Dragonquest by Anne McCaffrey Read Free Book Online Page A

instinctively trying to ease the growing tensions.
    â€œOf course, we’re entering our fall season now,” T’bor said, making it seem that Fort was to blame for the chill outside—and inside—the Weyr. “However, we expect to start pressing soon. We’ll distribute what we can spare to you northerners.”
    â€œWhat do you mean? What you can spare?” T’ron asked, staring hard at T’bor.
    â€œWell, Southern plays nurse to every wounded dragonrider. We need sufficient on hand to drown their sorrows adequately. Southern Weyr supports itself, you must remember.”
    F’lar stepped on T’bor’s booted foot as he turned to D’ram and inquired of the Istan Weyrleader how the last Laying had gone.
    â€œVery well, thanks,” D’ram replied pleasantly, but F’lar knew the older man did not like the mood that was developing. “Fauna’s Mirath laid twenty-five and I’ll warrant we’ve half a dozen bronzes in the clutch.”
    â€œIsta’s bronzes are the fastest on Pern,” F’lar said gravely. When he heard T’bor stirring restlessly beside him, he reached swiftly to Mnementh with a silent
“Ask Orth to please tell T’bor to speak with great thought for the consequences. D’ram and G’narish must not be antagonized.”
Out loud he said, “A weyr can never have too many good bronzes. If only to keep the queens happy.” He leaned back, watching T’bor out of the corner of his eye to catch his reaction when the dragons completed the message relay. T’bor gave a sudden slight jerk, then shrugged, his glance shifting from D’ram to T’ron and back to F’lar. He looked more rebellious than cooperative. F’lar turned back to D’ram. “If you need some likely prospects for any green dragons, there’s a boy . . .”
    â€œD’ram follows tradition, Benden,” T’ron cut in. “Weyrbred is best for dragonkind. Particularly for greens.”
    â€œOh?” T’bor glared with malicious intent at T’ron.
    D’ram cleared his throat hastily and said in a too loud voice, “As it happens, we’ve a good group of likely boys in our Lower Caverns. The last Impression at G’narish’s Weyr left him with a few he has offered to place at Ista Weyr. So I thank you kindly, F’lar. Generous indeed when you’ve eggs hardening at Benden too. And a queen, I hear?”
    D’ram exhibited no trace of envy for another queen egg at Benden Weyr. And Fauna’s Mirath hadn’t produced a single golden egg since she’d come time
between.
    â€œWe all know Benden’s generosity,” T’ron said in a sneering tone, his eyes flicking around the room, everywhere but at F’lar. “He extends help everywhere. And interferes when it isn’t needed.”
    â€œI don’t call what happened at the Smithhall interference,” D’ram said, his face assuming grave lines.
    â€œI thought we were going to wait for T’kul and R’mart,” G’narish said, glancing anxiously up the passageway.
    So, F’lar mused, D’ram and G’narish are upset by today’s events.
    â€œT’kul’s better known for the meetings he misses than the ones he attends,” T’bor remarked.
    â€œR’mart always comes,” G’narish said.
    â€œWell, they’re neither of them here. And I’m not waiting on their pleasure any longer,” T’ron announced, rising.
    â€œThen you’d better call in B’naj and T’reb,” D’ram suggested with a heavy sigh.
    â€œThey’re in no condition to attend a meeting.” T’ron seemed surprised at D’ram’s request. “Their dragons only returned from flight at sunset.”
    D’ram stared at T’ron. “Then why did you call the meeting for tonight?”
    â€œAt F’lar’s