You did not, Ruth said. You stayed. I told you to. And you are much stronger now. You will get stronger every day and we will swim and sun and it will be good.
Ruth sounded so fierce that Jaxom had to soothe him with words and caresses until Brekke and Sharra insisted that he had better sit down before he fell. They had arranged a matting of woven streamer fronds against a landward leaning trunk, well back from the shore, to avoid full exposure to the sun. To this couch they assisted him. Ruth stretched out so that his head rested by Jaxom's side, the jeweled eyes whirling with the lavenders of stress.
F'lar and Lessa arrived at midday, after Jaxom had had a short nap. He was surprised to find that Lessa, for all her abrasiveness on other occasions, made a soothing visitor, quiet and soft voiced.
«We had to let Lord Groghe come in person, Jaxom, though I'm sure you didn't appreciate the visit. Rumor had you dead and Ruth, too.» Lessa shrugged expressively. «Bad news needs no harper.»
«Lord Groghe was more interested in where I was than how I was, wasn't he?» Jaxom asked pointedly.
F'lar nodded and grinned at him. «That is why we had D'ram bring him. The Fort Hold watchdragon is too old to take a placement from Lord Groghe's mind.»
«He also had his fire lizard with him,» Jaxom said.
«Those pesky creatures,» Lessa said, her eyes sparkling with annoyance.
«These same pesky creatures came in very handy saving Jaxom's life, Lessa,» Brekke said firmly.
«All right, they have uses but, as far as I'm concerned, their bad habits still outweigh the good ones.»
«Lord Groghe's little queen may be intelligent,» Brekke went on, «but not clever enough to get him back here on his own.»
«That isn't the real problem,» F'lar grimaced. «He's now seen that mountain. And the scope of the land.»
«So, we put in our claim here first,» Lessa replied decisively. «I don't care how many sons Groghe wants to settle, the dragonriders of Pern have first choice.
«Jaxom can help «
«Jaxom has some time to go before he can do very much of anything,» Brekke said, breaking in so smoothly that Jaxom wondered if he'd misinterpreted the surprise on Lessa's face.
«Don't worry, I'll think of some way to stall Lord Groghe's ambitions,» F'lar added.
«If one gets in, the others will follow,» Brekke said thoughtfully, «and I can hardly blame them. This part of the Southern Continent is so much more beautiful than our original settlement.»
«I have a yearning to get closer to that mountain,» F'lar said, turning his head to the south. «Jaxom, I know you've not been very active yet, but how many of those fire lizards about Ruth are Southerners?»
«They're not from the Southern Weyr, if that's what you're worried about,» Sharra said.
«How can you tell?» Lessa asked.
Sharra shrugged. «They won't be handled. They go between if anyone gets close to them. It's Ruth that fascinates them. Not us.»
«We are not their men,» Jaxom said. «Now that I can get to Ruth, I'll see what I can find out about them from him.»
«I wish you would,» Lessa said. «And if there are any from the Southern Weyr…» She let her sentence trail off.
«I think we ought to let Jaxom rest,» Brekke said. F'lar chuckled, gesturing for Lessa to precede him.
«Fine guests we are. Come to see the man and never let him talk.»
«I've done nothing lately to talk about,» and Jaxom shot a fierce look at Brekke and Sharra. «When you come back, I will.»
«If anything interesting occurs, have Ruth bespeak Mnementh or Ramoth.»
Brekke and Sharra left with the Weyrleaders, and Jaxom was grateful for the respite. He could hear Ruth talking to the two Benden dragons and he chuckled when Ruth told Ramoth firmly that there were no fire lizards from the Southern Weyr among his new friends. Jaxom wondered why it hadn't occurred to him sooner to ask Ruth's acquaintances about their men. He sighed. He hadn't been thinking about much lately except his extraordinary brush with death, and that occupied his mind too morbidly. Much better for him to explore a living puzzle.
He had several. The most worrisome was still what he might have said in his delirium. Brekke's rejoinder had been no real assurance. He tried to force his thought back to that time but all he remembered was heat and cold, vivid but vague nightmares.
He thought about his guardian's visit. So Lytol did like him! Shells! He'd forgotten to ask Lytol about Corana. He ought to have sent her some kind of word. She must have heard of his illness. Not but what this didn't make it easier for him to complete the break in their relationship. Now that he'd seen Sharra, he couldn't have continued with Corana. He must remember to ask Lytol.
What had he said when he was fevered? How did a fever patient talk? In bits and snatches? Whole phrases? Maybe he needn't worry. Not about what he could have said in fever.
He didn't like Lord Groghe just appearing like that, to check up on him. And, if he hadn't taken ill. Lord Groghe would never have known about this part of Southern. At least, until the dragonriders wanted him to know. And that mountain! Too unusual a feature to forget. Any dragon would be able to find it. Or would they? Unless the rider had a very clear picture, the dragon did not always see vividly enough to jump between. And a secondhand vision? D'ram and Tiroth had done so from Master Robinton's description. But D'ram and Tiroth were experienced.
Jaxom wanted to be well. He wanted to get closer to that mountain. He wanted to be first. How long would it take him to recover?
He was allowed to swim a bit the next day, an exercise which Brekke said would tone his muscles but which succeeded in proving he had none left. Exhausted, he was no sooner on his beachside couch than he fell deeply asleep.
Roused by Sharra's touch, he cried out and sat bolt upright, looking about him.
«What's the matter, Jaxom?»
«A dream! A nightmare!» He was sure something was wrong. Then he saw Ruth, stretched out, fast asleep, his muzzle only a handsbreadth from his feet, at least a dozen fire lizards curled on and about him, twitching in their own dreams.
«Well, you're awake now. What's wrong?»
«That dream was so vivid… and yet it's all gone. I wanted so much to remember it.»
Sharra placed a cool hand on his forehead. He pushed it away.
«I'm not fevered,» he said, cranky.
«No, you're not. Any headache? Spots?»
Impatient and angry, he denied them, then sighed and smiled an apology at her. «Bad tempered, aren't I?»
«Rarely.» She grinned, then eased to the sand beside him.
«If I swim a little longer and further every day, how long will it take me to recover fully?»
«What makes you so anxious?»
Jaxom grinned, jerking his head back in the direction of the mountain. «I want to get there before Lord Groghe does.»
«Oh, I think you'll manage that quite easily.» Sharra's expression was mischievous. «You will get stronger every day now. We just don't want you to push yourself too quickly. Better a few more days now, than suffer a relapse and go through all this again.»
«A relapse? How would I know if I was having one?»
«Easy. Spots and headaches. Do please do it our way, Jaxom.»
The appeal in her blue eyes was genuine, and Jaxom liked to think it was for him, Jaxom, not for him, the patient. Not taking his eyes from hers, he nodded slowly in acquiescence and was rewarded by her slow smile.
F'nor and D'ram arrived late that afternoon, in fighting gear, with full firestone sacks draped across their dragons.