it.”
“What if we find we need you?” T’mar asked.
K’rall shrugged. “Send someone forward to bring us back again.”
“What about when the others recover?” Fiona asked.
“N’jian can train with them, as I’ve trained with this lot, and then bring them forward,” K’rall said. He gave T’mar a broad smile as he caught the other’s surprise at the recommendation and nodded toward Fiona. “I know that sounds strange coming from me, but this Weyrwoman’s done a lot to broaden my horizons.” He pursed his lips tightly before admitting to T’mar, “And so have you.”
T’mar gave the older rider a grateful look. “I’m sure you would have done the same.”
“I’m not so sure,” K’rall said, shaking his head. Glancing frankly at Fiona, he added, “I’m afraid I might have decided that this one here was too young for such duties.”
“And perhaps I am,” Fiona said. Before K’rall could argue with her she continued, “We won’t really know until we return to our time, ready and able to fight Thread with four full wings.”
“She’s right,” T’mar said. “The test comes when we’re needed.”
“I just hope all this — this — ” He framed his head with his hands to indicate the muzzy-headedness that affected them all. “ — noise will go away when we get back.”
“I’ve been dealing with it since I Impressed,” Fiona said. “I’m sure you’ll handle it.”
“It’s got something to do with timing it, I’m certain,” K’rall said. “And that’s another good reason to take people forward as soon as they’re able — this strain puts everyone on edge; we’ll have fights if we’re not careful.”
“T’mar and I, and some of the other weyrlings, have managed without fighting,” Fiona said.
“But you prove my point,” K’rall told her. “You and T’mar and some of the weyrlings have been fighting this since before we came back in time and it’s cost you — you could have done so much more without the distraction.” He shook his head irritably, adding, “But that’s not my point. If it affects you so differently from most, there’s no telling if it won’t affect others even worse.”
“Well, we’ve had no fights yet,” T’mar said not quite refuting the older rider.
“We’ve been here just more than two months,” K’rall reminded him. “What will you be like three Turns from now?”
T’mar smiled and shook his head. “I suppose you’ll have to find out.”
“Of course,” Fiona said, “if you leave now, you’ll miss the wedding.” There was no need to specify which wedding: all the Weyr was talking about Zenor and Nuella.
“But he hasn’t even proposed yet!” K’rall exclaimed.
“He hasn’t made the ring yet, so he can’t propose,” Fiona said.
“He’s started practicing,” Terin said with a smile. “I heard from Arella that he’s been cursing nonstop since Stirger set up that solar forge.” With a shrug, she added, “Of course that might have been for the price he charged.”
The others smiled. Journeyman Stirger was a prickly, ill-tempered, opinionated, arrogant, and stubborn man, but he was honest enough to admit it. He was also quick to apologize and admit his mistakes. His apology to Fiona had almost had her forgive him, and had caused her to realize that she had some of her father’s tendencies to hold on to a grudge longer than sensible.
“Ah, but once Stirger thought up the idea, it was Zenor who figured how to mass produce them and market them,” Fiona said. “And with that he’s recouped Stirger’s price twice over.”
“And found himself rated apprentice to the Smithcraft,” T’mar remarked, remembering the dazed look of the young man when Mastersmith Veclan had sent down the package containing smith garb and badges.
“At least Terregar is there to keep order,” K’rall remarked. He had a grudging respect for red-haired, hot- tempered Zenor, but Terregar’s steadiness was more in keeping with K’rall’s temperament and though he had more than ten Turns on the smith, they had forged a bond of friendship.
“Terregar!” Fiona exclaimed with a snort. “It’s Silstra that runs the place.” She shook her head as she mused, “I’m surprised Veclan was willing to let her go; she was doing much the same at the Smith Hall.”
“Ah, but she’s a wise woman and she’d been training her replacement,” Terin said, with a touch of wistfulness. She’d spent some time helping Silstra. The older woman had been to the Weyr on Fiona’s invitation, and her sharp eyes missed nothing as she examined the Kitchen Cavern, the supply rooms, and the rest of the Weyr, she was both free with her praise and profuse with her advice. Terin glanced around the large Kitchen Cavern now as she added almost mournfully, “And she managed to get Sula from Mine Natalon to handle the hearth so as to let her concentrate on other holding matters.”
“And you watched her every move, memorized the best of them, and ever since have been hounding the weyrlings like a queen dragon about to mate,” K’rall said, wagging a finger at her while his eyes danced with humor.
“It’s only sensible,” Terin muttered not quite sure whether his words were meant as ridicule or praise.
“Which brings us back to cattle,” T’mar said.
“So it does,” K’rall agreed, lowering his hand back to his lap. He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, there was sorrow in his voice. “While I’d hate to miss the wedding, I don’t think we can afford to wait.”
T’mar made a face but could offer no dissent. He lowered his head, resting his chin on an upraised hand, his elbow propped on the table in his favorite thinking position.
“It’ll mean more work for the older weyrlings,” Terin said.
“The younger ones won’t be ready to fly for at least another seven months,” K’rall observed.
“Six months, ten days, to be exact,” Fiona corrected with a wry grin. “We make the count every day just to be sure.”
K’rall smiled indulgently at her. “It’s been many, many, many Turns since Seyorth was a weyrling, and I still haven’t forgotten how we were always counting down the days.”
“How about this,” T’mar said, looking up at the others. “We stop by the wherhold tomorrow morning early, and if we can’t glean a definite date, we let K’rall and the others leave tomorrow evening.”
“We can be ready in a day,” K’rall agreed. “I certainly would hate to miss the wedding.”
They found Zenor no more ready to forge his gold wedding ring in the next sevenday than he had been in the sevenday before and so the next evening, reluctantly, K’rall and the other convalescent riders readied themselves for the jump forward in time.
Fiona made a special effort throughout the day to say something in parting to each rider and every dragon that was going forward, while attending to her other duties. Even so, when the thirty-one dragons and riders gathered at dusk in the Weyr Bowl, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as though she were saying good-bye forever.
“When we meet again, Weyrwoman, you’ll be flying
Fiona nodded, not trusting her voice. K’rall eyed her for a moment and then grabbed her into a great big hug. Almost as quickly he released her again, seeming abashed at his actions. Fiona leaned forward and up to kiss him on the cheek. “Fly well, K’rall!”
T’mar stepped over to K’rall, repeating the instructions for a final time: “Come
“Five hundred and one after Landing,” K’rall finished for him. He gave T’mar a tight nod. “We’ll meet you then.” He turned to Terin, who huddled unobtrusively behind Fiona. “When we meet again, you’ll be as old as the Weyrwoman is now!”
Terin nodded, her eyes gone wide at the thought. K’rall gave her a moment more to speak and, when she remained mute, shook his head. “Can I hope we’ll get a welcome feast?”
“Of course!” Terin said, suddenly bubbling with words. “I’ll cook your favorite meals, and we’ll have ices and — ”
“Glad to hear it, lass.” K’rall cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I’ll leave it for you to surprise us.”
With a final nod to T’mar and Fiona, the older rider clambered up his dragon’s foreleg and settled himself into his riding straps, tightening them with exaggerated motions to make certain that Fiona knew he was being careful.
“Wouldn’t want to fall off in a jump of three Turns,” he called down.
