We have let ourselves be guided too long by what we could read and extract from the data left to us on computer. We have been too dependent. It is high time we stood squarely on our own two feet . .

. She paused, twisting her mouth wryly, to underscore her own uneven stance, . . . and made our own decisions. Especially when what the computers tell us has less and less relevance to our current problems." You said it, Bethany,' agreed Sheledon, nodding approval with a little quirk of his mouth.

Clisser smoothed back his hair again and smiled ruefully.

It would have been better if this could all have happened just a little - and he made a space between thumb and forefinger, later.

When we found what we need for the dragon riders You mean, a fail-proof system to prove the Red Star's on a drop course?" Sheledon asked and then shrugged. The best minds on the continent are working on that problem.

We'll find a solution,' said Bethany, again with the oddly calm resolution of hers. Mankind generally does, you know." That's why we have dragons,' Sydra said. I could really murder a cup of klah.

Weyrling Barracks and Bitra Hold

An insistent, increasingly urgent sense of hunger nagged Debera out of so deep a sleep she was totally disoriented.

The bed was too soft, she was alone in it, and neither the sounds nor smells around her were familiar.

I really am most terribly hungree and I know that you were very \tired but my stomach is empty, empty, empty MORA TH Debera shot bolt upright and cracked her poll on the underside of the dragonet's head because Morath had been leaning over her bed. Ouch! Oh, dearest, I didn't hurt you, did I?" Standing up in the bed, Debera wrapped apologetic arms about Morath, stroking her cheeks and ear knobs reassuring her with murmurs of regret and promises to never hurt her again.

The little dragon refocused her eyes, whirling lightly, but with only the faintest tinge of the red of pain and alarm which dissipated quickly with such ardent reassurances.

Your head is much harder than it looks, she said, giving hers a little shake.

Debera rubbed underneath the jaw where the contact had been made.

I'm so sorry, dearest, and then she heard a giggle behind her and swivelling around, half in anger, half in reflexive defence, she saw that she was not alone in the weyrling barracks. The blonde girl from Ista . . . Sarra, that was her name . . . was sitting on the edge of her bed, folding clothes into the chest. Her dragonet was still curled up in a tight mound from which a slight snore could be heard.

Ooops, no offence intended . . . Sarra said, smiling with such good nature that Debera immediately relaxed. You should have seen the looks on your faces. Morath's eyes nearly crossed when you cracked her.

Debera rubbed the top of her head, grimacing, as she descended from the bed.

I was so deeply asleep . . . I couldn't think where I was at first .

Morath's been as good as she could be,' Sarra said. T'dam said to dress for dirty work. We're supposed to bathe and oil them after their first nap of the day." That was when Debera remembered the pile of things she had not properly sorted the previous night.

Does dressing take long? Morath asked plaintively.

No, it doesn't, love,' and, turning her back in case Sarra might be embarrassed, Debera hauled off the nightdress and threw on the garments on the top of the pile - not new, certainly, but suitable for rough work.

The socks were new, knitted of a sturdy cotton, and she was especially grateful for them since the pair she had had on yesterday had already been worn several days. She stamped her feet into her own boots and stood.

I'm ready, dear,' she said to the little green. who stepped down off the raised platform and promptly fell on her nose.

Sarra jumped the intervening bed to help right Morath, struggling so hard to keep from laughing that she nearly choked. Once Debera saw that Morath had taken no hurt, she grinned back at the Istan.

Are they always this . . ? Sarra nodded. So T'dam told us.

You'll find a pail of meat just outside the door . . . We get a break this first morning,' and she wrinkled her nose in a grimace, but after today, it's up at the crack of dawn and carve up our darlings' breakfasts." There was a long snorting snore from Sarra's green and she whirled, waiting to see if the dragonet was waking up. But the snore trembled into a tiny soprano ooooooh' and then resumed its rhythm.

Did she do that all night long?" Debera asked.

I am SO hungry Debera was all apologies, and so was Sarra who sprinted ahead to fling open both leaves of the door, making a flourishing bow for their exit. Morath immediately crowded against Debera, pushing her to the right, her young nose detecting the enticing smell in the two covered pails on the rack outside the barracks.

Debera lifted the pail down while Morath impatiently nudged off the cover and seemed to inhale the gobbets.

Debera allowed her to fill her mouth and then started shielding the pail with her body.

You will chew what you eat, Morath, you hear me? You could choke to death, and then where would I be?" Morath gave her such a look of pained astonishment and reproach that Debera couldn't remain stern.

Chew,' she said, popping a handful of pieces into Morath's open mouth. Chew!" she repeated and Morath obediently exercised her jaws before spreading them wide again for another batch. Debera had not tended the orphaned young animals of her hold without learning some of the tricks.

Whoever had decided on the quantity, Debera thought, knew the precise size of a dragonet's belly. Morath's demands had slowed considerably as Debera reached the bottom of the pail and the dragonet sighed before she swallowed the last.

I see she's had breakfast,' said T'dam, appearing from behind so suddenly that Morath squawked in surprise and Debera struggled to get to her feet. T'dam's hand on her shoulder pushed her back down.

We're not formal in the Weyr, Debera, he said kindly.

Now, lead her over to the lake there,' and he gestured to the right where Debera recognized the large mounds as sleeping drago nets

Then, when she wakes up from this feed she'll be just where you can bathe and oil her." T'dam grinned. Before you can feed her again, though..." and then he motioned to his left. Ar you squeamish?" he asked.

Debera took a good look in the direction he pointed and saw six skinned carcasses, swaying from butchering tripods.

Weyrlings were busy with knives carving flesh off the bones, or at the table chopping raw meat into dragonet morsels.

Me?" Debera gave a cynical snort. Not likely." Good,' T'dam said approvingly. Some of your peers are.

Come now, Morath,' he added in a totally altered tone, loving and kind and wheedling, you'll need a little rest and the sands by the lake are warm in the sun .

Morath lifted her head, her eyes glistening bluey-green as she regarded the Weyrlingmaster.

He is a nice nian, she said and began to waddle towards the lake: her swaying belly bulged lumpily with her meal.

When you've settled her, Debera, be sure to get your own breakfast in the kitchen. Good thing you're not squeamish he said, turning away, but his chuckle drifted back to Debera's ears.

It's awffilly far to the lake, isn tit, Debera? Morath said, puffing.

Not really,' Debera said. Anyway, it's much too rocky underfoot right here to make a comfortable bed for your nap.

Morath looked down her long nose, her left fore knocking a stone out of her path. And she sighed. She kept going, Debera encouraging her with every slow step, until they reached the sandier ground surrounding the lake. It had recently been raked, the marks visible between the paw- and tail-prints of the drago nets Debera urged Morath further on to the sand, to an empty spot between two browns who were tightly curled with wings to shield their eyes from the autumn sun pouring down on them.

With a great sigh, Morath dropped her hindquarters to the sand, with an I'm not going a step further attitude and sank slowly over to her right side. She curled her tail about her, curved her head around under her left wing and, with a sweet babyish croon rumbling in her throat, fell asleep.

Once again, Debera could barely bring herself to leave the dragonet, lost in the wonder of having been acceptable to such a marvellously lovable creature.

She'd been lonely and lacking in love for so long - ever since her mother had died and her oldest full brother had left the family Hold.

Now she had Morath, all her very own, and those long years of isolation faded into a trivial moment.

She's perfectly safe here,' Debera told herself finally, and forced herself to leave Morath and make her way across that quadrant of the Bowl to the kitchen caverns. Enticing smells of fresh bread and other viands made her quicken her steps.

She hoped she'd have enough restraint not to bolt her food like her dragonet.

The kitchen cavern at Telgar Weyr was actually a series of caves, each with an entrance, varying in size, width and height.

As Debera paused at the entrance of the nearest and smallest one, she saw that hearths or ovens were ranged against the outside wall, each with a separate chimney protruding up the cliff face. Inside, the many long tables where last night guests had been entertained were reduced to the number needed by the regular population of the Weyr.

But the interior was busy as men and women went about food preparation tasks.

Breakfast's over there, a woman said, smiling at Debera and pointing. Porridge's still hot and the klah's fresh made.

Help yourself." Debera looked to her left to the farthest hearth, which had tables and chairs set invitingly near it.

There'll be fresh-baked bread soon, too, and I'll bring some over,' the woman added and proceeded on her own business.

Debera had only just served herself a heaping of porridge - not a lump in it, nor a fleck of burn - and a cup of klah when two boys, looking bewildered and not at all sure of how to proceed, wandered in.

The bowls are there, the cups there,' Debera said, pointing.

And use that hunk of towel to hold the pot while you spoon out the cereal. It's hot.

They sent her tentative smiles - they must just be old enough for Impression, she thought, feeling just a trifle older and wiser. They managed - but not without slopping gobs of porridge into the fire and jumping back from the hiss and smell - to get enough in the bowls and to pour klah into their cups.

C'mon, sit here, I won't bite, she said, tapping her table.

They were certainly not a bit sullen or grouchy, like her younger half brothers

You've a green, haven't you?" the first one asked. He had a crop of black curls that had recently been trimmed very close to his skull.

Course she has a green, stoop id the other lad said, elbowing the ribs of the first. I'm M'rak, and Caneth's my bronze,' he added with a justifiable smirk of pride.

My bronze is Tiabeth,' the black haired boy said, equally as proud of his dragon, but added modestly, I'm S'mon.

What's yours called?" Morath,' and Debera found herself grinning broadly. Did all new riders feel as besotted as this?

The boys settled into chairs and began to eat, almost as eagerly as drago nets Deliberately Debera slowed the rhythm of her spoon.

This porridge was really too good to gulp down: not a husk nor a piece of grit in it. Obviously Telgar tithed of its best to the Weyr, even with such a staple as oats for porridge. She sighed, grateful for more than Impressing Morath yesterday.

The boys suddenly stopped, spoons half lifted to their mouths and, warned, Debera turned quickly. Bearing down on their table was the unmistakable bulk of Tisha, the head woman of the Lower Cavern. Her broad face was wreathed with a smile as generous as she was.

How are you today? Settling in all right? Need anything from stores? Parents will pack your Gather best, and you really need your weeding worst,' she said, her rich contralto voice bubbling with good humour. Breakfast all right?

Bread's just out of the oven and you can have all you want." She had halted by Debera's chair and her hands, shapely with long strong fingers, patted Debera's shoulders lightly as if imparting a special message to her along with that pressure.

You lack something, come tell me, or mention it to T'dam.

You weyrlings shouldn't worry about anything other than caring for your drago nets That's hard work enough, I'm telling you, so don't be shy, now." She gave Debera a little extra pat before she removed her hands.

I didn't think to bring with me the gown you lent me last night,' Debera said, wondering if that's what the subtle message was.

Heavens above, child,' said Tisha, big eyes even wider in her round face, why, that dress was made for you, even if we didn't know you'd be coming." Her deep chuckle made her large breasts and belly bounce.

But it's far too good a dress . . . Debera began in protest.

Tisha patted Debera's shoulder again. And fits you to perfection. I love making new clothes. My passion really, and you'll see: I'm always working on something." Pat, pat. But if I'd no-one in mind when I cut and sewed it last year, 1

couldn't have worked better for you if I'd tried. The dress is yours. We all like to have something pretty to wear on Seventh Day.

Do you sew?" she asked, eyeing Debera hopefully.

No, I'm afraid not,' Debera answered, lowering her eyes for she remembered her mother with work in her hands in the evenings, embroidering or sewing fine seams in Gather clothes. Gisa barely managed to mend rips, and certainly neither of her daughters was learning how to mend or make garments.

Well, I don't know what holder women are doing with their young these days. Why, I had a needle in my hand by the time I was three -, Tisha went on.

The boys' eyes were glazing over at the turn of the conversation.

And you'll learn to sew harness, my fine young friends, she said, wagging a finger at them. And boots and jackets, too, if you've a mind to design your own flying wear." Huh?" was M'rak's astonished reaction. Sewing's fer women.

Not in the Weyr, it isn't,' Tisha said firmly. As you'll see soon enough. It's all part of being a dragon rider You'll learn.

Ah, now, here's the bread, butter and a pot of jam.

Sure enough, another ample woman, grinning with the pleasure of what she was about to bestow on them, deposited the laden tray on the table.

That should help, thank you, Allie,' Tisha said as Debera added a murmur of appreciation and S'mon remembered his manners, too. M'rak made no such delay in grabbing up a piece of the steaming bread and cramming it into his mouth.

Wow! Great!" Well, just be sure you don't lose it, preparing your dragonet's next meal,' Tisha said and moved off before the astonished bronze rider had absorbed her remark.

What'd she mean by that?" he asked the others.

Debera grinned. Hold-bred?" Naw, m'family's weavers,' M'rak said. From Keroon Hold.

We have to cut up what our drago nets eat, though, don't we?" S'mon asked in a slightly anxious voice. From the the bodies they got hung up?" You mean cut it off the things that wore the meat?" M'rak turned a little pale and swallowed.

That's what we mean,' Debera said. If you like, I'll do your carving and you can just cut up. Deal?" You bet,' M'rak agreed fervently. And gulped again, no longer attacking the rest of the bread that hung limply from his fingers. He put the slice down. I didn't know that was part of being a dragon rider too.

Debera chuckled. I think we're all going to find out that being a dragon rider is not just sitting on its neck and going wherever we want to.

A prophecy she was to learn was all too accurate. She didn't regret making the bargain with the two youngsters - it was a fair distribution of effort - but it did seem that she spent her next weeks either butchering or feeding or bathing her dragonet with no time for anything else but sleeping. She had dealt with orphaned animals, true, but none the size nor with the appetite capacity of drago nets Morath seemed to grow overnight, as if instantly transferring what she ate to visible increase - which meant more to scrub, oil AND feed.

It's worth it, I keep telling myself,' Sarra murmured one day as she wearily sprawled onto her bed.

Does it help?" Grasella asked, groaning as she turned on her side.

Does it matter?" put in Mesla, kicking her boots off.

All that oil is softening my hands,' Debera remarked in pleased surprise, noticing the phenomenon for the first time.

And matting my hair something wicked,' said Jule, regarding the end of the fuzzy plait she kept her hair in. I wonder when I'll have time to wash it again." If you ask Tisha, she'll give you the most marvellous massage,' Angie said, stretching on her bed and yawning.

My leg's all better.

She and her Plath had tripped each other up, and she'd pulled all the muscles in her right leg so badly that at first they feared she'd broken a bone in the tumble. Plath had been beside herself with worry until Maranis had pronounced the damage only a bad wrenching'. The other girls had helped Angie tend Plath.

All part of being a dragon rider T'dam had said, but he exhibited sympathy in making sure he was at hand to assist her. too. Nothing you won't grin about later.

Although the room in which Lord Chalkin sat so that the newly-certified Artist Iantine could paint his portrait of the Lord Holder was warmer than any other chamber in Bitra that lantine had occupied, he sighed softly in weariness. His hand was cramped and he was very tired, though he was careful not to reveal anything to his odious subject. He also had to do a bang-up job of this portrait as fast as possible, or he might not leave this miserable Hold until the spring.

Fortunately this first snow was melting and, if he finished the painting, he'd leave before the paint was dry. And with the marks he'd been promised!

Why he had ever thought himself able to handle any problem that could occur on a commission, he did not know.

&rtainly he had been warned: more about not gambling with any Bitrans, to be sure, had he had any marks to wager. But the warnings had been too general. Why hadn't Ussie told him how many other people had been defrauded by the Biran Lord Holder? The contract had seemed all right, sounded all right and was as near to a total disaster as made no never mind. Inexperienced and arrogant, that's what he was.

Too self-assured to listen to the wisdom of the years of experience Master Domaize had tried to get through his thick head.

But Master Domaize had a reputation for letting you deal with your own mistakes - especially the ones unconnected with Art.

Please, Lord Chalkin, would you hold still just a moment longer?

The light is too good to waste,' lantine said, aware of the twitching muscles in Chalkin's fat cheeks. The man didn't have a tic or anything, but he could no more be still in his fancy chair than his children.

Impishly, lantine wondered if he could paint' a twitch - a muscle rictus - but it was hard enough to make Chalkin look good as it was.

The man's muddy brown, close-set eyes seemed to cross towards the bridge of his rather fleshy, bulbous nose - which Iantine had deftly refined.

Master Domaize had often told his students that one had to be discreet in portraying people, but lantine had argued the matter: that realism was necessary if the subject wanted a true' portrait.

True portraits are never realistic, his master had told him -and the other students in the vast barn of a place where classes were held.

Save realism for landscapes and historical murals, not for portraits.

No-one wants to see themselves as others see them. The successful portraitist is one who paints with both tact and sympathy.

Iantine remembered railing about dishonesty and pandering to egos.

Master Domaize had looked over the half spectacles he now had to wear if he wanted to see beyond his nose and smiled that gentle, knowing smile of his.

Those of us who have learned that the portraitist must also be the diplomat make a living. Those of us who wish to portray truth end up in a craft Hall, painting decorative borders." When the commission to do miniatures of Lord Chalkin's young children had been received at Hall Domaize, there had been no immediate takers.

What's wrong with it?" Iantine demanded when the notice had stayed on the board for three weeks with no-one's initials.

He would shortly sit his final exams at Hall Domaize and had hopes to pass them creditably.

Chalkin's what's wrong with it,' Ussie said with a cynical snort.

Oh, I know his reputation,' Iantine replied, blithely flicking a paint-stained hand, everyone does. But he sets out the conditions,' and he tapped the document, and they're all the ones we're supposed to ask for.

Ussie smothered a derogatory laugh in his hand and eyed him in the patronizing way that irritated lantine so. He knew he was a better draughts man and colourist than Ussie would ever be, and yet Ussie always acted so superior. lantine knew his general skills were better, and improving, because of course, in the studio, everyone had a chance to view everyone else's work. Ussie's anatomical sketches looked as if a mutant had posed as the life model . . . and his use of colour was bizarre. Ussie did much better with landscapes and was a dab hand at designing heraldry shields and icons and such peripheral art work.

Yes, but you'll have to live in Bitra Hold while you're doing it, and coming into winter is not the time to live there.

What? To do four miniatures? How long could it take?" Iantine had a seven-day in mind. Even for very small and active children, that should be sufficient.

All right, all right, so you've always managed to get kids to sit still for you. But these are Chalkin's and if they're anything like him, you'll have the devil's own time getting them to behave long enough to get an accurate likeness. Only, I sincerely doubt that an "accurate" likeness is what is required. And I know you, Ian . . . Ussie waggled a finger at him, grinning more broadly now. You'll never be able to glamorize the little darlings enough to satisfy doting papa." But. -The last time a commission came in from Chalkin, said Chomas, joining in the conversation, Macartor was there for nine months before his work was deemed "satisfactory".

Chomas jabbed his finger at the clause that began on the completion of satisfactory work'. He came back a ghost of himself and poorer than he'd started out.

Macartor?" lantine knew of the painter. a capable man with a fine eye for detail, now doing murals for the new Hall at Nerat Hold.

He tried to think of a reason why Macartor had not been able to deal well with Chalkin. Great man for detail, but not for portraiture,' he said.

Ussie's eyebrows rose high in his long face and his grey eyes danced with mischief.

So, take the commission and learn for yourself. I mean, some of us need some extra marks before Turn's End, but not so badly as we'd go to Bitra Hold to earn em. You know the reputation there for gambling?

They'd sooner stop breathing than stop gambling.

Oh, it can't be half as bad as they say it is,' Iantine replied.

The sixteen marks, plus keep and travel expenses, is scale.

Ussie ticked the points off on fingers. Travel? Well, you'd have to pay your own way there . - But he specifies travel - - Iantine protested, tapping that phrase impatiently.

Hmmm, but you have to pay out for the travel there and account for every quarter mark you spent. Take you a few days to sort out right there. Chalkin's so mingy no decent cook stays with him, ditto for housekeeper, steward and any other staff, so you may end up having to cook your own meals if he doesn't charge you for the fuel to cook with. The Hold's not got central heating, and you'd want a room fire this time of the year in that region. Oh, and bring your own bed-furs, he doesn't supply them to casual workers Casual? A portraitist from Hall Domaize is not classified as a casual worker,' Iantine said indignantly.

At Bitra, my friend, everyone's casual,' Chomas put in.

Chalkin's never issued a fair service contract in his life. And read EVERY SINGLE WORD on the page if you are foolish enough to take the commission. Which, if you had the sense of little green apples, you won't." Chomas gave a final decisive nod of his head and continued on his way to his own work station, where he was doing fine marquetry on a desk.

However, lantine had a particular need for the marks the commission would bring him. With his professional diploma all but in his hand, he wanted to start repaying what he owed his parents. His father wanted to avail himself of lantine's land allotment to extend his pasturage, but he didn't have the marks to pay the Council transfer fees: never a huge amount, but sufficient so that Ian tine's large family would have to cut back on what few luxuries they had to save the sum. it was therefore a matter of self-esteem and pride for lantine to earn the fee.

His parents had given him a good start, more than he deserved considering how seldom he had been at the hold since his twelfth birthday. His mother had wished him to be a teacher, as she had been before her marriage. She had taught all the basics to him, his nine siblings and the children in the other nearby Benden mountain sheep and farm holds. And because he had shown not only a keen interest in learning but also discernible skill in sketching - filling every inch of a precious drawing book with studies of every aspect of life on the hillside hold - it had been decided to send him to the College. His help would be missed, but his father had reluctantly agreed that the lad showed more aptitude with pen and pencil than shepherd crook. His next youngest brother, who had the temperament for the work, had been ecstatic to be promoted to Iantine's tasks.

Once at the College, his unusual talent and insights were instantly recognized and encouraged. Master Clisser had insisted that he do a portfolio of sketches: animal, mineral and floral'. That had been easy to collect since lantine constantly sketched and had many vignettes of unsuspecting classmates: some done at times when he should have been doing other lessons. One in particular - a favourite with Master Clissex - was of Bethany playing her guitar, bending over the instrument for intricate chording. Everyone had admired it, even Bethany.

His portfolio was submitted to several private craft Halls which taught a variety of skills, from fine leather tooling to wood, glass and stone workings. None of those on the West Coast had places for another student, but the woman who was master weaver in Southern Boll had said she would contact Master Domaize in Keroon, one of the foremost portraitists on Pern, for she felt the boy's talent lay in that direction.

To Iantine's astonishment, a green dragon had arrived one morning at the College, available to convey him back for a formal interview with Domaize himself. Iantine wasn't quite sure what excited him most: the ride on the dragon between, the prospect of meeting Master Domaize or the thought of being able to continue with art as a possible profession. He had been in a worse state on his return because Master Domaize, having set him the task of sketching himself, had accepted him as a student and sent off a message to his parents that very day, arranging terms.

lantine's family had been astounded to receive such a message.

Still more astonishing had been the information that Benden's Lord and Lady Holder were willing to pay more than half his fees.

Now he must earn as much as he could, as soon as he could, to show his family that their sacrifices had not been wasted.

Undoubtedly Lord Chalkin would be difficult. Undoubtedly there would be problems, but the marks promised for the commission would pay the land transfer fee. So he'd initialled the contract; a copy was made for Master Domaize's files and it had been returned to Lord Chalkin.

Chalkin had demanded, and received, a verification of Iantine's skill from his Master and then returned the signed contract.

Best re-read it, Ian, Ussie said when Iantine waved the document about in triumph.

Why?" Iantine glanced down the page and pointed to the bottom lines. Here's my signature, and Master Domaize's, alongside Chalkin's. That is, if that's what this scrawl is supposed to be." He held it out to Ussie.

Hmmm, looks all right, though I haven't seen Chalkin's hand before. My, where did they find this typewriter? Half the letters don't strike evenly." Ussie passed the document back.

I'll see if there're any other examples of Lord Chalkin's signature in the files,' Iantine said, though how. . . and why - .

would he deny the contract when he himself proposed it?" He's a Bitran, and you know how they are. Are you sure that's your signature?" Ussie grinned as Iantine peered with a suspicious glare at his own name. Then Ussie laughed.

Sure, I'm sure it's mine. Look at the slant of the t". Just as I always make it. What are you driving at, Ussie?" Iantine felt the first twinges of irritation with Ussie's attitude.

Well, Bitrans are known to forge things. Remember those bogus land transfer deeds five years ago? No, I don't suppose you'd have heard about them. You'd've still been a schoolboy." With an airy wave of his hand, Ussie left a puzzled and worried Iantine.

When he brought the matter up to his master, Domaize could produce a sample of Lord Chalkin's signature on a document much creased and worn. Domaize also put his glasses up to his eyes and peered at his own name on the current contract.

No, this is mine, and I recognize your slanting t-bar." He put the document in the to-do' tray. We'll copy it into our workbook.

If you have any trouble though, at Bitra Hold, let me know instantly.

It's much easier to sort things out when they start, you know. And don't,' and here Master Domaize had waggled a stern finger at him, allow them to entice you into any games of chance, no matter how clever you think you are. Bitrans make their living at gaming. You can't compete at their level." lantine had promised faithfully to eschew any gaming. He'd never had much interest in such things, being far more likely to sketch the players than join the game. But gambling was not a thing' that the Master would have meant. Iantine was learning. what did fall into that category: especially the nuances of the word satisfaction'. Such a simple word that can be so misconstrued. As he had done.

He had done not four miniatures, but nearly twenty, using up all the materials he had brought with him so that he had had to send for more from Hall Domaize since the wood used in miniatures had to be specially seasoned or it would warp, especially in a damp environment like Bitra Hold. He had done the first four on the canvas he had brought with him for the job, only to discover - along with a long list of other objections from Lord Chalkin and his wife, Lady Nadona that canvas was not satisfactory' If it isn't the best quality,' and she ran one of her almost dragon-talon nails across one canvas, snagging a thread so badly the surface was unusable, it doesn't last long.

Skybroom wood is what you should be using." Skybroom wood is expensive . You're being very well paid for these miniatures, she said.

The least we can expect is the best grade of materials." Skybroom wood was not stipulated in the contract. . Did it have to be?" she demanded haughtily. I made sure that Domaize Hall has the very highest standards.

Master Domaize provided me with the best canvas,' and he pushed his remaining frames out of her reach. He said that is what he always supplies. You should have stipulated sky broom wood in the contract if that's what you wanted.

Of course it would be what I wanted, young man. The very best is none too good for my children." Is there any available in the Hold?" he asked. At least with sky broom you could clean off unsatisfactory' work without the risk of damaging the surface.

Of course.

That was his first mistake. Nevertheless, at that point he was still eager to do a proper job to the best of his abilities.

However, what sky broom there was turned out to be substantial lumber, being cured for furniture, and not thin enough to be used for miniatures: miniatures' which were now twice the ordinary size.

High on the list of unsatisfactory' were the poses of the children, although these had been suggested by the Lady Holder herself.

Chaldon doesn't look at all natural,' Lady Nadona said.

Not at all. He looks so tense, hunching his shoulders like that.

Whyever did you not tell him to sit up straight?" lantine forbore to mention that he had done so frequently, and within Lady Nadona's hearing. And you've given him such an odious scowl.

Which had been Chaldon's natural' expression.

Standing?" he suggested, cringing at the thought of arguing any of them into standing for the sittings'. He'd had enough trouble getting them to sit still. They were, as Ussie had foreseen, not biddable and had such short attention spans that he could never get them to strike the right pose, or assume an even halfway cheerful expression.

And why on earth did you paint on such a small canvas'?

I'll need to use a magnifying glass,' Lady Nadona had said, holding Chaldon's likeness away from her as far as her arm would reach.

lantine had known enough about his patroness by then to suppress a remark about her farsightedness.

This is the customary size for a miniature - So you say,' she replied repressively. I want something I can see when I'm on the other side of the room.

As she was generally on the other side of her room' whenever her children were in her vicinity, the need was understandable. They were the messiest pre-adolescents Iantine had ever encountered: plump, since they were indolent by nature, dressed in ill-fitting apparel since the Hold's seamstress was not particularly adept, and constantly eating: generally something that ran, smeared or left crumbs on their chins and tunics. None of them bathed frequently enough and their hair was long, greasy and roughly cut. Even the two girls showed no feminine interest in their appearance. One had hacked her hair off with a knife . . .

except the long tress she wore down the back, strung with beads and little bells. The other had thick braids which were rarely redone unless whatever fastened the end had got lost.

lantine had struggled with the porcine Chaldon, had realized that the child could not be depicted naturally' and tried to retain enough resemblance so that others would know which child had been painted.

But his portrait was unsatisfactory'. Only the youngest, a sturdy lad of three who said nothing beyond No' and carried a stuffed toy with him from which he could not be parted, was deemed marginally satisfactory'. Actually the dirty bear' was the best part of Briskin's portrait.

lantine had tried to romanticize Luccha's unusual hairstyle and was told that she'd look better with proper hair' which he could certainly add in if he was any good at all. And why did she have such an awkward expression on her face, when Luccha had the sweetest smile and such a lovely disposition?

(Especially when she was busy trying to unite the Hold's cats by tying their tails together, Iantine had added mentally. Bitra Hold did not have a single unscathed animal, and the spit-boy said they'd lost seven dogs to accidents' that year already.) Luccha's mouth was set aslant in her face, the thin lips usually compressed in a sour line.

Lonada, the second daughter, had a pudding face, with small dark holes for eyes, and her father's nose: bad enough in a male, but fatal for a female.

lantine had also had to buy' a lock from the Hold steward to prevent his sleeping-furs from walking out of the narrow little cubicle in which he was quartered. He knew his packs had been searched the first day; probably several times by the variety of smeared fingerprints left on the paint pots. As he had brought nothing of real value with him - not having many possessions - he hadn't worried.

Holds usually had one light-fingered person, and the Hold steward usually knew who it was and retrieved what had gone astray from guests' rooms.

But when lantine found his paint pots left open to dry out, he protested. And paid' for a lock. Not that he felt all that secure, for if there was one key to that lock, there could be duplicates. But his furs did remain on his bed. And glad he was to have them, for the thin blanket supplied was holey and ought to have been torn up for rug lengths long since.

That was the least of his problems at Bitra Hold, however.

Having heard all that was wrong with the next set of miniatures he managed to produce, a third larger than the first, Iantine began to have a somewhat clearer grasp of just how the parents envisaged their offspring. On his fifth set, he nearly won the accolade of satisfactory'. Nearly Then the children, one after another, succumbed to an infant disease that resulted in such a rash that they could not possibly sit'.

Well, you'd better do something to earn your keep, Chalkin told his contract portraitist when Lady Nadona had announced the children were isolated.

The contract says I will have room and board - - -, Chalkin held up a thick forefinger, his smile not the least bit humorous. When you are honouring that contract - But the children are sick Chalkin had shrugged. That's neither here nor there. You are unable to honour the specific conditions of the contract.

Therefore you are not entitled to be fed and housed at the Hold's expense. Of course, I can always deduct your leisure time from the fee . . . The smile deepened vindictively.

Leisure . . . lantine had been so enraged that the protest burst from him before he could suppress it. No wonder, he thought, shaking with the control he had to enforce on himself, no-one else at Hall Domaize would sign with Bitra.

Well,' Chalkin went on, as if he were a reasonable man, what else does one call it if you are not engaged in the lab ours which you are contracted for?" lantine had to wonder if Chalkin knew how necessary it was for him to earn the exact fee promised. Iantine had held no conversations with anyone in the Hold; they were so sullen and uncommunicative a group at their best - which was usually at mealtimes - that he hoped he'd be spared them at their worst. He had steadfastly refused to have a little game' with cooks or guards, which accounted for a good deal of the general animosity towards him. So how would anyone know anything about his personal life or his reasons for working here?

So, instead of already being on his way home with a satisfactory contract fulfilled and the marks for the transfer fee heavy in hi pouch, lantine spent his leisure' time touching up the faces of Chalkin's ancestors in the main Hall murals.

Good practice for you, I'm sure,' Chalkin had said, all too amiably, as he made his daily inspection of this project. You'll be better equipped to do satisfactory portraits of this generation." Pig faces, all of them, with the ancestral bulbous nose, lantine noticed.

Oddly enough, one or two of the ancestresses had been very pretty girls, far too young and attractive for the mean-mouthed men they had been contracted to. Too bad the male genes dominated.

Of course, lantine had had to make up batches of the special paints required for mural work, having initially had no idea that such would be required. He also found his supplies of the oil paints drastically reduced by the repeated unsatisfactory' portraits. He had the choice of sending back to Hall Domaize for additional supplies and paying transport charges, plus having to wait for them to reach him - or finding the raw materials and manufacturing the colours himself - which was the better option.

How much?" he exclaimed in shock when the head cook told him what he'd have to pay for the eggs and oil he needed to mix into his pigments.

Yiss, an' that doan include cost of hiring the equipment,' the cook added, sniffing. The man had a perpetually running nose, sometimes dripping down his upper lip. But not, Iantine devoutly hoped, into whatever he was in the process of preparing.

I have to hire bowls and jars from you?" Iantine wondered how the cook could have become infected with Chalkin's greed.

Well, if I ain't using em, and you is, you should pay for the use, seems like." He sniffed so deeply Iantine wondered there could be any mucus left in his sinus cavities. Shoulda brought yer stuff with ye if ye'd need it. Lord Holder sees you usin' things from his kitchen and one of us'll be paying for it. Won't be me!" And he sniffed again, shrugging one dirty white shoulder as emphasis.

I came with adequate supplies and equipment for the work I was hired to do,' Iantine said, curbing an intense desire to shove the man's face in the thin soup he was stirring.

So?" lantine had walked, stiff-legged with fury, out of the kitchen.

He tried to tell himself that he was learning, the very hardest way, how to deal with the client.

Finding the raw materials for his pigments had proved nearly as difficult since it was, after all, coming on to deep winter here in the Bitran hills. He discovered a hefty hunk of stone with a rounded end that would do as a pestle, and then a hollowed-out rock that would act as a mortar. He had found a whole hillside of the sabsab bush whose roots produced a yellow colour; enough raw cobalt to get blue, and the paw berry leaves that boiled up one of the finest pure reds with neither tint nor tinge of orange or purple. With the greatest of luck he also came across ochre mud. Rather than rent' containers, he used chipped crockery he unearthed from the midden heap. He did have to pay the price of best oil for the substandard stuff which was all the cook would sell him.

And that mark, he was sure, would never be passed on to Lord Chalkin as fee.

He managed to get enough saucers or mugs - they used a very cheap pottery in Bitra Hold - to hold the different colours he needed. He hadn't quite finished the repair work when Chaldon recovered sufficiently from the rash to be able to sit/ stand once more.

Chaldon had lost weight during the fever which accompanied the emergence of the rash. He was also lethargic and, as long as Iantine could think up funny stories to tell as he worked, he stayed reasonably still. Calling himself the worst kind of panderer, Iantine made the boy resemble the best looking of the ancestors he'd re limned The boy was certainly pleased and ran off to find his mother, shouting that he did look like Greatgranddaddy, just as she always said he did.

The same ploy did not quite work on Luccha's portrait when she had recovered. Her skin was sallower, she'd lost hair and too much weight to improve her undistinguished looks. While he had aimed for her great-grandmother thrice removed, she didn't have the right facial structure and even he had to admit the result was unsatisfactory.

Her illness,' he'd mumbled when Chalkin and Nadona recited the long catalogue of dissimilarities between their daughter and the portrait.

He did better with Lonada and Briskin who, several kilos lighter, had the look of his great-uncle - pinch-faced, lantern jawed and big-eared. Iantine had judiciously reduced the size of those ears even as he wondered what artist had got away with such unflattering appendages on great-uncle.

He redid Luccha's after the other two: she'd put on some weight and her colour was better - not much, but better. And he set her eyes wider in her face, which improved her no end.

Too bad it couldn't be done to the model. He vaguely remembered that the First Settlers had been able to remodel noses and bob ears and stuff like that.

So, grudgingly and after making him touch up each of the four not-so miniature paintings to the point where he was ready to break something - their heads for preference the Lord and Lady Holder considered the four paintings satisfactory. The final critique had lasted well into the night, which was dark and stormy: the winds audible even through the three-metre-thick cliff walls.

So, as he descended wearily but in great relief to the lower floor cubicle, he became aware of the intense chill in this level.

The temperature in the big Hall had been somewhat warmed by the roaring fires in the four hearths, but there was no heating down here.

In fact, it was so cold that lantine did no more than loosen his belt and remove his boots before crawling on to the hard surface that was supposed to be a mattress. It looked and felt like something recycled from the ships of the First Crossing. He curled up in the furs, more grateful than ever that he'd brought his own, and fell asleep.

Arctic temperatures swirling about his face roused him. His face was stiff with cold and, despite the warmth of his furs, when he tried to stretch his body his muscles resisted. He had a crick in his neck and he wondered if he'd moved at all during the night. Certainly it was cold enough to have stayed in the warm of the furs. But he had to relieve himself.

He crammed his feet into boot leather that was rigid with ice and, wrapping his furs tightly about himself, made his way down the corridor to the toilet. His breath was a plume of white, his cheeks and nose stung by the cold. He managed his business and returned to his room only long enough to throw on his thickest woollen jumper. With half a mind to throw his furs around him for added warmth, he ran up the several flights of stone steps, past walls that dripped with moisture.

lIe paused at the first window on the upper level: solidly snowed closed. Then he went up the next short flight and opened the door into what should have been the relatively warmer kitchen area.

Had every fire in the place gone out overnight? Had the spit-boys frozen on their bed-shelf? As he turned his head in their direction, his glance caught at the window. Snow was piled up against the first hand's breadth of it. He moved closer and looked out at the courtyard, but it was all one expanse of unbroken snow. Indeed, where the courtyard should have stepped down to the roadway the snow was even, concealing any depression where the road should have been. No-one moved outside. Nor were there any tracks in the expanse of snow-covered court to suggest that anyone had tried to come in from one of the outer holds.

Just what I needed,' lantine said, totally depressed by what he saw. I could be trapped here for weeks!" Paying for room and board.

If only the kids hadn't come down with measles . . . If only he hadn't already freshened up the murals - - How would he survive? Would he have anything left of his original fee - that had seemed so generous by the time he could leave this miserable Hold?

Later that morning, when half-frozen people had begun to cope with the effects of the blizzard, he struck another bargain with the Holder Lord and Lady: and very carefully did he word it. Two full-sized portraits, each a square metre on sky broom wood to be supplied by Lord Chalkin, one of Lady Nadona and one of Lord Chalkin, head and shoulders in Gather dress, with all materials and equipment to make additional pigments supplied by the Hold; maintenance for himself and quarters on an upper floor, with morning and evening fuel for a fire on the hearth.

He completed Lady Nadona's portrait without too much difficulty she would sit still, loved nothing better than to have a valid excuse for doing nothing. Half-way through the sitting, though, she wanted to change her costume, believing the red did not flatter her complexion as well as the blue.

It didn't, but he talked her out of changing and subtly altered her naturally florid complexion to a kinder blush, and darkened the colour of her pale eyes so that they seemed to dominate her face. By then, he'd heard enough of the supposed resemblance between herself and Luccha so that he improved on it, giving her a more youthful appearance.

When she wanted to change the collar of her dress, he improvised one he remembered seeing in an Ancient's portrait - a lacy froth which hid much of the loose skin of her neck. Not that he had painted that in, but the lace softened the whole look of her.

He had not been so lucky with Chalkin. The man was psychologically unable to sit still - tapping his fingers, swinging one leg as he crossed and uncrossed them, twitching his shoulders or his face, making it basically impossible to obtain a set pose.

lantine was nearly desperate now to finish and leave this dreadful place before another snowstorm. The young portraitist wondered if Chalkin's delays, and the short periods in which he would deign to sit, were yet another ploy to delay him - and rake back some of the original fee. Though Chalkin had even invited him to come into the gaming rooms - the warmest and most elegant rooms in the Hold - lantine had managed to excuse himself somehow or other.

Do sit still, Lord Chalkin, I'm working on your eyes and I cannot if you keep moving them about in your face,' lantine said, rather more sharply than he had ever addressed the Lord Holder before.

I beg your pardon,' said Chalkin, jerking his shoulders about angrily.

Lord Chalkin, unless you wish to be portrayed with your eyes crossed, sit still for five minutes! I beg of you." Something of Iantine's frustration must have come across because Chalkin not only sat still, he glared at the portraitist.

And for longer than five minutes.

Working as fast as he could, Iantine completed the delicate work on the eyes. He had subtly widened them in the man's face and cleared up the oedemic pouches which sagged below them. He had made the jowly face less porcine and subtracted sufficient flesh from the bulbous nose to give it a more Roman look. He had also widened and lifted the shoulders to give a more athletic appearance, and darkened the hair.

Further, he had meticulously caught the fire of the many jewelled rings.

Actually, they dominated the painting, which he felt would find favour with Lord Chalkin who seemed to have more rings than days of the year.

There!" he said, putting down his brush and standing back from the painting, satisfied in himself that he had done the best job possible: that is, the best job that would prove satisfactory' and allow him to leave this ghastly Hold.

It's about time,' Chalkin said, slipping down from the chair and stamping over to view the result.

Iantine watched his face, seeing that flash of pleasure before Chalkin's usual glum expression settled back over his features.

Chalkin peered more closely, seeming to count the brush strokes although there were none, for lantine was too competent a technician to have left any.

Watch the paint. It's not yet dry,' Iantine said quickly, raising his arm to ward off Chalkin's touch.

Humph,' Chalkin said, shrugging his shoulders to settle his heavy jerkin. He affected to be diffident, but the way he kept looking at his own face told lantine that the man was finally pleased.

Well? Is it satisfactory?" asked lantine, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

Not bad, not bad but.. - and Chalkin once again put out a finger. You will not smear the paint, Lord Chalkin,' said lantine, fearing just that and then another session to repair the damage.

You're a rude fellow, painter.

My title is artist, Lord Chalkin, and do tell me if this portrait is satisfactory or not!

Chalkin gave him a quick nervous glance, one facial muscle twitching. Even the Lord of Bitra Hold knew when he had pushed someone too hard.

It's not bad Is it satisfactory, Lord Chalkin?" lantine put all the pent-up frustration and anxiety into that question.

Chalk in shifted one shoulder, screwed up his face with indecision and then hastily composed his features in the more dignified pose of the portrait before him.

Yes, I believe it is satisfactory.

Then,' and now lantine took Lord Chalkin by the elbow and steered him towards the door, let us to your office and complete the contract." Now, see here .

If it is satisfactory, I have honoured that contract and you may now settle with me for the miniatures,' Iantine said, guiding the man down the cold corridor and to his office. He tapped his foot impatiently as Chalkin took the keys from his inside pocket and opened the door.

The fire within was so fierce that Iantine felt sweat blossom on his forehead. At Chalkin's abrupt gesture, he turned around while the man fiddled with wherever it was he had his strongbox. He heard, with infinite relief, the turn of the metal lock and then silence. A slamming of a lid.

Here you are,' said Chalkin coldly.

Iantine counted out the marks, sixteen of them, Farmermarks, but good enough since he would be using them in Benden which didn't mind Farmer-marks.

The contracts?" Chalkin glared but he unlocked the drawer and extracted them, almost flinging them across the desk at lantine, who signed his name and turned them back to Chalkin.

Use mine,' Iantine said when Chalkin made a show of finding a good pen in the clutter on his desk.

Chalkin scrawled his name.

Date it,' lantine added, wishing to have no complaint at ,-i later time.

You want too much, painter.

Artist, Lord Chalkin,' Iantine said with a humourless smile and turned to leave. At the door he turned again. And don't touch the painting for forty-eight hours. I will not come back if you smear it.

It was satisfactory when we left the room, so keep it that way.

lantine returned to collect his good brushes, but left what remained of the paints he had had to make. Last night, in a hopeful mood, he had packed everything else. Now, he took the stairs up two and three at a time, stored his brushes carefully, stuffed the signed and dated contracts into his pack shrugged into his coat, rolled up his sleeping-furs, looped both packs in one hand and was half-way down the stairs again when he met Chalkin ascending.

You cannot leave now,' Chalkin protested, grabbing his arm. You have to wait until my wife has seen and approved my portrait.

Oh, no, I don't, said lantine, wrenching free of the restraining hand.

He was out of the main door before Chalkin could say another word, and ran down the roadway between the soiled snow banks. If he was benighted on the road in the middle of a snowstorm, he would still be safer than staying one more hour at Bitra Hold.

Luckily for him, he found shelter during that next storm in a woodsman's holding some klicks away from the main Hold.

Telgar Weyr, Fort Hold Guess what I found?" P'tero cried, ushering his guest into the kitchen cavern. Tisha, he's half frozen and starving of the hunger,' the young green rider added, hauling the tall fur wrapped figure towards the nearest hearth and pushing him into a chair. He deposited the packs he was carrying on to the table.

Klah, for the love of little dragons, please .

Two women came running, one with klah and the other with a hastily filled bowl of soup. Tisha came striding across the cavern, demanding to know what the problem was, who -had P'tero rescued and from where.

No-one should be out in weather like this,' she said as she reached the table and grabbed the victim's wrist to get a pulse.

All but froze, he is." - -- Tisha pulled aside the furs wrapped about his neck and - then let him take the cup. He cradled the klah in reddened - fingers, blowing before he took his first cautious sip. He was also shivering uncontrollably.

I spotted an SOS on the snow - lucky for him that the sun made shadows or I'd never have seen it,' P'tero was saying, thornughly pleased with himself. Found him below Bitra Hold...

Poor man,' Tisha interjected.

Oh, you're so right there,' P'tero said with ironic fervour, and he'll never return. Not that he's told me all . . . and P'tero flopped to a chair when someone brought him a cup of klah. Got out of Chalkin's clutches intact . . . and P'tero grinned impishly, and then survived three nights in a Bitran woodsman's hold --- with only a half cup of old oats to sustain him - - Through his explanation, Tisha ordered hot water-bottles, warmed blankets and, taking a good look at the man's fingers, numb weed and frostbite salve.

Don't think they're more than cold,' she said, removing one of his hands from its fevered grip on the hot cup and spreading the fingers out, lightly pinching the tips. No, cold enough but not harmed. Thank you, thank you," the man said, returning his fingers to the warm cup. I got so cold stamping out that emergency code And out of doors in such weather with no gloves,' Tisha chided him.

When I left Domaize Hall for Bitra Hold, it was only autumn,' he said in a grating voice.

Autumn?" Tisha echoed, widening her fine eyes in surprise.

How long were you at Bitra Hold then?" Seven damned weeks,' the man replied, spitting out the words in a disgusted tone of voice. I had thought a week at the most Tisha laughed, her belly heaving under her broad apron.

What under the stars took you to Bitra in the first place?

Painter, are you?" she added.

How'd you know?" The man regarded her with surprise.

Still have paint under your nails Iantine inspected them and his cold-reddened face flushed a deeper red.

I didn't even stop to wash,' he said.

As well you didn't, considering the price Chalkin charges for such luxuries as soap,' she said, chuckling again.

The women returned with the things Tisha had ordered.

While they ministered to the warming of him, he clung with one hand or the other to the klah. And then to the soup cup.

ijis furs, which had kept him from freezing to death, were taken to dry at one fire; his boots were removed and his toes checked for frostbite but he had been lucky there, too, so they were coated with salve for good measure and then wrapped in warm to welling while warmed blankets were snugged about his body. Salve was applied to his hands and face and then he was allowed to finish the hot food.

Now, your name, and whom shall we contact to say that you've been found?" Tisha asked when all this had been done.

I'm Iantine,' and then he added in wry pride, portraitist from Hall Domaize. I was contracted to do miniatures of Chalkin's children Your first mistake,' said Tisha, chuckling.

lantine flushed. You're so right, but I needed the fee.

Did you come away with any of it?" P'tero asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Oh, that I did,' the artist replied so fiercely that everyone grinned. Then he sighed. But I did have to part with an eighth at the woodsman's hold. He had little enough to share, but was willing to do so.

At a profit, I'm sure lantine considered that for a moment. I was lucky to find any place to wait out the storm. And he did share He shrugged briefly, and a dejected look crossed his features as he sighed. Anyway, it was he who suggested I make a sign in the snow to attract any dragon rider I'm just lucky one saw me." He nodded thanks to P'tero.

No problem,' the blue dragon rider said airily. Glad I came." He leaned towards Tisha across the table. He'd've been frozen solid in another day!" Were you long waiting?"

Two days after the storm ended, but I spent the nights with ol' Fendler. If you're hungry enough, even tunnel snake tastes good,' lantine added.

Ah, the poor laddie,' said Tisha and called out orders for a double portion of stew to be brought immediately, and bread and sweetening and some of the fruit that had been sent up from Ista.

By the time lantine had finished the meal, he felt he had made up for the last four days. His feet and hands were tingling despite the numb weed and salve. When he stood to go and relieve himself, he wobbled badly and clutched at the chair for support.

Have a care, lad, filling the stomach was only half your problem,' Tisha said, moving to support him with far more alacrity than her bulk would suggest. She gestured for P'tero to lend a hand.

I need to . . . lantine began.

Ach, it's on the way to the sleeping cavern,' Tisha told him and drew one of his arms over her shoulder. She was as tall as he.

P'tero took up the packs again and between them, they got him to the toilet room. And then into a bed in an empty cubicle. Tisha checked his feet again, applied another coat of numb weed and tiptoed out. Iantine only made sure that his packs - and the precious fee were in the room with him before he fell deeply asleep.

While he slept, messages went out - to Hall Domaize and to Benden Weyr and Hold, since lantine nominally looked to Benden. Although lantine had taken no lasting harm, M'shall recognized yet another instance of Chalkin taking unfair advantage. Irene had already sent in a substantial list of abuses and irregularities in Chalkin's dealings generally with folk who had no recourse against his dictates. He held no court in which difficulties could be aired, and had no impartial arbiters to make decisions.

The big traders, who could be counted on for impartial comment, bypassed Bitra and could cite many examples of unfair dealings since Chalkin had assumed the Holding fifteen years before. The few small traders who ventured in Bitra rarely returned.

Following that Oather and its decision to consider deposing Chalkin, M'shall had his sweep riders check in every minor bold to learn if Chalkin had duly informed his people of the imminence of Thread. None had, although Lord Chalkin had increased his tithe on every household. The manner in which he was conducting this extra tithe suggested that he was amassing supplies for his own good, not that of the Hold.

Those in more isolated situations would certainly have a hard time obtaining even basic food supplies. That constituted a flagrant abuse of his position as Lord Holder.

When Paulin read M'shall's report, he asked if Chalkin's holders would speak out against him. M'shall had to report that his initial survey of the minor holders indicated a severe lack of civic duty.

Chalkin had his folk so cowed, none would accuse him - especially this close to a Pass, for he had still had the power to turn objectors out of their holds.

They may change their minds once Thread has started,' K'vin remarked to Zulaya.

Too late, I'd say, for any decent preparations to be made., K'vin shrugged. He's really not our concern - for which I, for one, am thankful. At least we rescued Jantine.

Zulaya gave a wry chuckle. That poor lad! Starting his professional career at Bitra? Not the best place.

Maybe that's all he could aspire to,' K'vin suggested.

Not if he's from Hall Domaize,' Zulaya said tartly. Wonder how long it'll take his hands to recover?" Thinking of a new portrait?" K'vin asked, amused.

Well, he's down an eighth of what he needs,' she said.

K'vin gave her a wide-eyed look. You wouldn't.

Of course I wouldn't,' she said with an edge to her voice.

He needs something in his pocket of his own. I admire a lad who'd endure Bitra for any reason. And lantine's was an honourable one in wanting to pay the transfer fee." Wear that red Hatching dress when you sit for him,' K'vin said. Then he rubbed his chin. You know, I might have my portrait done, too." Zulaya gave him a long look. The boy may find it as hard to leave Telgar Weyr as it was Bitra.

With a much fuller pouch and no maintenance subtracted And soap and hot water and decent food,' Zulaya said.

According to Tisha, he'll need feeding up. He's skin and bones.

When the singing woke lantine, he was totally disoriented.

No-one had sung a note at Bitra Hold. And he was warm!

The air was redolent of good eating odours, too. He sat up.

Hands, feet and face were stiff, but the tingling was gone. And he was exceedingly hungry.

The curtain across the cubicle rustled and a boy's head popped through.

You're awake, Artist lantine?" the lad asked.

Indeed, I am,' and lantine looked around for his clothes.

Someone had undressed him and he didn't see his own clothes.

I'm to help you if you need it,' the boy said, pushing half-way through the curtains. Tisha laid out clean clothes." He wrinkled a snub nose. Yours were pretty ripe, she said.

lantine chuckled. They prbably were. 1 ran out of soap for washing three weeks ago.

You wuz at Bitra. They charge for everything there, and the boy threw up both arms in disgust. I'm Leopol,' he added.

Then he lifted the soft slippers from the pile on the StOol.

Tisha said you'd better wear these, not your boots. And you're to use the salve first He held up the lidded jar.

Dinner's ready." Leopol then licked his lips.

And you must wait your meal until I'm ready, huh'?" Leopol nodded solemnly and then grinned. I don't mind.

I'll get more because I waited." Is food in short supply at this Weyr?" lantine asked jokingly as he began to dress in the clean gear.

Odd how important simple things, like freshly laundered clothing, assumed the level of luxury when you've had to do without.

Leopol helped him spread the salve on his feet. They were still tender to the touch and even the act of applying the salve made them suddenly itchy. Fortunately the numb weed or whatever it was, reduced that sensation.

When he had relieved himself again and gingerly washed face and hands, he and Leopol made their way to the Lower Cavern where the evening meal was in progress.

The lad led him to a side table near the hearth which had been set for two. Instantly cooks descended with plates overflowing with food, wine for him and klah for Leopol.

There now, Artist man,' the cook said, nodding appreciation as lantine attacked the roast meat, eat first and then the Weyrleaders would like a few words with you, if you're not too tired." lantine murmured thanks and understanding and addressed himself single-mindedly to his food. How long had it been since he'd eaten a decent meal?

He would have had additional servings of the main course, but his stomach felt uneasy: too much good food after several days of semi-fasting, probably. Leopol brought him a large serving of the sweet course, but he couldn't finish it all because the back of his throat felt raw and sore. He would have gone back to his bed then, but he saw the Weyrleaders advancing on him. Leopol made a discreet exit, grinning reassurance at him. Ian tine tried to stand in courtesy to his hosts, but he wobbled on his numbed feet and dropped back into the chair.

We don't stand much on ceremony here,' Zulaya said, gesturing for him to stay seated as K'vin pulled out one chair for her.

He carried the wine-skin from which he filled all the glasses.

lantine took a polite sip - it was a nice crisp wine - but even the one sip made his stomach feel sourer.

Messages have been sent, and acknowledgments received, that you've been rescued,' K'vin said, grinning over the last word. Master Domaize was becoming worried, so we saved him a messenger to Bitra." That's very good of you, Zulaya, K'vin,' lantine said, thankful that part of his training at Hall Domaize had included knowing the important names in every Hold, Weyr and Hall.

I certainly appreciated P'tero's rescue." Zulaya grinned. He'll be dining out on that one for the rest of the year. But it proves the wisdom of sweep riding even during the Interval." You should know,' lantine blurted out, that Lord Chalkin doesn't believe there will be a Pass." Of course not,' K'vin replied easily. It doesn't suit him to.

Bridgely and M'shall would like a report from you, though, concerning your visit there." You mean, there's something that can be done about him?" lantine was amazed. Lord Holders were autonomous within their borders; he hadn't known there'd be any recourse.

He may do himself in,' Zulaya said with a grim twist of her lips.

That would be wonderful,' said lantine. Only,' and now honesty forced him to admit this, he didn't really do anything to me.

Our Weyr artist may not be trained,' K'vin said, but Waine informed me that it doesn't take seven weeks to do four miniatures I actually painted twenty-two to get four that they liked,' lantine explained, clearing his throat grimly. The hooker in the contract was the word "satisfactory" Ah,' Zulaya and K'vin said in chorus.

I ran out of paint and canvas because I brought only what I thought I'd need. He lifted his hands, then rubbed them because they were beginning to itch again. Then the children all got measles and so, rather than have anything deducted from the fee for room and board, I agreed to freshen up the Hold murals . . . only I hadn't brought that sort of paint and had to manufacture the colours .

Did he charge you for the use of the equipment?" Zulaya asked to lantine's astonishment.

How did you know?" When she only laughed and waved at him to continue his telling, lantine went on, So I excavated what I needed in the midden Good for you Zulaya clapped her hands, delighted by his resourcefulness, Fortunately, most of the raw materials for pigments are readily available. You only have to find them and make the colours up. Which I'd have to do anyhow. Master Domaize was good about passing on techniques like that.

Then I finally got them to accept the miniatures, which weren't exactly miniature size any more, by the way, just before the first blizzard snowed me in." lantine flushed; his narrative showed him to be such a ninny.

So? What did you contract for then?" Zulaya shot K'vin a knowing look.

I was a bit wiser. Or so I thought,' he said with a grimace and then told them the clauses he'd insisted on.

He had you on the drudges' level at Bitra?" Zulaya was appalled.

And you a diploma'd artist? I would protest about that! There are certain courtesies which most Holds, Halls and Weyrs accord a student of a craft, and certainly to an artist!" So, when Lord Chalkin finally accepted his portrait, I made tracks away as fast as I could!" K'vin clapped him on the shoulder, grinning at the fervour with which that statement came out.

Not that my conditions improved that much,' lantine added quickly and then grinned, until P'tero rescued me." His throat kept clogging up and he had to clear it again. I want to thank you very much for that. I hope I didn't keep him from proper duties.

No, no,' K'vin said. Mind you, I'm not all that sure why he was over Bitra, but it's as well he was.

How are your hands'?" Zulaya asked, looking down at him as he washed' his itching fingers together.

I shouldn't rub the skin, should I?" Zulaya spoke over her shoulder. Leopol, get the numb weed for lantine, please." The young artist hadn't noticed the boy's discreet presence, but he was glad he didn't have to walk all the way to the cubicle to get the salve.

It's just the after-effects of cold,' he said, looking at his fingers, and noticing what Tisha had - pigment under the nails. He curled his fingers, ashamed to be at a Weyr table with dirty hands.

And a deep shiver went down his spine.

I was wondering, lantine,' Zulaya began, if you'd feel up to doing another portrait or two? The Weyr pays the usual rates, and no extras charged against you.

lantine protested. I'd gladly do your portrait, Weyrwoman.

It is of yourself you were speaking, isn't it?" That first shiver was followed by another which he did his best to mask.

You'll do it only if you are paid a proper fee, young man,' Zulaya said sternly.

But No buts,' K'vin put in. What with preparations for a Pass, neither Zulaya nor I have had the time to commission proper portraits.

However, since you're here . . . and willing?" I'm willing, all right, but you don't know my work and I'm only just accredited Zulaya caught his hands in hers, for he'd been wildly gesticulating in both eagerness and an attempt to disguise another spasm.

Artist lantine, if you managed to do four miniatures and two formal portraits, and refresh murals for Chalkin, you're more than qualified. Didn't you know that it took Macartor five months to finish Chalkin's wedding-day scene?" And he had to borrow marks from an engineer to pay off the last of his "debt"?" K'vin added. Here's Waine to greet you. But you're not to start work again until you're completely recovered from the cold." Oh, I'm recovered, I'm wcovered, lantine said, standing up as the Weyrleaders did, determined to control the next set of shiverings.

After they had introduced him to the little man, Waine, they left him, circulating to other tables as the Weyr relaxed.

There was singing and guitar playing from one side of the room, cheerful noises, above a general level of easy conversation. That was something else which lantine only now realized had been totally absent at Bitra Hold: music, talk, people relaxing after a day's work.

Heard you ran afoul a' Chalkin?" Waine said, grinning and ducking his head. Then he brought from behind his back a sheaf of large-sized paper sheets, neatly tied together, and a handful of pencils. Thought you might need em, like,' he said shyly. Heard tell you used up all at Bitra.

Thank you,' lantine replied, running his fingers appreciatively over the fine sheets and noticing that the pencils were of different weights of carbon. How much do I owe you?" Waine laughed, showing gaps in his teeth. You been at Bitra too long, Artist man. I've colours, too, but not many.

Don't do more'n basics." Then let me make you a range of paints,' lantine said gratefully, gritting his teeth against yet another onslaught of ague. You know where to find the raw stuff around here, and I'll show you how I make the tints." Waine grinned toothlessly again. That's a right good trade.

He held out a hand and nearly crushed lantine's fingers with his enthusiasm. But he caught the paroxysm of almost uncontrollable shivering which lantine could not hide.

Hey, man, you're cold.

I can't seem to stop shivering, for all that I'm on top of the fire,' and lantine had to surrender to the shaking.

TIS HA lantine was embarrassed by Waine's bellow for assistance, but he didn't resist when he was bundled back into his quarters and the medic summoned while Tisha ordered more furs, hot water-bottles, aromatics to be steeped in hot water to make breathing easier. He made no resistance to the medication that was immediately prescribed for him because, by then, his head had started to ache. So did his bones.

The last thing he remembered before he drifted off to an uneasy sleep was what Maranis, the medic, said to Tisha.

Let's hope they all have it at Bitra for giving it to him!" Much later Leopol told him that Tisha had stayed by his bedside three nights while he burned of the mountain fever he had caught, compounding his illness by exposure on the cold slopes. Maranis felt that the old woodsman might be a carrier for the disease: himself immune, but able to transmit the fever.

lantine was amazed to find his mother there when he woke from the fever. Her eyes were red with crying and she burst into tears again when she realized he was no longer delirious.

Leopol also told him that Tisha had insisted she be sent for when his fever lasted so long.

To lantine's astonishment, his mother didn't seem as pleased to receive the transfer fee as he was to give it.

Your life isn't worth the fee,' she told him finally when he was afraid she was displeased with the missing eighth mark he'd had to give the woodsman. And he nearly killed you for that eighth." He's a good lad you have for a son,' Tisha said with an edge to her voice, working that hard to earn money from Chalkin.

Oh yes,' his mother hastily agreed as she suddenly realized she ought to be more grateful. Though why ever you sought to please that old skinflint is beyond me.

The fee was right,' lantine said weakly.

Don't take on so, now, Ian,' Tisha said when his mother had to return to the sheep hold She was far more worried about you than about the marks. Which shows her heart's in the right place. Worry makes people act odd, you know." She patted lantine's shoulder. She wanted to take you home and nurse you there,' she went on reassuringly.

But couldn't risk your lungs in the cold of between. I don't think she liked us taking care of you!" She grinned. Mothers never trust others, you know.

lantine managed a grin back at Tisha. I guess that's it." It was Leopol who restored lantine's peace of mind.

You gotta real nice mother, you know,' he said, sitting on the end of the bed. Worried herself sick about leaving until P'tero promised to convey her again if you took any turn for the worst. She'd never ridden a dragon before.

lantine chuckled. No, I don't think she has. Must have frightened her.

Not as much,' and now Leopol cocked a slightly dirty finger at the artist, as you being so sick she had to be sent for. But she was telling P'tero how happy your father would be to have those marks you earned. Real happy. And she near deafened P'tero, shouting about how she'd always known you'd be a success, and to get the whole fee out of Chalkin was quite an achievement.

She did?" lantine perked up. His mother had been bragging about him?

She did indeed,' Leopol said, giving an emphatic nod to his head.

Leopol seemed to know a great deal about a lot of matters in the Weyr. He also never seemed to mind being sent on errands as lantine made a slow convalescence.

Master Domaize paid him a visit, too. And it was Leopol w.h?

told the convalescent why the Master had made such a visit.

That Lord Chalkin sent a complaint to Master Domaize that you had skived out of the Hold without any courtesy and he was seriously considering lodging a demand for the return of some of the fee since you were so obviously very new at your art, and the fee had been for a seasoned painter, not a young upstart." Leopol grinned at lantine's furious reaction.

Oh, don't worry. Your master wasn't born yesterday. M'shall himself brought him to Bitra Hold, and they said that there was not a thing wrong with any of the work you'd done for that Lord Chalkin." He cocked his head to one side, regarding lantine with a calculating look.

Seems like there's lot of people wanting to sit their portraits with you. Didja know that?" lantine shook his head, trying to absorb the injustice of Chalkin's objection. He was speechless with fury. Leopol grinned again.

Don't worry, lantine. Chalkin's the one should worry, treating you like that. Your Master and the Benden Weyrleader gave out to that Lord Holder about it, too. You're qualified, and entitled to all the courtesies of which you got none at Bitra Hold. Good thing you didn't get sick until after Zulaya and K'vin had a chance to hear your side of the story.

Not that anyone would believe Chalkin, no matter what he says.

Did you know that even wherries won t roost in Bitra Hold?" Convalescence from the lung infection took time and lantine fretted at his weakness.

I keep falling asleep,' he complained to Tisha one morning when she arrived with his potion. How long do I have to keep taking this stuff?" Until Maranis hears clear lungs in you,' she said in her no-nonsense tone. Then she handed him the sketch paper and pencils that Waine had given him on his first night in the Weyr. Get your hand back in. At least doing what you're best at can be done sitting still.

It was good to have paper and pencil again. lt was good to look about the Lower Caverns and catch poses, especially when the poser didn't realize he was being sketched. And his eye had not lost its keenness, and if his fingers cramped now and then from weakness, strength gradually returned. He became unaware of the passage of time, nor did he notice people coming up behind him to see what he was drawing just then.

Waine arrived with mortar, pestle, oil, eggs and cobalt to make a good blue. The man had picked up bits of technique and procedures on his own, but picking things up here and there was no substitute for the concentrated drill which lantine had had: drills that he had once despised but now appreciated when he could see what resulted from the lack of them.

Winter had set in but on the first day of full sun, Tisha insisted on wrapping him up in a cocoon of furs to sit out in the Bowl for the good of fresh air'. As it was bath-time for the drago nets lantine was immediately fascinated by their antics and began to appreciate just how much hard work went into their nurture. It was also the first chance he'd ever had of seeing drago nets He knew the grace and power of the adult dragons and their awesome appearance. Now he saw the weyrlings as mischievous - even naughty, as one ducked her rider into the lake - and endlessly inventive. None of this last Hatching were ready to fly yet, but some of the previous clutch were beginning to take on adult duties. He had first-hand observation of their not-so-graceful performances.

The next day he saw P'tero and blue Ormonth in the focus of some sort of large class. As he wandered over, he saw that not only the weyrlings from the last three Hatchings were attending but also all youngsters above the age of twelve.

Ormonth had one wing extended and was gazing at it in an abstract fashion, as if he'd never seen it before. The expression was too much for the artist in lantine and he flipped open his pad and sketched the scene. P'tero noticed, but the class was being extremely attentive.

What T'dam was saying slowly reached through lantine's absorption with line and pose.

Now, records show us that the worst injuries occur on wing edges, especially if Thread falls in clumps and the partners are not sharp enough to avoid em. A dragon can fly with one third of his exterior sail damaged and T'dam ran his hand along the edge of Ormonth's wing.

However,' and T'dam looked up at Ormonth, if you would be good enough to close your wing slightly, Ormonth,' and the blue did so.

Thank you - T'dam had to stand slightly on tip-toe to reach the area of the inner wing. Injuries in here are far more serious as Thread can, depending on the angle of its fall, sear through the wing and into his body. This,' and he now ducked under the wing and tapped the side, is where the lungs are and injury here can even be fatal There was a gasp around the semi-circle of his students.

That's why you have to be sharp every instant you're in flight.

Go between the instant you even suspect you've been hit. -How do we know?" someone asked.

Ha!" T'dam propped his fists on his thick leather belt and paused. Dragons are very brave creatures for the most part, considering what we ask them to do. But,' and he stroked Ormonth in apology, they have exceedingly quick responses ... especially to pain.

You'll know!" He paused again. Some of you were here when Missath broke her sail bone, weren't you?" and he pointed around the group until he saw several hands raised. Remember how she squealed?" Went right through me like a bone cutter - a big lad said and shivered convulsively.

She was squealing the instant she lost her balance and actually before she snapped the bone. She knew she would hurt even as she fell.

Now, you don't have quite the same immediacy in Threadfall since you'll be high on adrenalin, but you'll know. So, this brings up a point that we make constantly in all training procedures, always, ALWAYS have a point to go to in your head. During Fall, it had better be the Weyr since everyone here,' and now the sweep of his hand included those Ian tine recognized as non-riders, will be ready to help.

DON'T make the mistake of coming in too low. Going between will have stopped Thread burrowing further into your dragon... A muted chorus of disgust and fearfulness greeted that concept. . . . So you can make as orderly a landing as injuries permit. What you don't need is a bad landing which could compound the original Thread score. Start encouraging your dragon as soon as you know he's been hit. Of course, you may be hit too, and I appreciate that, but you're riders and you can certainly control your own pain while seeing to your dragon's.

HE's the important one of you, remember.

Without him you don't function as a rider.

Now, the drill is,' and once again he swept his glance around his students, slather!" He picked up the wide brush F from the pail at his feet and began to ply it on Ormonth's wing: water, to judge the way it dripped. The blue regarded the operation with lightly whirling eyes.

Slather, slather, slather,' and T'dam emphasized each repetition with a long brush stroke. You can't put too much numb weed on a dragon's injuries to suit him or her,' and he grinned at the female green riders, and the injury will be numb in exactly three seconds at least the outer area. It does take time to penetrate through the epidermis to what passes for the germinative layer in a dragon's hide. So you may have to convince your dragon that he's not as badly hurt as he or she feels. Your injured dragon needs all the reassurance you can give... No matter how bad you think the injury looks, don't think that at the dragon. Tell him or her what a great brave dragon they are, and that the numb weed is working and the pain will go away.

Now, if a bone has been penetrated - - - Why, you've got P'tero to the life,' said an awed voice softly in lantine's ear, and he shot a glance at the tall lad standing behind him: M'leng, green Sith's rider, and P'tero's special friend. lantine had seen the two riders, always together, in the kitchen cavern. Oooh, is there any chance I could have that corner?" And he tapped the portion which contained P'tero and Ormonth.

M'leng was a handsome young man, with almond-shaped green eyes in an angular face. The light breeze in the Bowl ruffled tight dark brown curls on his head.

Since I owe P'tero my life, let me make a larger sketch for you Oh, would you?" And a smile animated M'leng's rather solemn face.

Can we settle a price? I've marks enough to do better than Chalkin did you!" He reached for his belt pouch.

lantine tried to demur, pleading he owed P'tero.

Tero was only doing his duty for once,' M'leng said with a touch of asperity. But I really would like a proper portrait of him. You know, what with Threadfall coming and all, I'd want to have something..." M'leng broke off, swallowed, and then reinforced his pleading.

I've to do a commission for the Weyrleaders . . . lantine said.

Is that the only one?" M'leng seemed surprised. I'd've thought everyone in the Weyr would be after you lantine grinned. Tisha hasn't released me from her care yet.

Oh, her,' and M'leng dismissed the head woman with a wave of his hand. She's so fussy at times. But there's nothing wrong with your hand or your eye . . . and that little pose of P'tero, leaning against Ormonth, why it's him!" lantine felt his spirits rise at the compliment because the sketch of the blue rider was good - better than the false ones he had done at Bitra Hold. He still cringed, remembering how he had allowed himself to compromise his standards by contriving such obsequious portrayals. He hoped he would never be in such a position again. M'leng's comment was balto his psyche.

I can do better But I like the pose. Can't you just do it? I mean, and M'leng looked everywhere but at lantine, I'd rather P'tero didn't know.. . I mean .

Is it to be a surprise for him?" No, it's to be for me!" And M'leng jabbed his bwastbone with his thumb, his manner defiant. So I'll have it At such intransigence, lantine was at a loss and hastily agreed before M'leng became more emotional. His eyes had filled and he set his mouth in a stubborn line.

I will, of course, but a sitting would help Oh, 1 can arrange that, so he still doesn't know. You're always sketching,' and that came out almost as an accusation.

Ian tine was - thanks to the lecture he had been overhearing considerably more aware now of the dangers dragons, and their riders, would shortly face. If M'leng was comforted by having a portrait of his friend, that was the least Ian tine could do.

This very night,' M'leng continued, single-minded in his objective, I'll see we sit close to where you usually do. I'll get him to wear his good tunic so you can paint him at his very best.

But suppose - . . lantine began, wondering how he could keep P'tero from knowing he was being done.

You do the portrait,' M'leng said, patting lantine's arm to still his objections. I'll take care of P'tero - - - and he added under his breath, as long as I have him." That little afterthought made the breath stop in lantine's throat. Was M'Leng so sure that P'tero would die'?

I'll do my best, M'leng, you may be sure of that!" Oh, I am,' said M'leng, tossing his head up so that the curls fell back from his face. He gave lantine a wry smile. I've been watching how you work, you see." He extended a hand soft with the oils riders used to tend their dragons. lantine took it and was astonished at the strength in the green rider's grip.

Waine said a good miniature - which is what I want,' and he patted his breast pocket to show the intended site of the painting, by an artist is priced at four marks. Is that correct?" lantine nodded, unable to speak for the lump in his throat.

Surely M'leng was dramatizing matters? Or was he? In the background, lantine could hear T'dam advising his listeners on the types and severity of injuries and the immediate aid to be given to each variety.

What a bizarre, and cruel, lecture to give to the weyrlings!

And yet - the thought stopped him - was it not kinder to be truthful now and ease the shock of what could possibly happen?

This evening?" M'leng said firmly.

This very evening, M'leng,' lantine agreed, nodding his head.

When the green rider had left him, it took the young artist some long moments before he could return to his sketching.

Well, this was one thing he could do as a gift to the Weyr for all their kindnesses to him - he could leave behind a graphic gallery of everyone currently living in Telgar Weyr!

Fort Hold

Classes were also being held that same day in Fort Hold. in the College assembly room, Corey, as Head Medic, was conducting a seminar for healers from all over Pern who had been flown in for a three-day clinic. This included a first-aid session dealing with both human and dragon injuries. She was assisted by the Fort Weyr medic, N'ran, who had originally studied animal medicine before he had inadvertently Impressed brown Galath. Galath, on this occasion, was outside, enjoying the sun, while a green dragon, who was small enough to fit in the Hall, was being used for demonstration purposes much as Ormonth was at Telgar Weyr.

Now we have been able to duplicate the records of Doctors Tomlinson, Marchane and Lao which include some fading photos of actual injuries. Lunch is fortunately sufficiently in the future,' she said with a quirky smile. Then her expression turned sober. The verbal descriptions are worse, but it's necessary to impress on all those who have to deal with a man began and his ground injuries how incredibly fast,' she ticked off one finger, how horrendous Thread is,' another and then with a sigh, and how quickly we must act to . her pause was longer now, . . . to limit suffering.

Murmurs answered her and she could see that some of the audience had paled. Others looked defiant.

From what I, and my staff,' and she indicated those in the front seat, have determined, there is little option. The alternative of getting into cold between as the dragons can is not available to us .

. . Yes?" Why not? If that's an alternative . . -.

For them, not us,' she said firmly. Because all the records emphasize the speed with which Thread... consumes organic material.

Too swiftly to call a dragon, even if any were available, in your locale. A whole cow goes in less than two minutes.

Why, that's not even time to voice trailed off.

Precisely,' Corey agreed. If a limb is scored, there's the chance it could be amputated before the organism spreads over the body Shards! You can't just . . . another man began.

If survival means loss of just a limb, it can be done.

But only if you're right there . Corey recognized him as a practitioner in a large hold in Nerat.

And many of us will be right there,' Corey said firmly, with the ground crews, sharing their dangers and hopefully saving as many as we can." She managed a wry smile. Any body of water handy is useful since Thread drowns. Quickly, according to reports. Depending on the site of the injury, water can impede the ingestion long enough for an amputation to be performed. Even a trough is sufficient." She glanced down at her notes. Thread needs oxygen as well as organic material.

It drowns in three seconds." What if it's burrowed into flesh?" Three seconds. Flesh does not have the free oxygen necessary for Thread life. Ice, too, can retard progress, but that isn't always available either.

Let us assume that we have, somehow, halted the organism's progress but we have a bad scoring and/ or an amputation. Numbweed, numb weed numb weed And bless this planet for inventing something it didn't know we'd need so badly. In the case of an amputation, of course, proceed with standard practices, including cautery. That at least would eliminate any final vestige of Thread. There will be significant trauma so fell is is recommended if the patient is still conscious.

She glanced down at her notes. Tomlinson and Marchane also indicate that the mortality rate, due to heart failure or stroke, is high in Thread injuries. Lao, who practised until the end of the First Pass, notes that often patients who had received slight scores, successfully treated, died from the pathological trauma of being scored. In preparing our groups fcr this problem, do stress that Threadscore can be successfully treated.

If we can move fast enough,' a man said facetiously.

That's why it's important for a medic to accompany as many ground-crew teams as possible. And why first-aid procedures must be taught to every Hold and Hall within your practice. There are only so many of us, but we can teach many what to do and cut down on fatalities.

And,' Corey went on, we must emphasize that all nonessential personnel is to STAY safely indoors until ground crews report the area safe.

Now, we will go on to dragon injuries since these, too. will occur and those of us on the spot may need to assist the dragon and rider. They will have the one advantage we can't provide - the chance to go between and freeze the attacking organism.

But the score will be just as painful.

The larger proportion of draconic injuries are to the wing surfaces . . . if you please, Balzith,' and she turned to the patient green dragon and she obediently extended her wing as the medic conducted that section of her lecture.

When they had adjourned for lunch, prior to discussing other problems - such as hygiene and sanitation within small and medium holds where the amenities were not as efficient as in the larger population cent res - Corey was approached by Joanson of South Boll and Frenkal of Tillek Hold, both senior medics.

Corey, what is your position on... mercy?" asked Joanson in a very thoughtful tone.

She regarded the tall man for a long moment. What it has always been, Joanson. We have, as you realize, quite a few persons in this audience who have not received full medical training. I cannot ask them to do what I would find very, very difficult to do: administer mercy." She gave Joanson a long stare, then glanced at Frenkal who seemed to enjoy the ethical spot she was in.

We are sworn to preserve life. We are also sworn to maintain a decent quality of life for those under our care." She felt her lips twitch, remembering that there were occasions when those two aims were in conflict. We must, each of us, reflect on how we will face such a desperate situation: whether to cut short a final agony is necessary, even ethical. I don't think there will be much time to consider morals, ethics, kind or cruel, at the time we are forced to take action." She paused, took a deep breath. I do remember seeing the tapes the Infirmary used to have, showing very graphically an animal being eaten alive by Thread .. . She noticed Joanson's wince. Yes, eaten alive because Thread caught the hind end of it. I think, if it was someone you knew, you'd opt for the quickest possible end to that." Since they were not the only two who approached her on that subject, she was almost glad when the lunch break ended and she could address the less vex ious matter of amputation.

Everyone needed a refresher on that procedure, especially an emergency type of operation when there might not be time for all the preliminaries that made for a neat stump. She did have the new bone cutters - well, more axes than the traditional surgical tool - for distribution afterwards. Kalvi had brought them with him.

Best edge we've ever been able to make on a surgical tool, Corey,' he told her with some pride. Had them tested at the abattoir.

Cut through flesh and bone like going through cheese. Gotta keep em honed, though. And I've made eases for the blades so no-one slices off a finger by mistake.

Surgeons were not the only ones with a ghoulish sen se of humour, Corey decided.

Meanwhile, in the Great Hall of Fort Hold, with Lord Paulin seated in the front row, Kalvi himself was demonstrating to those who would form the Fort ground crews how to use and service the HNO3 cylinders, taking his audience from assembly of the parts and then a quick rundown of common problems likely to be encountered in the field, Every small holder within Fort's authority was present; many had brought their elder children. All had come on foot, their own or on horseback. Fort Weyr, like the other five, was beginning to restrict dragon rides.

Lord Paulin understood and approved.

We've had it far too easy, using the dragons the way our ancestors would have used the sleds and airborne vehicles, he was heard to say when one of his holders complained that he had been denied his right to a dragon ride We haven't been breeding horses just to run races, you know. And the dragon riders have been far too accommodating.

Do us all good to walk or ride. You have, of course, extended your beast holds to shelter all your livestock?" There had been moaning over that necessity, too, with complaints that the engineers should really have spent more time trying to replicate the marvellous rock-cutting equipment with which their ancestors had wrested living quarters out of cliff-sides.

Kalvi had come in for considerable harangue over that, which he shrugged off.

We have a list of priorities: that's not one. Nor could be.

We still have two sleds in the north, but no power to run em.

Never did find out what they used,' he said. No way of duplicating such power packs either, or I'm sure our ancestors would have. Otherwise why did they engineer the dragons?

Anyway, renewable resources make more sense than erudite or exotic imports." When the main lecture was concluded, everyone was told to reassemble after the noon meal for target practice. This was vastly more interesting than having to listen to Kalvi waffle on about how to adjust the wands of the HNO3

throwers to give a long, narrow tongue of fire or a broader, shorter flame. Or how to clear the nozzle of clogged matter.

You've got almost as much variation in flame as a dragon has..." Kalvi said as he slung the tanks to his back, his voice slightly muffled by his safety gear. You, there, the hard hat has a purpose.

Put it on your head! Lower the face screen!" The offender immediately complied, Kalvi scowling at him.

The effective range of this equipment is six me tres on the narrowest setting, two on the broader. You wouldn't want it to get closer to you..." He was fiddling with his wand. Damn thing's stubborn He took out a screwdriver and made a slight adjustment.

ALWAYS . . . he said loudly and firmly as he held the wand away from his body, keep the nozzle of the wand pointed away from YOU and anyone in your immediate vicinity. We're flaming Thread, not folks.

NEVER . . . never . . . engage the flow of the two gases without looking in what direction the wand is pointing. You can also burn, scorch, sear things without meaning to. CAN'T YOU, Laland?" he said, aiming his remark at one of his students.

The man grinned and shifted his feet nervously, looking anywhere but at his Master.

Now, signal the topside crews, will you, Paulin?" said Kalvi, setting himself firmly on both feet and aiming the wand up.

Paulin waved a red kerchief and suddenly a tangle of something' catapulted off the cliff, startling everyone in the crowd behind Kalvi.

Those with wands raised them defensively and others gasped as the tangle separated into long silver strands - some fine, some thick and falling at slightly different rates. As soon as they were within range, Kalvi activated his flame-thrower.

There was a brief second when the fire seemed to pause on the ends of the launched strands before the flame raced along the material and consumed it so that only bits of smoking char reached the ground . . .

and the rock that had been tied to the leading edge. There was a roar of pprova and great applause.

Not bad,' Paulin said, grinning as he noted the new alertness in the crowd.

Well, we tried for the effect we just delivered,' said Kalvi, turning off both tanks. Used a retardant on the rope, too.

Had plenty of description of how Thread falls, and this is as near as we can get.

Now,' and he turned back to his students, it's best to get Thread before it gets to you or to the ground. We know there are two kinds: first the ones that eat themselves dead - they're not a problem, even if they are in the majority and messy.

Records tell us that the second kind find something in what they ingest that allows them to progress to the second step of their life-cycle; our ancestors never could do much with investigating this type. They only knew that it existed. We know it existed, too, because there are areas here in the north which are still sterile two hundred-odd years since the last Fall. If this type gets the nourishment it needs, above and beyond organic materials, then it can propagate, or divide or whatever it is Thread does. This is what ground crews were needed for. This is the type we don't want hanging around and burrowing out of sight. Our ancestors thought Thread had to have some trace minerals or elements in the dirt but, as they never figured out what, we're not likely to now." Kalvi heaved a sigh of regret. So,' and with a wide sweep of his arm, we incinerate all the buggers the dragon riders miss!" He paused and looked up the cliff-side where the catapult crews were waiting.

OK UP THERE?" he yelled, hands bracketing his mouth.

Immediately in response, red flags were waved at intervals along the cliff.

All right, in groups of five, range yourself parallel to the red flags you now see. When we're all in place - and out of range of anyone's wand,' and Kalvi gave a wry grin, I'll give the signal and we'll see how you manage.

The results were somewhat erratic: some men seemed to get the hang of their equipment immediately, while others couldn't even get the right mix on the gases to produce flame.

Well, it happens,' Kalvi said in patient resignation. Should make em climb the thread back up the cliff he added.

Do em good." Take too much time. THROW DOWN THE NETS,' Kalvi roared and then grinned at Paulin. Thought we'd have some trouble.

We'll get our mock threads back up and in use." How much did you bring?" Yards,' was all Kalvi said with another grin.

By the time the short winter afternoon was closing into darkness, all the holders had had a chance to sear' thread despite hiccups and misses. The mock thread supply ran out before they lost interest in the practice.

Now I don't want you to overdo it on your own,' Paulin said to those nearest him as they walked back to the Hold.

The practice area had been some distance up the North Road from Fort Hold, where there were neither beasts nor cot holds that could be affected. HNO3 isn't all that hard to manufacture, but the equipment is. Don't wear it out before it's needed.

During their practice, the main Hall had been rearranged for the evening meal and the trainees were as hungry as gatherers.

Tomorrow we'll clean the gear,' Kalvi announced while klah was being served, and you'll strip down and reassemble the units so I'm sure you know what you're doing. The man who does it fastest and best will get Lord Paulin's reward." A loud cheer resounded through the Hall.

Morale's good,' Paulin said to Kalvi who nodded, well satisfied with the way this first instruction session had gone.

If all of those meetings planned for the Head Engineer at the other major holds went as smoothly, Kalvi thought he might even get a chance for a few days off to fish in Istan waters. In the frantic search during the run-up to the Second Pass for materials long left in storage, some reels of stout nylon fishing line had been found. The bar-coding on the carton had been damaged so there was no way of knowing how long ago the line had been manufactured, but Kalvi Was eager to put it to the test with some of the big uns that 5wa in the tropical waters. This sort of synthetic material was extremely durable and would certainly take the weight of pack fish which could sometimes be quite substantial.

A third group made up of teachers - novices and experienced were gathered in the College's spacious refectory.

Today this convocation had the happier task, learning and rehearsing the new Ballads which were to be used in teaching the young.

On the second day the Fort Weyrleader would instruct the peripatetic teachers on how best to shelter themselves if they should be caught out during Threadfall.

Clisser had been inundated with complaints that the Weyrs were restricting rides which had been the accustomed mode of transport. Not all the teachers were familiar with, nor competent to ride, the sturdy horses that had been bred for long-distance and mountain travel. He was going to have to reassign a lot of his older teachers, yet another headache.

But for this three-day period at least, the emphasis would be on the music and the new curriculum. Not that he hadn't had contentious reactions to that. He was beginning to think that Bethany had had the right of it when she suggested that they, like the first Settlers, had relied too heavily on easy access to information. Oddly enough, some of the older teachers loudly approved the new curriculum.

High time we brought things up to date, with relevance to the life we're leading here, not what folks had there,' Layrence of Tillek said, stuff we'll never have, so what's the point of quizzing them on it?" But we have traditions we must uphold,' Sallisha said, her brow creased in a frown. Which made Clisser realize once again that her reputation for being a right wagon' was not without merit.

Traditions which they must understand to appreciate what we have Oh, Sallisha,' and Bethany smiled in her soothing way, we're incorporating all those traditions in the Ballads but stressing what they need to understand of the life they have here." But our glorious past . . . Sallisha began.

Is past,' Sheledon said forcefully, scowling right back at her.

All past, all gone, and why dwell on contacts our ancestors severed for their own good reasons?" But - - but - - - they should know - - - Sallisha began again.

If they wish to know more, they can read it. . . Sheledon said, for advanced study. Right now, they have to cope with the problem of Threadfall. . And that's far more important than which planets outlasted the Nathi bombardments and who was World Leader in 2089,' said Shulse. Or how to plot a parabolic course around a primary.

Sallisha glared implacably at the maths teacher.

Of course,' Shulse went on, I do approve of mentioning such history where it pertains to Emily Boll as Governor, or Paul Benden as Admiral of the Fleet, because they are part and parcel of Pernese history." But you have to show students the overall picture - - -.

Sallisha was persistence itself.

And some students will be vitally interested, I'm sure,' Shulse said, but I agree with Clisser that we have to streamline the material to be studied to the point where it has relevance to this world and our civilization." Civilization?" Sallisha said at her most scornful.

What? You don't call what we've made here "civilized"?" Sheledon loved to tease the literal-minded Sallisha.

Not in terms of what our ancestors had." And all that went with a high-tech society - like prepubescent addicts, city gangs, wild plagues, so much tech fraud that people were stuffing credits in their mattresses to protect their income, the Spare me,' Sallisha said contemptuously, and concentrate on the good that was done Sheledon gave a chuckle. D'you know how dangerous it was to be a teacher on old Earth?" Nonsense, our civilization,' and she emphasized the word, revered professors and instructors on every level. Only after they were allowed class-room discipline Sheledon began.

And the use of stunners,' added Shulse.

That is not a problem on Pern,' Sallisha said loftily.

And we'll keep it that way,' said Clisser firmly, by adjusting what interests our classes and dispensing with irrelevancies." Sallisha whirled on Clisser. What you decide is relevant?" Clisser pointed to the files along one wall of the library in which they were talking. I sent out questionnaires to every teacher on the rolls, and to holders, major and minor, asking for input. I got it, and this curriculum,' he lifted the thick volume, is the result. You've all received copies.

And the Teaching Ballads will be part of the package you receive during the conference.

Sallisha retired with poor grace, sulking as obviously as any intractable student would. He wondered if she saw the resemblance in attitude. However, Sallisha was a very good teacher, able to impart knowledge at the level needed, and was therefore supervisor of Southeastern Pern. But she had her little quirks - like everyone else in the world.

Making the children memorize the Teaching Ballads would improve their retention of words: a skill that Clisser realized he had lost with his dependence on technology. But then, one of the reasons the Colonists had come to Pern with its limited resources was to revert to a society that was not so dependent on technology. He read accounts of persons who never left their home place, contacting others only by electronics, living as ere mites Not so much out of fear of the outside world as indolence. No-one could be indolent on Pern, Clisser told himself, and smiled. What a wasted life to remain in one place all one's days! Well, perhaps here on Pern, events - like Threadfall had forced them a little lower on the technological scale than the Settlers had anticipated, but they had adapted to Pern and were adapting it to their own use. And would meet the menace with a fully developed, renewable air defence force.

He hoped Clisser sucked in his breath in a sort of reverse whistle. Everyone on the planet - with one notable exception - was girding their loins and securing their premises against that attack.

Preparing was one thing, but enduring fifty years of an aerial attack was another. Briefly he reviewed the accounts published by the besieged colonists on Sirius III and Vega IV when the Nathi started bombarding the planets. Day after day, according to the history tapes, the worlds had been shelled with dirty missiles, rendering the surface uninhabitable. Whole generations had grown up on eolonial planets, living in deep shelters . Clisser smiled to himself - not much different from the cave holds in which the Pernese now lived. And indeed those accommodations had benefited by the Sirian and Vegan experiences - using the magma core taps to provide heat and solar panels for power. Humans had survived under far worse conditions than pertained on this planet. At least on Pern, you knew when and where Thread would fall and could mount effective de fences And yet, the scale of Threadfall was awesome and failure had appalling consequences.

Failure usually did.

Therefore, Clisser hoped that the music which had been composed as psychologically uplifting would have the desired effect: developing the morale and encouraging the effort.

Briefly he wondered what would have happened on old Earth, during the National period, if there'd been a common extraterrestrial enemy to unite the diverse races.

Jemmy and Sheledon had certainly written some stirring music, martial as well as hopeful. Some of the less ambitious tunes had a tendency to stay in the mind so that you woke up in the morning whistling one or hearing it in your head: the mark of a good melody to Clisser's way of thinking. And they had scored the music for various solo instruments or combinations of those readily available, so that even inexperienced players in the most isolated Hold or Hall would be able to accompany singers.

Jemmy's riddling song was a delight and Clisser hadn't quite got all the answers yet, but it would prove useful during the hours of a Fall to distract folk about what was happening outside. Bethany's lament - the first song she had ever composed - was next on the programme and he settled back to listen to it.

But his mind, working overtime in anxiety over the success of his new programme, refused to be caught up in the music.

Among other things, WHAT was he going to do about Bitra Hold? The last teacher he'd sent there had left, voiding his contract with Chalkin - not that Clisser blamed Issony when he'd heard the way the man had been humiliated and threatened by unruly holder children - but children had to receive rudimentary education, You couldn't afford to let one whole province lapse into illiteracy.

To be sure, children learn at different rates; he knew that, and learning should be made as interesting as possible, to lay the foundations for further study and for life itself, flr that matter.

That was the purpose of education: to develop the skills required to solve problems. And to utilize the potential that existed in everyone - even a Bitran, he added sourly.

Maybe he should reappoint Sallisha to that area? Then he chuckled. Not much chance of that. She had enough Seniority to refuse point blank.

He made up his mind then, with the lovely phrases of Bethany's song soothing him, to bring up the problem of Chalkin, Lord Holder of Bitra, in the next Condave. Something had to be done about the man.

During the final evening meal in which all three groups joined up on the Fort court for a dinner featuring three whole roasted steers, Clisser heard Chalkin's name come up and homed in on the group discussing the man.

That's not all,' M'shall was saying, a deep frown on his usually amiable face, he's put up guards at the borders, and anyone who wants to leave can take only their clothes with them. Nothing else, not even the animals which they may have raised themselves.

Clisser had not realized that the Benden Weyrleader had arrived, but his presence was certainly fortuitous.

You're speaking of Chalkin?" he asked when the others cknowledged his presence and made room for him in their circle.

M'shall gave a scornful laugh. Who else would turn folks out of their holds right now?" I've just heard from one of my travelling teachers, Issony, and he's quit and nothing would persuade him to go back to Bitra. But even they have to grow up literate." Ha!' M'shall's scoffing was echoed by the others.

School hours keep Bitrans from other jobs which earn their Holder more marks. What did he do to Issony?" He'll give you chapter and verse if you ask him. In fact, it would do him good. I understand one of your riders rescued him." We do a lot of rescue work in Bitra,' M'shall said, not at all pleased by the necessity. But only non-Bitrans,' he added.

Now, look,' and Bridgely seemed about to explode, I will not succour all his refugees. And I will not lift a hand to help him when his Hold is overrun by Thread. Ah,' and M'shall raised one finger in a sardonic gesture, but you see, he doesn't believe Thread's coming.

Wouldn't we feel silly if he was right after all?" said Farley, one of the other minor Fort holders. Oops, wrong thing to say,' he added when coldly repressive stares rejected his witticism.

Chalkin has always been contrary by nature,' Clisser said.

But never such an outright fool." Well, he's exceeded even "damned fool",' Bridgely said. Is your teacher, Issony, here now?

Well, then, bring him up to Fort. We're about to do something definitive about Chalkin." Right now?" Clisser couldn't help looking over at the roasting carcasses and sniffing at the succulent odours they were producing.

I expect to eat, too,' said Bridgely, relenting.

I just finished eating at Benden,' M'shall said, but his nose was twitching at the aromas. Ah, well, we could have a slice to allow you to enjoy your meal." Timed it just right, didn't you?" Farley said with a grin

for their obvious interest in the roasting meats. Can some thing be done about an irresponsible Lord Holder?" Read your copy of the Charter, Farley,' Clisser advised.

And how long have border guards - - . and Paulin paused, made indignant by such a measure been in place?" He'd assembled those concerned in his office at the Hold when they'd finished eating.

Issony was on call if his testimony was required.

As near as we can figure out, about seven days,' M'shall said.

As you know, we've been canvassing all the holds to see who, if any, of Chalkin's people has been told about the imminence of Thread.

Surely they'd have heard that much at Gathers Paulin began.

Ha!" Bridgely put in. Very few of his folk hear where or when Gathers are being held, much less attend them." That isn't right,' said Paulin, shaking his head.

Frankly, Paulin, I'd say his tithing of them is punitive. None of them ever seem to have a mark to spend even when they do bring work to sell at a Benden Gather. Not that they're encouraged to travel at all." Even to Gathers?" Paulin answered his own query. No, he wouldn't encourage them, would he?" Not if he's afraid they'll compare conditions in another Hold. Also, he doesn't like Bitran marks to go past his borders.

And gets every one those high rollers have when they attend those friendly little games he runs,' M'shall said.

I must confess I hadn't known how restrictive he is." Paulin spoke in a very thoughtful tone of voice.

Well, how would you?" Bridgely replied, absolving him. You're west coast. We know because we see so few Bitrans at east coast gathers. Oh, his gamesters attend every one - Hmm, yes, they're ubiquitous, you might say,' Paulin murmured under his breath. So, if he's had to close the it would appear that some holders panicked when they learned Threadfall is indeed expected?" Indeed,' Bridgely agreed with a grim expression, and when delegation got the nerve to approach him, he had them beaten out of the Hold. I saw the lash marks so I know they aren't lying. They said they'd never seen him in such a temper.

}je announced that the dragon riders are trying to get extra tithing on false pretences by spreading such rum ours He was also quite damning about the new mine being opened above uatha when good Bitrans could have worked the Steng Valley ones.

The world is against Bitrans?" Paulin asked in a droll tone.

You got it,' M'shall agreed.

Chalkin also refused to accept delivery of HNO3 tanks . ;;g Kalvi.

Wouldn't pay for them, you mean' M shall said. That's what Telgar riders told mine.

-Either way, there'll be no ground crews. I think he's gone IM enough to warrant impeachment,' Paulin said with slow deliberation.

As a Lord Holder, it's his duty to inform, and prepare his folk, for Threadfall. That's why the Holder system was adopted: to give people a strong leader to supply direction ?urig a Fall and to provide emergency assistance. By closing ;<ti borders, he's also abrogated one of the basic tenets {;vchsafed in the Charter: freedom of movement. He's turned autonomy into despotism. I'll send all Lord Holders and IProfessional Heads particulars . . . Oh,' and he glanced at - aisser in dismay, we can't make quick copies any more, can we?" One dragon rider could contact all the other Lord Holders,' shall suggested.

Or one messenger on this coast and another on ours. That makes only two copies needed.

I'll request a rider from S'nan,' said Paulin, reaching for a pad.

That'll please S'nan no end,' M'shall said. He's not been least bit pleased with Chalkin's defiance. Simply isn't done, you know,' and M'shall grinned as he mimicked S'nan's prim tones.

We must take action against Chalkin now,' Paulin stated, rather than leave it until the next formal Conclave at Turn's End. Time's running out." Then he turned to Clisser. Which reminds me, Clisser, any luck on finding some method of irrefutably determining the return of Thread?" Clisser jerked himself into alertness. We've several possibilities,' he replied, trying to sound more positive than he Was.

What with the loss of computer access, it's taking longer to sift through ways and means.

Well, keep at it . . . and then Paulin touched Clisser's shoulder and smiled, along with everything else you're doing.

By the way, the teaching songs are very good indeed." Then he put a finger in his ear, drilling it briefly as he grinned more broadly.

The kids sing em all the time, not just in class." That's what we intended,' Clisser said with droll satisfaction. Shall I wait for your message?" No need for that, my friend, but thanks for offering.

This I will take pleasure in penning." And Fort's Lord Holder grinned.

And I'll remember to keep a copy for the Archives.

By the way, wasn't there some ancient way of making copies ...

something that would transfer the writing to the next page under?" Clisser bowed his head briefly in thought. Carbon copying, I think you mean. We don't have it, but Lady Salda might have some ideas.

We've got to figure a way to make multiple copies or else spend hours copying." He gave a heavy sigh of regret.

I'll leave it to you then, Clisser,' said Paulin. Thank you all. Now get out here, the lot of you,' and he grinned at the Benden leaders and Kalvi, and enjoy the rest of the evening while I get on with this task. Not that I won't enjoy it in some respects,' he added, picking up his pen and examining the tip.

At that polite dismissal, they all filed out of the office.

Clisser thought that Issony looked disappointed at not being able to recite his catalogue of complaints against Lord Chalkin; so he made sure that Issony had as much of the good wine as he wanted.

Telgar Weyr lantine asked to be allowed out again on the next sunny day, so he was in the Bowl when the travelling traders arrived.

The entire complement of the caverns flocked out to greet them.

lantine furiously sketched the various scenes around him: the big dusty carts with their multiple teams of the heavy-duty ox-types which had been bred for such work. They had been one of the last bio-engineering feats from Wind Blossom, whose grandmother had done such notable work creating the dragons of Pern.

lantine had seen traders come and go on their routes since childhood, and fondly remembered the stellar occasions when the Benden trading group had arrived at their rather remote sheep hold More specifically, he recalled the taste of the boiled sweets, flavoured by the fruits which grew so abundantly in Nerat, which the traders passed out by the handful. Once, there'd been fresh citrus, a treat of unsurpassed delight to himself and his siblings.

For a remote holding, having travellers drop by was almost as good as a Gather. To lantine's surprise, weyrfolk were equally delighted.

Despite the fact that they could usually find a dragon to convey them wherever they wanted to go, the arrival of the traders was even better than tithe trains.

(The tithe wagons were a different matter, since everyone had to pitch in to store the produce given to the support of the Weyr.) And traders brought the news of all the Holds and Halls along the way.

There were as many clusters of folks just talking, lantine noticed, as examining goods in the stalls the Liliencamps set up. Tables and chairs were brought out from the Lower Cavern; klah and the day's fresh bread and rolls were being served.

Leopol, always on hand for lantine, brought over a midmorning snack and hunkered down to give the artist the latest news.

They've been setting up sheltered halts, he said between bits of his own sweet roll, along the road to here. They won't stop doing their routes just because Thread's coming. But they gotta prepare for it. Half of what they got on those big wagons right now is materials for safe havens. Course, they can use what caves there are, but no more camping out in the open.

That's going to cramp their style,' and he grinned broadly.

But if ya gotta, ya gotta. See,' and one jam-stained finger pointed to a group of men and women seated with the two Weyrleaders.

They were all hunched over maps spread out on the table. They're checking the sites over so's everyone here'll know where they might be if they're caught out in a Fall." Who trades through Bitra?" lantine asked with considerable irony.

Leopol snorted. No-one in their right mind! Specially now.

Didja hear that Chalkin's closed his borders to keep his own people in? Didja know that Chalkin doesn't believe Thread's coming?" The boy's eyes widened in horrified dismay at such irreverence. And he never told his holders it is?" Actually I got that distinct impression while I was there,' lantine said, more from what wasn't said and done than what was. I mean, even Hall Domaize was stocking food and supplies against Threadfall. They'd talk enough about odds .iid wagers at Bitra, but not a word about Thread.

Did they sucker you into any gaming?" Leopol's avid expression suggested he yearned for a positive answer.

lantine shook his head and grinned at his eager listener.

In the first place, I'd been warned. Isn't everyone warned about Bitrans at Gathers? And then, I didn't have any spare marks to wager." Otherwise you'd have lost your commission fer fair, Leopol murmured, his eyes still round with his unvoiced speculations of the disaster lantine had avoided.

I'd say Chalkin's gambling in the wrong game if he thinks ignoring Thread will make it not happen,' lantine said.

Shelters are going to have to be huge,' he added, gesturing towards the solid beasts who were being led to the lake to drink.

Either they were accustomed to drago nets from coming to Telgar Weyr, or they were so phlegmatic they didn't care.

However, the weyrlings had never seen them before in their short lives, so they reacted with alarm at the massive cart beasts, squealing with such fright that dragons, sleeping in the pale wintry sun on their weyr ledges, woke up to see what the fuss was about. lantine grinned.

He did a rapid sketch of that in a corner of the page. At the rate he was going, he'd use up even this generous supply of paper.

Well, they've had to use a lot of sheet roofing, I know,' Leopol said. The Veyr contributes, too, ya know, since the Liliencamps have to detour to get up to us.

lantine had never given any thought to the support system required to serve a Weyr and its dragons. He had always assumed that dragons and riders took care of themselves from tithings, but he was acquiring a great respect for the organization and management of such a facility.

In a direct contrast with what he had seen at Bitra, everybody in the Weyr worked cheerfully at any task set them and took great pride in being part of it. Everyone helped everyone else; everyone seemed happy.

To be sure, lantine had recently realized that his early childhood had been relatively carefree and happy. His learning years at the College had also been good as well as productive; his apprenticeship to Hall Domaize had proceeded with only occasional ups and downs as he struggled to perfect new techniques and a full understanding of Art.

Bitra Hold had been an eye-opener. So, of course, was the Weyr, but in a far more positive manner. Grimly, lantine realized that one had to know the bad to properly appreciate the good. He smiled wryly to himself while his right hand now rapidly completed the sketch of the Weyrleaders in earnest collaboration with the Liliencamp trail bosses.

That Bloodline had been the first of the peripatetic traders, bringing goods and delivering less urgent messages on their way from one isolated hold to another. A Liliencamp had been one of the more prominent First Settlers. Ian tine thought he'd been portrayed in the great Mural in Fort Hold, with the other Charterers: a smallish man with black hair, depicted with sharp eyes and a pad of some sort depending from his belt, and - lantine had of course noted them several writing implements stuffed in his chest pocket, and one behind his ear. It had seemed such a logical place to store a pencil that lantine had taken to the habit himself.

He peered more closely at the trail bosses. Yes, one of them had what looked like a pencil perched behind one ear - and he also had an empty pouch at his belt: one that probably accommodated the pad on the table before him.

But, even with such wayside precautions, would such traders be able to continue throughout the fifty dangerous years of a Pass? It was one thing to plan and quite another, as lantine had only just discovered, to put plans into operation. Still, considerable hardship would result in transporting items from Hall to Hold to Weyr during Threadfall, especially since dragons would be wholly involved in protecting the land from Thread. They could not be asked to perform trivial duties.

After all, dragons were not a transportation facility; they had been bio-engineered as a defensive force, and conveying people and goods was only an Interval occupation.

He wondered if the traders had any paper in their great wagons.

Not that he had even a quarter mark left in his pouch, but maybe they'd take a sketch or two in trade.

As quickly as he neatly could, he filled his last empty page with a montage: the train entering the Weyr Bowl, people rushing out to meet it, the goods being exhibited, deals being made, with the central portion the scene of the trail bosses discussing shelters with the Weyrleaders. He held the pad at arm's length and regarded it critically.

That's marvellous,' a voice said behind him, and he twisted about in surprise. Why, you did it in a flash!" The green rider, her dragonet lounging beside her, smiled self-consciously, her green eyes shining with something akin to awe. Leopol had pointed this new rider out to him the other day and related the circumstances of her precipitous arrival at the Hatching.

Debera?" he asked, remembering the name. She gasped, slightly recoiling from him in her startlement. Her dragon came immediately alert, eyes twirling faster with alarm. Oh, say, I didn't mean to .

Easy, Morath, he means me no harm,' she said to the dragon and then smiled reassuringly up at him. I was just surprised you'd know my name - -, Leopol,' and lantine pointed his pencil to where the boy stood in earnest bargaining with a trader lad about the same age, used to tell me everything that happened in the Weyr while I was recovering.

Oh, yes,' and the girl seemed to relax and even managed a wider smile, I know him. He's into everything. But kindhearted,' she added hastily, glancing up at lantine. You've had some adventures, too, or so Leopol told me." Then she indicated his sketch. You did that so well and so quickly.

Why, you can almost hear them bargaining,' she added, pointing to the trader with his mouth open.

lantine regarded it critically. Well, speed is not necessarily a good thing if you want to do good work." He deftly added a fold to the head trader's tunic, where he now saw there was a bulge over the belt.

Let's see if the subject likes it. He was amazed to hear the edge in his voice. She glanced warily up at him.

If that's what you can do quickly,' she said reassuringly. I'd like to see what you do when you take your time.

He couldn't resist and flipped over pages to where he had made a sketch of her oiling Morath.

Oh, and I didn't see you doing this She reached out to touch it, but he was flipping to the page where he had sketched her and Morath listening to T'dam at the lecture.

She'd had one arm draped over her dragon's neck and he thought he had captured the subtle bond that had prompted the embrace.

Oh, that's marvellous,' and lantine was amazed to see tears in her eyes. In a spontaneous gesture, she clung to his arm, feasting her eyes on the drawing and preventing him from turning the page over.

Oh, how I'd You like it?" Oh, I do,' and she snatched her hands away from his arm and clasped them behind her back, blushing deeply. I do and bit her lip, swaying nervously.

What's the matter?" She gave an embarrassed laugh. I haven't so much as the shaving of a mark . - He tore the sketch out of the pad and handed it to her.

Oh, I couldn't . . . I couldn't,' and she stepped back, although the look in her eyes told lantine how much she wanted it.

Why not?" He pressed the paper against her, pushing it at her when she continued to resist. Please, Debera? I've had to get my hand back in after my fingers freezing, and it's only a sketch." She glanced up at him, nervously and with some other fear lurking in the shadows of her lovely green eyes.

You should have it, you know, to remind you of Morath at this age." One hand crept from behind her back and reached for the sheet.

You're very good, lantine,' she murmured and held the sketch by fingertips as if she was afraid she'd soil it. But I've nothing to pay .

Yes, you have,' he said quickly with sudden inspiration and gestured towards the traders still in their group about the table.

You can be a satisfied customer and help me wheedle another pad out of the traders in return for this drawing of them.

Oh, but... She had shot a quick, frightened glance at the traders and then, in as rapid a change of mood, gave herself a shake, her free hand going to her dragon's head as if seeking reassurance. The dragonet turned adoring eyes to her and Debera's eyes briefly unfocused, the way lantine had noticed in riders who paused to talk to their dragons. She let out a breath and faced him resolutely. I would be glad to say a good word for you with Master Jol. He's by way of being a cousin of my mother's." Is he now?" lantine said with fervour. Then let us see if kinship is useful in trading." I can't, of course, promise anything,' she said candidly as they moved towards the group. She found it hard to keep the sketch from fluttering. Oh dear.

Roll it up,' he suggested. Shall I do it for you?" he added.

No, thank you, I can manage." And she did, making a much tighter job of it than he would have done.

The conference was ending as they approached and the participants began to separate.

Master Jol?" Debera said, her voice cracking slightly and not reaching very far. Master Jol,' she repeated, projecting a firmer tone. lantine wondered if she was afraid the trader wouldn't recognize her at all.

Is that Debera?" the trader said, peering at her as if he didn't believe his eyes. Then a broad smile of recollection covered his face and he strode rapidly across the distance between them, hands extended.

Debera seemed to shy from such a warm welcome. My dear, I'd heard that you'd - Impressed a dragon." lantine put a reassuring hand at her waist and gave her an imperceptible forward push.

Yes, this is Morath,' and suddenly her manner became sure and proud. Dragon and rider exchanged one of those melting looks that lantine found incredibly touching.

Well, well, my greetings to you, young Morath,' he said, bowing formally to the dragonet, whose eyes began to whirl faster.

Debera gave her a reassuring little pat. Master Jo! is my mother's cousin,' she explained to Morath.

Which makes me yours as well, my lass,' Jo! reminded her.

And very proud to have dragon rider kin. Ah, you're so like your mother. Did you know that?" lantine watched as Debera's expression turned sad.

Ah, now, I didn't mean to grieve you, child,' Jo! said with instant dismay. And how happy she would be to see you.

he paused and cleared his throat so that lantine knew the trader was hastily amending what he had started to say, here, a dragon rider And out of my father's control,' Debera finished with droll bitterness. Had you heard that too, Master Jo!?" Oh, indeed,' Master Jo! said, grinning even more broadly, his eyes twinkling with a slight hint of malice. I was right pleased to hear that, indeed and I was.

Now, what can I do for you? Some Gather clothes, good lined boots - you'll have come with little if I know your father." Such plain speaking momentarily made Debera uneasy, but her dragonet crowded reassuringly against her.

The Weyr has furnished me with everything I need, Master Jo! .

. . she replied with quiet dignity.

Master? Am I not cousin to you, young woman?" Jo! asked with mock severity.

Now her smile returned. Cousin, but I thank you, though I do have a favour to ask . . And what might that be?" Debera flipped open her sketch and showed it to the trader.

lantine here did this of me. and he has one of you . . . On cue, lantine offered his sketch pad, open to the montage.

Only lantine's used up his pad and, like me, hasn't a sliver to spend.

Master Jo! reached for the pad, his manner altering instantly to a trader's critical appraisal. But he had only cast an eye over the sketch when he paused, peering more closely at the at'tist.

lantine, you said?" And when both Debera and lantine nodded, his smile quirked the line of his generous mouth. I place the name now.

You're the lad who managed to escape unscathed from Chalkin's clutches." Jo! offered his free hand to lantine. Well done, lad!

I'd had wind of your adventure.

He winked, his expression approving. But then we traders hear everything and learn to sift the fine thread of truth from the chaff of gossip.

Then he turned back to the sketch, examining it carefully, nodding his head as his eyes went from one panel to the next.

He gave an amused sniff as he took a longer look at himself, pencil cocked behind his ear.

You've got me to the life, pencil and all, and he touched the tool to be sure it was in place. May I?" he asked courteously, indicating a desire to look at the other pages.

Certainly,' said lantine, making a polite bow. He could have kicked himself when he swayed a bit on his feet.

Here now, lad, I know you're not long recovered from your ordeal,' Jo! said, quickly supporting him. Let's just take a seat so I can have a good look at everything this pad seems to have on offer.

Ignoring lantine's protests, Jo! led him to the table he had just left and pushed him onto a stool. Debera and Morath followed, Debera looking very pleased with this consideration.

And Jo! went through the pad as thoroughly as Master Domaize would have done, making comments about those Weyr folk he knew, smiling and nodding a good deal. He also knew when lantine had left a pose unfinished.

Now, what is it you require, Artist lantine?" More paper, mainly,' lantine said in a tentative tone.

Jo! nodded. I believe I do have a pad of this quality paper, but smaller. I bring some in for Waine from time to time. I can, of course, get larger sheets . .

It's not as if I'll be staying around the Weyr until your next round Master Jo! dismissed that consideration. I've stores at Telgar Hold and can forward what you need in a day or two." He gave lantine a thoughtful glance. You'll not be leaving here all that soon, I'd say." He took the pencil from behind his ear with one hand and the pad from its pouch at his belt with the other. Now, what exactly are your requirements, Artist lantine?" Ah He wants to make sketches of every rider and dragon in the Weyr,' said Leopol, who had eased himself unnoticed close enough to hear what was being said.

So you've many commissions already, have you?" Master Jo! asked approvingly, pencil poised over the fresh leaf of his pad.

Well, no, not exactly, you see,' lantine stammered.

You've three I know of,' said Leopol. P'tero for M'leng And the Weyrleaders .

lantine almost bit Leopol's nose off. The Weyrleaders're different. I will do them in oils, but the sketches are to thank those in the Weyr who've been so kind to me.

Doing portraits of an entire Weyr is quite an undertaking, and Master Jo! scribbled a line. You'll need a good deal of paper and plenty of pencils. Or would you prefer ink? I stock a very good quality. Guaranteed not to fade or blot." He looked at lantine expectantly.

But I've only this sketch to trade with you,' lantine said.

Lad, you've credit with Jo! Liliencamp Traders,' Jo! told him gently, touching his pencil to lantine's shoulder and giving it a little push. I'm not Chalkin, mind you. Not any way, shape or form." And he gave a burst of such infectious laughter that lantine grinned in spite of himself. Now, give me your requirements straight. But to ease your mind, if you'd finish off this,' and the pencil end tapped the montage, in water colour, I'm ready to give you two marks for it.

Oh, and I'd like this one of T'dam giving his lecture..." he added, flipping to that page. That'!! show some folks that dragon riders do niething beyond glide about the skies. A mark and a half for that But. . but. . . lantine floundered, trying to organize his t1'oughts as well as his needs. Debera was grinning from ear to ear and so was her dragon. I've no water colours with me he began, wishing to indicate his willingness to finish the inontage.

Ah, but I just happen to have some, which is why I suggested them,' said Jo! beaming again. Really, this meeting is most serendipitous,' he added, and his smile included Debera. And this,' he touched the montage again in a very proprietary fashion, coloured up a bit and with glass to protect it, will look very good indeed in my wagon office.

Indeed it will Advertising, I believe the ancestors called it." Ah, Master Jo!?" called someone from one of the trade wagons. A moment of your time - - I'll be back, lad, just you stay there. You, too, Debera. I've not finished with the pair of you yet, so I haven't." As lantine and Debera exchanged stunned looks, he trotted off to see what was required of him, tucking the pencil behind his ear again and folding up his pad as he went.

I don't believe him,' lantine said, shaking his head, feeling weak and breathless.

Are you all right?" Debera asked, leaning across the table to him.

Gob-smacked,' lantine told her, remembering a favourite expression of his father's. Completely gob-smacked!" Debera grinned knowingly. I think I am, too. I never expected --Neither did I!' Why? Don't you trust traders?" Leopol asked, sounding slightly defensive.

lantine gave a shaky laugh. One can trust traders. It's just I never expected such generosity . - How long were you in Bitra?" Debera asked tartly, giving a long look.

Long enough,' lantine said, grimacing, to learn new meanings to the word "satisfactory"' Debera gave him a little frown.

Never mind,' he said, shaking his head and patting her hand.

And thank you very much for introducing me to your cousin.

Once he saw that sketch, you really didn't need me,' she remarked, almost shyly.

I believe you ordered these,' said a baritone voice. Rider and artist looked up in astonishment as a trader deposited an armful of items on the table: two pads, one larger than the other, a neat square box which held a full glass bottle of ink, a sheaf of pens and a parcel of pencils. Special delivery." With a grin, he pivoted and went back the way he had come.

Master Jo! does pride himself on his quick service,' Leopol said with a wide grin.

There now! You're all set,' said Debera.

I am indeed,' and the words came out of lantine like a prayer.

Lord Paulin's message to the other Lords Holder and Weyrleaders received a mixed reception: not everyone was in favour of impeachment, despite the evidence presented.

Paulin was both annoyed and frustrated, having hoped for a unanimous decision so that Chalkin could be removed before his Hold was totally demoralized.

Jamson and Azury felt that the matter could wait until the Turn's End Council meeting: Jamson was known to be conservative, but Paulin was surprised by Azury's reservations. Those who lived in tropical zones rarely understood the problems of winter weather. To be sure, it would be more difficult to prepare Bitra Hold in full winter, which was Azury's stated concern, but some progress could be made to prepare the Hold for the vernal onslaught of Threadfall.

Preparations ought to have begun - as in every other Hold two years ago: larger crops sowed, harvests stored and general maintenance done on buildings and arable lands, as well as Fort Hold and Bitran Borders - Early Winter VI

the construction of emergency shelters on the main roads and for ground crews. Not to mention training holders how to combat Thread burrows.

There was the added disadvantage that Chalkin's folk seemed generally dispirited anyhow - though that should not be used as an excuse for denying them news of the impending problem.

And who would succeed to the Hold? A consideration that was certainly fraught with problems.

In his response, Bastom had made a good suggestion: the appointment of a deputy or regent right away until one of Chalkin's sons came of age - sons who would be specifically, and firmly, trained to Hold properly. Not that the new Holder had to be of the Bloodline, but following the precepts of inheritance outlined in the Charter would pacify the nervous Lords. To Paulin's way of thinking, competence should always be the prime decider in succession, and that was n)t always passed on in the genes of Bloodlines.

For that matter, Paulin's eldest nephew had shown a sure grasp of hold management. Sidny was a hard worker, a fair man, and a good judge of character and ability. Paulin was half tempted to recommend him for Fort's leadership when he was gone. He had a few reservations about his son, Mattew, but Paulin knew that he tended to be more critical of his own Blood than others were.

He would definitely suggest Bastom's idea to the Council: good practice for younger folk to have actual hands-on experience in running a Hold. Considering the state Bitra Hold was in, a team would be required. Such an expedient would certainly reduce the cry of nepotism', and give young men and women a chance to display initiative and ability.

When the last of the replies came in, Paulin gave the young green rider a message for M'shall at Benden Weyr on the result of the polling. The Weyrleader was sure to be as disappointed as he was. He tried to convince himself that they could still get Bitra Hold right and tight in time for Threadfall.

But the sooner it was done, the better. He hoped M'shall could get back to him about locating the Bitran uncle, and whether he was competent to take Hold. Otherwise a Search must be made of legitimate heirs to - - Fraggital!,' Paulin muttered, pushing back from his desk and sighing deeply in frustration. One could no longer do a quick search on the Bloodline Program for a comprehensive genealogy. Surely that was one program Clisser had printed out, and copied. Well, we'll need a copy of whatever form that program's in,' he told himself, sighing again. To cheer himself up, he reviewed the progress report from the new mine.

They wanted permission to call the hold CROM, an acronym of the founders: Chester, Ricard, Otty and Minerva.

Paulin didn't see a problem with that but, as a matter of form especially right now - the request should first be presented to the Council. During the Interval so many procedures had been relaxed and the leniency was now coming back to plague them, as in the case of Chalkin becoming Lord Holder. At least Paulin was consoled by the knowledge that it was his father, the late Lord Emilin, who had voted Fort on that score.

That evidence of bad judgment wasn't Paulin's error even if it was now up to him to rectify the situation.

There was an abrupt rapping of knuckles on his door and before he could respond, it swung open: the Benden Weyrleader, M'shall, brushed past Mattew to enter.

We've got to do something NOW, Paulin,' the Weyrleader said, his expression grim as he hauled off his riding gauntlets and opened up his jacket.

You got my message quickly enough . . . Bring klah, Matt,' Paulin asked, gesturing for his son to be quick.

M'shall's face looked pinched with the cold of between and more.

I got it. And that's not the end of it. There's rough weather in Bitra and people freezing to death because they will not leave the border,' M'shall announced.

Will not? Or cannot?" More cannot than will not. Though Chalkin sent down orders that none of the "ungrateful dissenters" could expect to reclaim their holdings - - - punishment for defying him. .

V-"-'

irrespective of the fact that he's putting their lives at risk by his notion of Holding.