. We’re taught to honor Dragonkind, I more than most.” Jaxom gestured toward Lytol. His hand remained poised and a look of profound sorrow came over his face.

Whether Jaxom’s voice had roused him or the position of his head was too uncomfortable was debatable, but the Lord Warder of Ruatha Hold was no longer asleep. He rose gripping the table, then pushing himself away from its support. With slow steps, as if he were forced to concentrate on each movement, Lytol walked the length of the table until he reached his ward. Lytol placed an arm lightly across Jaxom’s shoulders. As though he drew strength from that contact, he straightened and turned to Raid of Benden Hold. His expression was proud and his manner more haughty than Lord Groghe at his worst.