Страница 37 из 114
Considering that days at Landing were apt to be spent in nonstop work, Lessa thought a good breakfast was only prudent, even if they were already behind the appointed hour. "We'll make time," she said, a ripple of mischievousness in her voice.
"Now, now, Lessa," he began in a tone of mock reproof, "if we don't let anyone else time it..."
"Rank has some privileges, and I'll think the better for a decent breakfast in my guts," she said. "So we'll make a little time. Especially since you're so hard to wake up." She laughed softly when he sputtered a protest. "If you please, Ramoth!" And the queen crouched to allow her rider to mount. "You won't mind giving F'lar a lift, will you, dearest? I don't want him falling off that upper ledge, trying to mount Mnementh in the dark."
Ramoth turned her head toward F'lar and blinked. Of course.
Mnementh waited until both riders were settled on the queen's neck before pushing off from the upper ledge and gliding down beside them to the floor of the Bowl. As soon as they had landed, the night lights in the Lower Caverns were visible, as well as the banked fire on the small hearth where a big kettle of porridge was simmering. The huge klah pot was pulled slightly to one side so that the contents would not become too strong to be palatable.
As Lessa filled two bowls with the steaming cereal, she was glad that they had the place to themselves. The bakers must just have left-for the big table near the main hearth was full of cloth-covered breadpans. F'lar brought over two cups of klah, spooning an almost indecent amount of sweetener into his, and then sprinkling as much again over the porridge Lessa set in front of him.
"It's a miracle you don't gain weight with all that sweetener," she began.
"Or lose my teeth," he said, adding the second half of that long-standing complaint. He gave her his widest grin and tapped his teeth with his spoon. "But I don't and I haven't." He dug into his breakfast.
Lessa sipped at her klah first, wanting to clear the last of sleep from her wits.
"Do you suppose that Aivas is going to start the Project this morning?"
F'lar shrugged as the question caught him with a hot mouthful. He swallowed. "I can't think why else he called a meeting of such a group at such an hour. According to the original schedule he gave us, we should be ready to start. Despite what some critics imply," he added with a grimace that had nothing to do with the piping-hot porridge on his spoon, "he keeps his promises."
"So far," Lessa said in a dour tone.
"Well, he has!" Then F'lar looked at his weyrmate. "You don't really believe he can keep his promise about Thread, do you?"
"I just can't figure out how he can contrive to have us do what the settlers couldn't! " She glared at him, both relieved and sorry that she had come out with the doubt that had been increasingly bothering her.
F'lar covered her hand with his. "He's done everything he's promised to do. And I believe him, not just because I, as a dragonrider, want to, but because he sounds so very sure."
"But, F'lar, every time he's been asked, he hasn't promised that we will be able to destroy Thread. He's said it is possible. That's not quite the same thing."
"Let's just see what today brings, huh, love?"
F'lar gave her that knowing look of his which sometimes she wanted to scratch off his face. She took a deep breath and held back a scathing retort. Today could prove much, and as deeply as she wanted it to prove that F'lar was right to place so much confidence in Aivas, she had to prepare him for possible disappointment.
"But if today is a disaster, that's going to reduce our effectiveness at next week's Conference at Tillek Hold to choose Oterel's successor."
F'lar frowned. "I recognize that danger. I'm reasonably sure that Aivas also does. I'd say that's why he scheduled this meeting. His timing so far has been nothing short of phenomenal."
"He and Lytol are really into the political aspects, aren't they? I could almost wish that Lytol was still Ruathan Lord Warder. That'd give Groghe the support he needs. Even I have heard the grumbling about Ruatha's young Lord Holder spending so much time down here instead of in his Hold."
"At least Ranrel can't be considered too young to be a Lord Holder, Lessa," F'lar reminded her. "He's in his mid-thirties, with five children. And he's certainly the only one of Oterel's sons who's shown any initiative at all. That port-renewal project of his was inspired." F'lar chuckled. "Even if he did add insult to injury by insisting on using Hamian's stuff to build the new wharfs and reinforce the piers."
Lessa had to grin, remembering the fuss Ranrel's i
"And when the other brothers tried to belittle Ranrel's project, along comes Master Idarolan, raving about the facilities," she said.
"That's not going to hurt when the Lord Holders convene. His mate's a Masterweaver. She's interested in having a power loom. I don't know where she found out that such things were possible."
Lessa threw up her hands. "Everyone's gone 'power' mad."
"It sure reduces sheer drudgery."
"Hmm. Yes. Well, eat up. We'll be late."
F'lar gri
After putting their crockery in the main sink to soak, they fastened jackets and caps and left the cavern.
"We were supposed to be there half an hour ago, Ramoth," Lessa told her queen as she mounted. "We need to be there on time."
If you insist, Ramoth replied disapprovingly.
The others were already assembled in the main hall when the Benden Weyrleaders arrived. Robinton looked sleepy, but Jaxom, Mirrim, Piemur-with gold Farli curled about his shoulders-and the three male green riders ail appeared very wide-awake indeed.
Jaxom straightened his shoulders and pulled at the lightweight sleeveless tunic he wore, to free it from his sweaty back. Irrepressibly, Piemur gri
"All present and accounted for, so let's see what Aivas wants with such an ill-assorted crew," F'lar said, nodding at Lessa to lead the way. As he strode forward, he tossed a reassuring smile over his shoulder at Jaxom and the others.
When Aivas had asked for this predawn meeting two days earlier, his special students had been excited by the prospect that he intended to launch the plan. They had been careful to contain that excitement to prevent even more rumor circulating. Not even Piemur had been brash enough to ask Aivas for confirmation.
Certainly all these young folk had studied diligently over the past two Turns, even if their lessons and drills seemed to be irrelevant or endlessly repetitious until, as Jaxom had remarked to Piemur, he could do them in his sleep.
"That may be what Aivas wants," Piemur had said with a shrug. "They make about as much sense as the drills he gives me for Farli."
Jaxom saw him stroking Farli's back as they marched down the hall and into Aivas's room. The lights brightened, and Piemur gri