The Skies of Pern Read Online Free PDF

Pern
, Golanth said stoutly.
    Golanth was fond of making that observation. Almost as if Golanth, too, needed to reassure himself. Maybe it was just the mind-set of a bronze dragon—or more likely Mnementh’s in particular, since F’lar’s great bronze took a keen interest in the subtle tuition of any bronzes hatched on Benden’s sands. However, succeeding F’lar as Weyrleader of Benden was most certainly not in F’lessan’s future plans. F’lessan earnestly hoped that F’lar would lead the Weyr out of this Pass: a triumph in itself, over and above what F’lar had done at its beginning with the slender force he’d had available then. Being Wingleader suited F’lessan’s blithe personality, especially now that he had claimed Honshu as his special domain. Now, if the Weyrleaders—or rather F’lar—would just come out and say that he and Lessa would retire there, no one would dare contest his claim.
    Unlike the position of Lord Holders, the Weyrleadership was not hereditary. A good example was the recent stepping down of R’mart and Bedella of Telgar. To establish the new leadership, the challenge had been for the best bronze in the Weyr to fly the first junior queen ready to mate. J’fery, rider of bronze Willerth, was now Telgar’s Weyrleader, and Palla, golden Talmanth’s rider, was Weyrwoman. F’lessan knew them both well, and knew they would lead Telgar Weyr well under Threadfree skies.
    If we don’t make the arrogant mistakes that the Oldtimers did, F’lessan
added to himself,
and expect to continue receiving the perquisites due the Weyrs during a Pass, once there is no more Thread
.
    A movement brought him back to the present. The girl’s boots scraped over the stone floor as she recrossed her ankles. She was hunched forward over the reading desk and now leaned her elbows on the table. Her profile was well lit by the softly disseminated light, and she had thinned her lips over whatever it was she was reading. She frowned, then sighed over the wide page.F’lessan saw the well-defined arch of a black eyebrow as her frown relaxed. She had a long and very delicately formed nose, he observed with mild approval. Her hair, a midbrown sparking with red as she moved, was clipped short on top to reduce sweating under her helmet. Left long at the nape of her neck, the wavy mass reached halfway down her back, where it was neatly cut off in a straight line.
    She turned her head abruptly, suddenly aware of his scrutiny.
    “Sorry. Thought I’d have the place to myself,” F’lessan said genially, striding forward, his dress shoes making very little sound on the stone floor.
    Her startlement suggested to him that she, too, had thought she could study in solitary quiet. She was in the act of pushing back her chair when he held out a hand to prevent her from rising. Most riders knew who he was: he made a habit of flying Thread with the two southern Weyrs and usually attended every Impression. The latter was sheer indulgence on his part, for at each Impression, he and Golanth reaffirmed their lifelong commitment to each other.
    Now that he could see her full face, he recognized her.
    “You’re Tai, aren’t you? Zaranth’s rider?” he asked, hoping he remembered rightly.
    You always do
, Golanth murmured.
    She’d Impressed, unexpectedly, nearly five Turns ago at Monaco Bay. She’d come south, though he couldn’t remember from where. There had been so many people flooding through Landing since Aivas was discovered in 2538. While she couldn’t be much older than her mid twenties, he wondered if she’d been part of the workforce during those astonishing five Turns of Aivas. After all, Aivas had demonstrated a distinct bias for green dragons and their riders.
    F’lessan stepped forward, extending his hand to her. She looked embarrassed, dropping her eyes as soon as their hands had clasped politely. Her handshake was firm, if brisk almost to the point of rudeness, and he could feel some odd ridges, scars, on