Life in a Weyr might seem exotic and strange to outsiders, but I suspect that like much of the life everyone lives, there are times when it just jogs along and doesn't amount to much.

16.8.196

C'lin paused by H'ric's side as the Weyrleader sketched the young dragons and their riders in training.

"Doesn't Galanath get confused with you filling your eye with impressions like these?" His voice was slurred by reason of the attack at Telgar in the early part of the Turn.

H'ric shook his head. "He tells me he can tell them apart, and so far I've never doubted him. How are you, C'lin?"

"I could be better," the bronze rider said evenly. "What would you? D'you still need me? Then I'll continue to serve the Weyr."

"You know you're senior Wingleader," H'ric replied. "I saw you with Sharama - are you going to help out with the land games he's devising?"

"Yes, I said I would. Lavand came and told me the women of the lower caverns want to compete as well. I said I'd work out some races and throwing competitions for them. Handling those stores and supplies, they can probably throw a short spear further than a man by now."

H'ric grinned. "I'm sure they could. And the weyrbrats?"

"Yes, we'll have some little games for them. Aren't you afraid it'll distract the riders from their real purpose?"

H'ric studied his sketches and then closed his notebook. He shook his head, glancing up into the north east.

"No, I'm not afraid of that. I worry they won't stay alert, which is why we need these diversions for them. Flying patrol over the Holds is good for them as well, to appreciate how large the land is."

"M'dor reported the death of Lord Holder Lacalan of Telgar?"

"Yes he did, and I went to the funeral, as you know. Cantin is going to be a loyal friend to us, but I won't count his successors as allies until I know them better. He's fostering two sons from Fort, and they're - jumped up little tunnel snakes."

"Yes, so M'dor said. Well, you'll be able to send some new riders to Telgar soon, and if Bedlith's clutch is a good size - are they for Igen?"

"I know it's not a hospitable place, and they probably can't settle it permanently, but all that wing will certainly know every point of that desert by the end of the Interval."

"I'll supervise the guests for the Impression," C'lin said abruptly after a moment, and H'ric nodded his thanks. They would be putting on a feast, and with a good harvest at the three main Holds, H'ric was confident they would be able to put food away in the stores as well for the coming winter. The tubs of greens had been planted and harvested throughout the summer, and L'rens, on a long sweep north nearly to the permanent snow cap, had found several meadows of wild hay, which had been harvested and stored in the lower caverns as winter feed for the herdbeasts.

"Once again, we're as ready as we can be for the winter," H'ric remarked, and C'lin nodded his agreement.

"He's a clever rider, that L'rens."

He stalked off, and H'ric watched him go. C'lin was aging, but H'ric needed him to lead the Wings.

Someone had come out of the lower caverns, and H'ric nodded a greeting to Uniak, the rider of gold Bedlith.

"How is your dragon?" H'ric asked.

"Tetchy," Uniak admitted. "I don't think she - expected - such a mating."

"She's a very young dragon," H'ric said. "Would you like to speak to the Weyrwoman about it?"

"I already did," Uniak said, with a shy glance, and colour in her face. "She helped me a lot. Where are you planning to send us, Weyrleader?"

They started walking towards the Hatching Grounds where Panath guarded her clutch.

"I had thought of Igen. I know it's a hard and desolate land, and it wouldn't be permanent like Telgar."

"It would give you three points of the triangle of cover, wouldn't it? But it's still going to be difficult."

"Yes."

There didn't seem anything else to say, and they entered the Hatching Grounds to find Alissia with her dragon. Panath was inclined to be snappy and short with anyone she found on the grounds, and H'ric had had to ask Jiverny to bespeak Havenenth about it, to allow the candidates some familiarity with the eggs before Impression. He was afraid that if they were thrust onto the ground unknowing, their very fear would make the hatching and Impression difficult.

Sharama leaned across to H'ric as they watched the dancers.

"The Masterharper sent a spy," he murmured. "Hence Yorus being very correct and playing only the set songs."

"I wondered why he was doing that. Drat the man! Well - I suppose I could always arrange for Yorus to go down to the coast, the spy could follow, and we could ship him on board a fishing boat for a month or two?"

Sharama laughed softly. "I wish it were that simple, Weyrleader. I don't understand it, but I told Yorus to wait until there were only weyrfolk, before he sings one of those catchy little numbers he devises."

"I told him he had to make the music for the games," Jiverny remarked as she listened shamelessly to their talk. "Lots of marches, and drums, and perhaps some horns as well. I want a victory flourish to be played at the presentation of the prizes."

"Speaking of which - how did you manage to get your father to present so many silver cups?"

Jiverny smiled at them. "Oh, I told him I would have his name engraved as donor, and everyone would remember him for ever."

Sharama nodded. "That's what all Lord Holders want, I'm afraid. To be remembered for ever."

"Then they should petition the Masterharper to allow his men to compose ballads in their honour," H'ric replied. "I presume they write down their family lines, their intermarriages, all the children they father?"

"I'm sure they do," Sharama said after an enquiring look at Jiverny. "I worry about it sometimes, that they're shrinking this world instead of expanding it."

"The problem is, this part of the world is all mountains and high passes, and difficult terrain," Jiverny pointed out. "The good land is parcelled out into ever smaller pieces in each generation, but there's nothing that can be done with the high mountain slopes, so my father always grumbled."

"He has that long mountain range, but it's not as high as these Benden mountains."

"And he farms further and further up the slopes," Jiverny confirmed. "By terracing around the slopes, he can prevent runoff. Lord Arun could do the same, I suggested to him he go and visit, and he said it would take weeks to get there."

"We could fly him," H'ric said quietly. "He could open correspondence with your father, I'd be pleased to provide a young rider as a messenger, and then we could take him there on a bronze, with whatever baggage he wanted."

Jiverny studied him thoughtfully.

"That's an excellent idea," Sharama said. "Get them to mix at times other than stiffly formal conferences and conventions!"

"So long as the other Lord Holders didn't think they were conspiring," Jiverny said with a shrug, pouring each of them another measure of wine. "We forget, dedicated as we are to the defence of the whole of Pern, that earth-bound factions must exist."

H'ric watched the dancers gyrate, seeing Lord Arun in consultation with two of the Master Miners from Crom. Another boy had been snatched from the drudgery and danger of the mines to an uncertain future as a dragon rider, and H'ric wondered if Lord Arun was negotiating a price for Crom coal. The traders would bring that at a tidy profit to themselves as always. That was not something H'ric was prepared to offer; he had no intention of cutting out the traders and their constant wanderings and newsgatherings around Pern just because he could fly dragon-loads of coal in an instant of time.

"Come and dance, lady mine," he said abruptly, and they moved into a set and danced with the other guests at another successful Impression that would hopefully begin to fill the empty Weyrs before the end of the Interval.