"You are right, completely right, Aivas," Robinton agreed, shaking his head at the folly of his impetuous demand.
"How critical to Pern, and to this project, is this Lord Holders Convocation, Master Robinton?" Aivas asked.
Robinton gave a wry smile. "That's the debatable point. But when all the Lord Holders assemble, minor irritations have a habit of flaring up into roaring debates. We-Sebell, Lytol, D'ram, and I-have good reason to believe that Landing, and this project, may be called to question by some of the dissatisfied and conservative elements. We'll be better able to gauge reactions after Sallah Telgar's interment tomorrow."
"Will many attend that ceremony?"
Robinton's grin turned broad and slightly malicious. "Anybody who is anybody on Pern will be there! Master Shonagar has been relentlessly rehearsing apprentices and journeymen; Domick has been killing himself to produce suitable music, including a splendid fanfare of trumpets. Dragons will fill the sky to do her honor." Robinton felt an unexpected closure of his throat at the thought of the tributes arranged for this fabled ancestress. "Perschar, among others, will be on hand to illustrate."
"Such scenes would be an unusual addition to the archives of present-day Pern," Aivas remarked.
"You shall have them, of course," Robinton promised earnestly.
"As well as your individual verbal accounts of the proceedings."
"All of us?" D'ram asked surprised.
"Different perspectives often supply the full dimensions of an event."
By the next evening, Robinton was not certain if the full dimensions of Sallah Telgar's interment would ever be properly recorded. It had been quite a day, and for once he admitted that he was very, very tired.
Larad and his lady had organized a splendid occasion, with master instrumentalists, under the direction of Domick himself, and singers from all over the continent to sing the Ballad of Sallah Telgar. The large Telgar Gather pits had been utilized to feed those who had begun arriving the day before. Most had thoughtfully brought their own rations, but Telgar stinted no one, and anyone of consequence was accommodated in the portions of the great Hold that had not been tenanted since the last plague. Robinton rather thought that every holder in Telgar had been drafted to clean; Lady Jissamy was by no means lax in her duties, even the farthest corner of her domain enduring inspection once every Turn, but the place sparkled and shone as never before.
The interment had been set for mid-afternoon. Every dragon came laden with as many passengers as it was safe to carry. Toric himself arrived on K'van's Heth; his seldom-seen wife, Ramala, accompanied him. He immediately began to solicit the other Lord Holders for guards to help him with his rebels. From the expression on the big Southerner's face, Robinton surmised that he was meeting with little success. When the Harper had a chance to compare notes with Sebell, it appeared that the Lord Holders, without exception, felt that this was an inappropriate time to recruit a punitive force-which meant that Toric would air that problem at the Conference. That was another debate sure to be heated. Robinton was of two minds about attending: he was no longer obliged to, but the invitation had been made to him, and though he trusted Sebell to report accurately, he preferred to make his own observations whenever possible.
However, all minor rifts and major controversies faded into insignificance as the interment ceremonies commenced. The Ballad was magnificently performed. Then, cued by Ruth and Jaxom, the massed Weyrs appeared in the skies above Telgar. Robinton felt tears well up in his eyes, tears not only in reaction to the honor the massed Weyrs did Sallah Telgar, but in remembrance for the previous occasion, nearly twenty Turns before, when the five Lost Weyrs had reappeared in the Telgar skies to meet Threadfall with Benden's valiant wings. Today, Lessa's Ramoth and Telgar's senior queen dragon Solth carried between them the hammock containing Sallah's coffin. The sun glinted off the gold plate, trim, and handles, giving the impression that Rukbat itself was honoring the gallant woman and causing the throng to gasp in awe. Ranged above the two queens, the Weyrs formed seven sections in a close formation, wingtip to wingtip, that was a feat of wingmanship in itself.
The entire mass followed the two queens down, hovering as Ramoth and Solth delicately placed their burden on the bier, the hammock falling gracefully to either side. An honor escort of Holders stepped forward to bear the coffin the last few lengths to its final resting place.
The massed dragonriders swirled, each keeping its Weyr formation, and came to rest either on Telgar's fireheights or as a border to the assembled. Then Larad stepped forward, his sons behind him, as Aivas had confirmed that they were, indeed, the direct descendants of Sallah Telgar and Tarvi Andiyar.
"Let this be a day of rejoicing that this valiant lady has returned to the world she gave her life to protect. Let her rest now with others of the Blood in the Hold that bears her name and honors her above all its ancestors."
With those simple words, Larad stepped aside, and the coffin was lifted to the shoulders of the escort and carried in measured step toward the tomb. As the coffin was placed inside, the dragons, one and all, lifted their heads to keen. A heart-tearing sound on any occasion, but to Robinton, tears streaming down his face, the notes had an oddly triumphant ring. As if in response to that, an immense flurry of wings was heard, and what must have been every fire-lizard in the North and South, wild and tame, swooped down in a deep, wide aerial veil just above the heads of the escort, across the still open tomb, adding their high voices in counterpoint to the dragons' deeper tones. Then they swept up and, at the top of Telgar's precipice, abruptly disappeared.
Robinton had wondered where Zair had gone to, and only now realized that those around him who were usually adorned by a fire-lizard had had empty shoulders from the moment the massed dragon wings had appeared in the sky.
The escort, somewhat stunned by that final flourish to the solemn event, stepped back, and the Telgar masons, their Gather-best clothes protected by new aprons, moved forward to seal the opening.
In respectful silence-for even the youngest had been awed by the dragon and fire-lizard displays-the assembled waited until the tomb was completely closed and the masons stood aside. Larad and Jissamy moved together to face the tomb and bowed deeply, as did the escort. The obeisance was repeated by everyone present.
Then Larad, his lady, and the escort stepped back and proceeded toward the broad court of Telgar Hold. Domick's musicians began to play a solemn and majestic piece to signal the end of the ceremonies. They followed behind the last of the crowd dispersing to enjoy the hospitality of Telgar Hold.
Robinton was looking forward with great anticipation to tasting one of the roast beasts turning on the great spits, not to mention a fine vintage of Benden wine that he was certain Larad would provide him, when he felt a touch on his elbow.
"Robinton!" Jaxom said in a low voice, his eyes sparking with fury. "They tried to attack Aivas. Come!"
"Tried?" Robinton repeated, shocked. He simply couldn't comprehend what Jaxom had just said.
"Tried!" Jaxom repeated grimly, guiding Robinton by the elbow toward the edge of those sauntering along toward the court. "Farli brought just a scribble, so I know no more than that, but I for one can't stand about here."
"Nor I!" Nothing would settle Robinton's pounding heart until he saw with his own eyes that Aivas had suffered no damage. The very thought of being deprived of the knowledge they were daily gaining from the facility was enough to give him another heart attack. He also decided not to spread the information until he had reassured himself. Shards! He was getting old. Why had he not realized that today would be the perfect time to make a direct attack-when Landing was nearly deserted. Everyone who could come was up here in Telgar.