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"G'lanar?" D'ram grabbed the man by the arm and, with F'lar's help, hauled him to his feet.
Jaxom told Ruth to call the fire-lizards off and, still screaming their challenge, the fair swooped back out the window.
Sharra stared from the bed as Jancis and Lessa crowded into the room, each holding a bright basket.
"What did you intend, G'lanar?" F'lar demanded, his voice coldly implacable.
"He's to blame..." G'lanar cried, spitting in his fury, cradling his broken wrist to his chest.
Jaxom stared down at the old rider. "Blame?"
"You! I know who it was now! It was you-and that white runt that ought to have died the moment it was born!" Outside, Ruth roared exception to the insult, then thrust his head through the window. "If it hadn't been for you, we 'd've had our own fertile queen! We'd've had a chance!"
Jaxom shook his head slightly, trying to understand the accusation. So few knew that he and Ruth had recovered the abducted queen egg from Benden Weyr. How had G'lanar learned?
"So it was you who cut the riding straps?" Jaxom demanded.
"Yes, yes, I did, and I'd've got you. I'd've kept trying till I did. Nor wept if your woman had died that morning. Save Pern from more like you and that abortion!"
"And you, a dragonrider, would seek the death of another?" D'ram's scorn and horror made G'lanar flinch-but only briefly.
"Yes, yes, yes!" His voice climbed in fury and frustration. "Yes! U
"That's enough of that," F'lar said, stepping forward purposefully.
"It is! Enough!" Before either Jaxom, who had stepped back from the man, or F'lar, who was moving toward him, could act, G'lanar plunged his dagger into his own breast.
His action shocked everyone to immobility.
"Oh, no!" Jaxom breathed, dropping to the man's side and feeling for the throat pulse. With the rider dead, the dragon would suicide. Had G'lanar's thrust been true? His heart quailed, waiting for the keen all dragonriders dreaded to hear.
Ruth had pulled his head from the window, and Jaxom could see him, rearing back on his haunches and stretching to his full height, wings spread to balance him. The sound he uttered was muted, an oddly strangled noise. There were other sounds in the night, and then Ramoth and Mnementh landed outside the room, deepening the shadows.
Lamoth dies. In shame. Ruth sank back to the ground, wings limp against his back, his head low. They were mistaken to steal Ramoth's egg. We only set matters right. I am not an abomination or u
Lessa moved to Jaxom and lifted him up from the dead man; her eyes watered with tears and her expression was dreadful, but her hands were gentle. Sharra, wrapping the sheet around herself, ran to him and put her arms around him, draping a corner of the sheet over his nudity.
"I don't understand this," D'ram said, ru
"There have been moments," Lessa said in a broken voice, "when I wonder what good I did bringing the five Weyrs forward."
"No, Lessa." D'ram. recovered from regret to touch her shoulder supportively. "You did what was necessary. So did Jaxom, though I never realized it was he who saved that situation." He shot an approving look at the young Lord Holder.
"Why did no one realize that G'lanar harbored such a grievance?" F'lar demanded.
"I'm going to get to the bottom of this," Lessa said resolutely. "I'd thought the Weyrs were united in this project! Surely even Oldtimers are! They've fought two lives' worth of Thread..."
D'ram was scrubbing at his face, shaking his head, his shoulders hunched against the night's treachery. "Every Oldtimer I've spoken to-and there are few enough of us old ones now, and all the younger riders are definitely in accord with Benden. Everyone sees the help, the training, the promise Aivas holds out as the culmination of the Weyr objective since the first egg hatched. The project has given us all hope at this critical point in a Pass."
"Ramoth has started speaking to the other queens," Lessa said, her voice strained. "We'll know by morning if there are any other disaffected riders in any Weyr."
"I'll take care of this," F'lar said, gesturing to Piemur and Jaxom to help him with G'lanar's body.
"No, I will," D'ram said, stepping over the corpse to heave it over his shoulders. His face was devoid of expression, but his cheeks were tearstained. "He was a good rider before he went South with Mardra and T'ton."
The others stepped back so he could pass with his sad burden. Sharra handed Jaxom his long-tailed riding shirt, and as he slipped into it gratefully, she hurriedly pulled on a tunic. The night breeze was chilly. She went past Jaxom to the door.
"A cup of hot wine is indicated," she said, and Jancis followed her to the kitchen.
Sharra had added something to the wine, Jaxom decided when he woke and found morning well started. She was still asleep beside him, so he assumed that she had taken her own medicine. A boon for him, since he had no intention of delaying that day's plan. He eased out of the bed, scooped up his clothing, and went to dress in the head. When he entered the main room, he found Lessa cradling a cup of klah in her hands while F'lar, a set expression on his face, was spooning cereal into his mouth. Without a word, the Weyrwoman rose and filled a cup and a bowl for Jaxom.
"Is everyone else still asleep?"
Lessa shook her head. "Piemur and Jancis have gone to Landing with D'ram and Lytol. Robinton's to sleep himself out." She took another sip of klah. "Ramoth says the queens report no other traitors in our midst." Her tone was as bleak as her eyes. "She says that Southern's queen is inexperienced and Adrea too young to understand G'lanar's grievances. However, apparently old G'lanar had begun to get quite testy, going off a lot on his own after Tillek. When S'rond was due to join the fighting wings at Southern Weyr, G'lanar begged for the duty at Ruatha. That would have made me suspicious!"
"Why?" F'lar asked. "Ruatha's the duty everyone wants." He gave Jaxom an encouraging smile and spooned more sweetener over the remains of his porridge.
Noticing that, Lessa opened her mouth to scold and then shut it, looking away in her disgruntlement. F'lar winked at Jaxom, pretending relief.
"No, the Oldtimers who chose to go south with Mardra and T'ton were already antagonistic to Benden's aims," the Weyrleader said, "as much because Benden suggested them. G'lanar would've brooded long enough, ripe for any scheme to support his grievances. And we already know there's a fair number who see Aivas as an Abomination."
"There may be more after today," Lessa muttered.
F'lar dropped his spoon with a clatter. "No one's going to know about today..."
She shook her head, surprised at his remark. "I didn't mean what we plan to do," she said with some exasperation. "I meant, G'lanar's death. Well, the Weyrs know the old fellow died but certainly not why. We can at least keep the attack quiet."
F'lar shot an anxious look at Jaxom, who shrugged acquiescence. He certainly didn't wish to have the story bruited about.
"That's what D'ram's going to insure: that everyone thinks old G'lanar suffered a brainstorm."
"That's lame. The dragons'll know..."
"Ramoth says not. Lamoth had gone to sleep in the clearing, totally unaware of what G'lanar was doing here. Of course, he knew when G'lanar died, and he floundered between somehow. To be doubly cautious, D'ram means to speak to each of the remaining Oldtimers. Tiroth may not be a queen, but no dragon could hide his heart from that bronze."