'I'm going to get to ride you?' Robinton asked, his voice nearly a squeak in his excitement.
'You're certainly getting to ride my dragon,' the rider said.
Robinton tried to crane his head around and look up at C'rob.
'Yes, I am,' he said. Then he realized he was holding on to the neck ridge in front of him in a fierce grip, and instantly relaxed. 'Oh, I beg your pardon! I didn't hurt you, did I?'
Of course not, the ridge is there to hold on to, Spakinth said in the same instant that C'rob laughed and said: 'You won't hurt a dragon that way, lad.' And then he leaned to one side and regarded Robinton with raised eyebrows. 'But then Spakinth is telling you, too, isn't he?' The rider seemed surprised.
Robinton grinned back, flexing his fingers around the ridge just for the feel of it. 'Cortath and Kilminth have spoken to me, too.'
'Have they ...' And then C'rob's attention was taken by Merelan's arrival behind him. 'Just hang on to my belt there,
MasterSinger,' the rider said. 'I've your son safely tucked forward.' 'Then may we leave?'
Robinton thought his mother must be as excited as he was to be mounted on a dragon, because her voice, when she answered, was quavery.
In the next instant, his head was thrown back against C'rob's chest as Spakinth sprang upwards. Robinton barely heard himself let out a whoosh of 'Ohhhhhh' over the noise the wings made ... like all the sheets in the Harper Hall flapping in the wind on the laundry line.
He squealed again as Spakinth circled eastward, spiralling higher, the tall roofs of the Harper Hall buildings diminishing so fast he hadn't breath for a second cry of amazement as the spiral took them high over Fort Hold's massive precipice. Briefly he saw white faces turned skywards and wondered if they could recognize him perched in front of the dragonrider on bronze Spakinth.
'Don't be afraid, now, Robinton,' C'roh said, almost shouting in his ear. 'We're going between ...'
And then they were! Robinton held his breath, far more terrified of the awful cold nothingness around him than of the worst of his childish nightmares.
I am here. You ride me with C'rob and the woman. I will keep you safe, young Robinton.
And before a scream of fear could rise in Robinton's throat, they were out of the cold and the black and wheeling above another Hold cliff.
'That's Benden below you, lad.' C'rob patted his shoulder. 'And not a peep out of you. Nor did you wet your breeches.'
Robinton was stunned by such a shocking suggestion and stiffened under C'rob's hand. Very quietly, so that not even Spakinth could hear and think badly of him, Robinton knew that just a moment longer in frigid between and he might well have disgraced himself.
Many do, young Robinton, but never you.
And young Robinton sat up straighter and loosened the vice-like grip he found he had taken on the neck ridge. He hoped dragons didn't bruise, and he smoothed the places where his fingers actually had made an imprint. Spakinth said nothing as he was busy landing, which required powerful back-winging to set himself down just in front of the steps up to the smaller outer court of Benden Hold.
'They're here! Spakinth and C'rob brought them. She's come!' And out of the wide-open front door spilled a crowd of children.
Spakinth curved his neck and lowered his head towards those racing down the steps.
Always noisy, always noisy, the dragon said, more to himself than to either his rider or Robinton. Robinton was later to learn that C'rob had fathered five children at Benden Weyr, and consequently his dragon was well able to handle the swarm which converged on him, stroking his hide and his eye ridges when he lowered them enough.
Then Lord Maidir and Lady Hayara, who was carrying one child and obviously pregnant with another, came out to welcome the MasterSinger and her son. As Merelan slid down Spakinth's side, C'rob settled Robinton between the next two ridges up so that he could stand on Spakinth's lifted foreleg and assist the boy to the ground. Holder children swarmed up the dragon's side – momentarily stunning Robinton with what seemed like rudeness to him – to untie the carisaks. They weren't the least bit afraid, as Libby and Lexey had been, but then, Robie thought, they'd be used to dragons at Benden Hold since Benden Weyr was still inhabited. Each grinned at Robinton, identifying themselves politely, but he was so confused by the onslaught of new impressions and their enthusiasm that he couldn't remember who was who. Then his mother took him by the hand and led him to be formally introduced to the Holders.
He bowed before he shook hands, just as he'd been taught, and was rewarded with smiles.
'We want you to be happy here at Benden Hold,' Lady Hayara said.
Robinton thought she looked very young, not much older than Halanna, and Lord Maidir looked older than even Master Gennell.
Lord Maidir gestured for the stocky lad standing just behind him to come forward.
'This is Raid, my eldest son, MasterSinger,' the Lord Holder said with pride, laying an arm across the boy's shoulders.
A shaft of totally incomprehensible envy swept Robinton. His father had never done that. His father didn't even touch him – that he could remember. And then a girl, not as old as Raid, pushed through to Raid's other side, neatly pushing Lady Hayara aside.
And Robinton caught a quickly hidden flare of dismay on Lady Hayara's face and the indifferent look on the girl's.
'And this is my eldest daughter,' Lord Maidir said, 'Maizella.' 'I'm so glad you've come, MasterSinger,' Maizella began in a fervent tone, and she stepped forward to grab and cling to Merelan's hand, her eyes round with excitement and her voice coming out breathily.
'Our Maizella has a lovely voice,' Maidir said proudly, 'and Raid, if you can overcome his shyness, has an excellent baritone. Falloner there, the one with all the curls, still has a fine clear treble ...'
As Falloner was just then standing close to Robinton, he gave him a 'What can you do with adults?' shrug and grin – and that was their first meeting.
'Oh, you!' said Lady Hayara, stepping closer to her spouse now that Maizella had moved.
Robinton sighed. He knew by the expression on Maizella's face and by her stance that his mother was going to have trouble with this one. He saw by the quirk of his mother's mouth that she realized it, too. But Merelan smiled soothingly and said that she'd be delighted to teach any and all who wanted to learn how to sing properly.
'Actually, she shrieks more than she sings,' Falloner said in a low voice to Robinton, the merriment in his eyes conspiratorial.
'Did you like riding Spakinth? C'rob won the toss. He usually does.' Then, when the lad saw that he had confused Robinton with his confidence, he added, 'I'm weyrbred, but my father insisted that I get some teaching here. So here I am.'
'You're weyrbred?' Robinton eyed the lad.
'I am, and I don't have a tail or fangs, nor will I, even if I
Impress a bronze.' The boy's thin face momentarily stiffened with determination before the careless grin replaced it. 'And I will. And be Weyrleader and save Pern from Threadfall.'
'Really? Cortath said that dragons must fly when Thread is in the sky.'
'You'd better believe it,' Falloner said stoutly. Then he blinked in surprise. 'Cortath spoke to you?'
'Falloner.'
Both boys turned at Lord Maidir's voice.
'You know the quarters made ready for the MasterSinger and young Robinton,' Benden's Lord went on. 'Why don't you show him the way and take up his things?'
'Of course, Lord Maidir,' Falloner said with quick courtesy. He turned to Robinton. 'Which are yours?'
Robie looked at the pile on the steps and wasn't quite sure. Their departure had certainly been swift; Mother had packed for him.
'The two with the red straps,' Merelan said, pointing and giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 'And that small one there.' Robinton did recognize that as the one in which she had put the contents of his desk and, while that wasn't very long ago, it seemed to him that a great deal had happened in a very short time.
Falloner threw the school sack at him and then hefted the other two, though Robinton tried to take one from
