"They're stout enough," Sharra agreed and led the way.
Sharra was correct about the trees: F'nor marked off the proposed site of the hall and the trees to be cut. This was a lot easier said than done. The axes didn't seem to bite the wood, rather bounced off. F'nor was surprised, muttering about dull axes and brought out his sharpening stone. Having achieved a suitably sharp edge at the expense of a slit finger, he tried again with slightly more success.
"I don't understand it," he said, peering at the cuts in the trunk. "This wood shouldn't be that tough. It's a fruitwood, not a northern hardwood. Well, we've got to clear the site, boys!"
The only one who didn't have a fine set of blisters by midday was Piemur, who was used to hacking. More discouraging was the lack of progress-only six trees were down.
"Not for lack of trying, is it?" F'nor said, mopping the sweat from his forehead. "Well, let's see what Sharra's got for us to eat. Something smells good."
They had time for a swim before Sharra's meal was ready, the salt water stinging in their blisters which Sharra slathered with numbweed. When they'd eaten the broiled fish and baked roots, F'nor set them to sharpening their axes. They spent the rest of the afternoon lopping off branches before they asked the dragons to haul the timbers to one side. Sharra cleared underbrush and, with Ruth's help, brought black reef rock to mark out the piles of the foundation.
As soon as F'nor took his recruits back to the Weyr for the night, Jaxom and Piemur collapsed on the sand, rousing only long enough to eat the dinner Sharra served them.
"I'd sooner tramp around the Big Bay," Piemur muttered, wincing as he stretched his shoulders this way and that.
"It's for Master Robinton," Sharra said.
Jaxom regarded his blisters thoughtfully. "At the rate we're going it'd better take him months to get here!"
Sharra took pity on their aching muscles and rubbed salve that smelled aromatic and burned pleasantly into the soreness. Jaxom liked to think that she spent more time massaging his back than Piemur's. He'd been glad to see the young harper and was fascinated by the Records and the charts he was drawing from his travels, but he did wish that Piemur had taken a day or two longer before he'd reached the camp. There was no way he could consolidate his hold on her attentions with a third party about.
There was even less opportunity by the following morning. Sharra woke them to announce that F'nor had arrived, with more helpers.
Jaxom should have been more suspicious of her bland expression, and the calls and orders that he beard outside the shelter. But he was totally unprepared for the sight that met his eyes when he and Piemur, moving stiffly, emerged from the shelter.
The cove, the clearing, the sky-all were full of dragons and men. As soon as a dragon was unloaded, he took off to allow another to land. The waters of the cove were full of splashing, playing dragons. Ruth was standing on the eastern tip of the cove, head turned skyward, bugling welcome after welcome. A full fair of fire-lizards chattered at one another on the roof of the shelter.
"Sear and scorch it, will you look at that?" Piemur called at Jaxom's side. Then he chuckled and rubbed his hands. "One thing for sure, no chopping today!"
"Jaxom! Piemur" The two swung round at F'nor's cheerful greeting and saw the brown rider striding toward them. Following close on his heels were the Mastersmith Fandarel, Masterwoodsman Bendarek, N'ton and, from his shoulder knots, a wingleader from Benden. Jaxom thought he was T'gellan.
"Did I give you the two drawings last night, Jaxom? I can't find them… Ah, here they are!" F'nor pointed to the sheets on the small table-Brekke's original drawing and the alterations suggested by Sharra. The brown rider retrieved the sheets and showed them to the Craftmasters. "Now, here, Fandarel, Bendarek, this is our idea .. ."
Acting as one, the two men lifted the sheets from F'nor's hands and scrutinized first one then the other. Both shook their heads slowly from side to side in disapproval.
"Not very efficient, F'nor, but well meant," the huge Smith said.
"Weyrleader R'mart allowed me sufficient riders to bring in well-seasoned hardwoods for the frame," Bendarek told the Smith.
"I have piping for water and other conveniences, metals for a proper hearth and fitments, kitchen implements, windows . .."
"Lord Asgenar insisted that I bring stonesmiths. Proper foundations and flooring must be well laid . .."
"First we must correct this design. Master Bendarek…"
"I quite agree. This is a nice enough little cot but not at all suitable accommodation for the Masterharper of Pern."
The two Craftmasters became so involved in amplifying the rough sketches that, oblivious to the other occupants of the room, they moved as one toward the table Jaxom had contrived for his charts. Piemur leaped forward and rescued his pouch of notes and sketches. The Masterwoodsman, ignoring any such interruptions to his thoughts, took a clean sheet, slipped a writing tool from a pocket and began, with neat lines, to draw what he had in mind. The Smith, taking a sheet of his own, began to delineate his ideas.
"Honest, Jaxom," F'nor said, his eyes crinkling with amusement, "all I did was ask F'lar and Lessa if I could draft a few more helpers. Lessa gave me a stern look; F'lar said I was to recruit as many free riders as I needed and, at dawn, the rim of the Weyr was packed solid with dragons and half the Craftmasters of Pern! Lessa must have bespoken Ramoth, who evidently told everyone in Pern . .."
"You gave them the excuse they needed, F'nor," Piemur said, surveying the traffic on the once-quiet beach, the throngs of riders and craftsmen piling dragonloads on the already crowded perimeters.
"Yes, I know, but I hadn't expected such a response. And how could I tell 'em they couldn't come?"
"I think," said Sharra, who had joined them, "that this is quite a tribute to the Masterharper." Her eyes caught Jaxom's and he knew that she was aware of his ambivalent feelings about this invasion of their private, peaceful cove.
Then Jaxom saw F'nor watching him and managed a weak smile. "Yesterday's blisters will have a chance to heal, I guess. Right, Piemur?"
Piemur nodded, his jaw muscles working as he observed the activity on the beach. "I'd better find Stupid. All this confusion has probably scared him deep into the forest. Farli!" He held up his arm for his fire-lizard, who swooped down from the roof. "Find Stupid, Farli. Lead me to him!"
The fire-lizard looked over her left shoulder and chirped, and Piemur strode off in that direction without a backward glance.
"That young man's been alone too long," F'nor said.
"Yes!"
"You know how he feels?" F'nor asked, grinning at Jaxom's terse reply. He clapped him on the shoulder. "I wouldn't let it get to me, if I were you, Jaxom. With the amount of help we've got, the hold will be up in next to no time. You'll have your peace and quiet back."
"Idiots!" Sharra exclaimed suddenly.
Jaxom, avoiding F'nor's quizzical expression, looked at her. She'd been half-listening to the conversation between the two Masters.
"Now I have to have it out with them!" Her fists were clenched with exasperation as she strode purposefully up to the two Craftsmen. "Masters, I must point out something you have clearly overlooked. This is hot country You're both used to cold winters and freezing rains. If you build this hold on those lines, people will stifle in the full heat of summer which is almost upon us. Now, where I live in Southern Hold, we build thick walls to keep the heat out and the cool in. We build off the ground so air circulates under the floor and keeps that cool. We build lots of windows-wide ones-and you've brought enough metal shutters, Master Fandarel, to outfit a dozen holds. Yes, I know, but Thread doesn't fall every day and the heat does. Now .. ."