"I was hopeful you'd support my Hall," the Miner said with a bow of gratitude, his shrewd eyes glinting in the firelight.

"I'd say a talk was long overdue," the Harper remarked.

The dragonriders took their leave quickly, N'ton to deliver Master Nicat to Crom Hold from where they'd collect him the next morning. Robinton took Master Fandarel with him to Cove Hall. Piemur dragged Menolly off to check on Stupid, leaving Jaxom and Sharra to douse the fire and clear the beach.

"Your brother doesn't plan to hold the entire Southwest, does he?" Jaxom asked when the others had dispersed.

"Well, if not all, as much as he can," Sharra replied with a laugh. "I'm not being disloyal to him telling you this, Jaxom. You have your own Hold. You don't want Southern lands. Or do you?"

Jaxom considered that.

"You don't, do you?" Sharra sounded anxious and put her hand on his arm.

"No, I don't," he said. "No, much as I love this Cove, I don't want it. Today on the Plateau, I'd have given anything for a cool breeze from Ruatha's mountain, or a plunge in my lake. Ruth and I will take you there-it's such a beautiful place. Only a dragon can get to it easily." He picked up a flat pebble and skated it across the quiet swells that lapped the white sands of the beach. "No, I don't want a Southern Hold, Sharra. I was born in Ruatha, bred to Ruatha. Lessa obliquely reminded me of that this afternoon. She reminded me, too, of the price of my Holding and of all she's done to insure that I remain Lord of Ruatha. You do realize, don't you, that her son, F'lessan, is a Ruathan halfblood. That's more than I am."

"But he's a dragonrider!"

"Yes, and weyrbred, by Lessa's choice so that I would remain the uncontested Lord of Ruatha. I'd better start acting like one!" He rose and drew Sharra up.

"Jaxom?" and her tone was suspicious, "what are you going to do?"

He put both hands on her arms, looking her squarely in the eyes. "I've a Hold to manage, too, as your brother reminded me…"

"But you're needed here, with Ruth. He's the only one who can make sense out of fire-lizard images…"

"And with Ruth, I can handle both responsibilities. Manage my Hold and please myself. You'll see!" He drew her closer to kiss her, but suddenly she broke away from him, pointing over his shoulder, her face mirroring hurt and anger. "What's the matter? What have I done, Sharra?"

She pointed to the tree where two fire-lizards were intently watching.

"Those are Toric's. He's watching me. Us!"

"Great! Let him have no mistake about my intentions toward you!" He kissed her until he felt her taut body responding to his, till the angry set of her lips dissolved into willingness. "I'd give him more to see but I want to get back to Ruatha Hold this evening!" He rapidly drew on his riding gear and called to Ruth. "I'll be back in the morning, Sharra. Tell the others, will you?"

Do we have to leave? Ruth asked even as he bent his foreleg for Jaxom to mount.

"We'll be back in no time, Ruth!" Jaxom waved to Sharra, thinking how forlorn she looked standing there in the starlight.

Meer and Talla circled once with Ruth, whistling so cheerfully that he knew Sharra had accepted his precipitous departure.

His abrupt compulsion to return to Ruatha and set in train the formalities of his confirmation as Lord Holder was by no means entirely due to Toric's barbed comments. His own suppressed sense of responsibility had been heightened by Lessa's odd nostalgia at the mound. But it had also occurred to him, at the fireside, that a man of Lytol's vitality and experience might find the Plateau's mysteries a challenge sufficient to replace Ruatha. His return to his birthplace had the same inexorable quality of his decision to rescue the egg.

He asked Ruth to take them to Ruatha. The sharp bitter cold of between was instantly replaced by a damp moist cold as they entered Ruatha's skies, leaden and showering a fine light snow that must have been in progress for some time to have piled drifts in the southeast corners of the courts.

I used to like snow, Ruth said as if encouraging himself to accept the return.

Wilth trumpeted from the fire-heights in surprised welcome. Half the fire-lizards of the Hold exploded into the air about them, giving raucous greetings and spurts of cluttering complaint about the snow.

"We won't stay long, my friend," Jaxom reassured Ruth, and shuddered with the damp cold even in his warm flying gear. How had he forgot the season here?

Ruth landed in the courtyard just as the Great Hall door opened. Lytol, Brand and Finder surged to the steps.

"Is anything wrong, Jaxom?" Lytol cried.

"Nothing, Lytol, nothing. Can fires be laid in my quarters? I forgot it was winter here. Ruth is going to feel the difference even through dragonhide!"

"Yes, yes," Brand said, jogging across the court toward the kitchen, yelling for drudges to bring coal fires, while Lytol and Finder hurriedly ushered Jaxom up the steps. Ruth obediently followed the steward.

"You'll take a chill changing climates like this," Lytol was saying. "Why didn't you check? What brings you back?"

"Isn't it about time I did return?" Jaxom asked, striding to the fireplace as he stripped off his flying gloves and let his hands take warmth from the blaze. Then he burst out laughing as the other men joined him there. "Yes, at this fireplace!"

"What? At this fireplace?" Lytol asked, pouring wine for his ward.

"This morning, in the hot sun of the Plateau, while we were digging up one of the mounds the ancients left to puzzle us, Lessa told me that she had been taking ashes out of this fireplace the day my unlamented sire, Fax, escorted my lady mother Gemma to this Hold!" He raised his cup in a toast to the memory of the mother he had never known.

"Which obliquely reminded you that you are Lord of Ruatha now?" Lytol inquired, a slight lift to the comer of his mouth. His eyes, which before had seemed so expressionless to Jaxom, twinkled in the firelight.

"Yes, and showed me where a man of your talents could be better used now, Lord Lytol."

"Oh, tell me more," Lytol said, gesturing to the heavy carved chair which had been placed to get the most benefit of the fire.

"Don't let me take your chair," Jaxom said courteously, noticing that the cushions bore the recent imprint of buttocks and thighs.

"I suspect you're about to take more than that, Lord Jaxom."

"Not without due courtesy," Jaxom said, dragging a small footstool beside the chair for his own use. "And a challenge in its place." He was relieved at Lytol's placid reaction. "Am I, sir, ready to be Lord of Ruatha Hold now?"

"Are you trained, do you mean?"

"That, too, but I had in mind the circumstances which have made it wiser to leave Ruatha in your charge."

"Ay, yes."

Jaxom keenly watched Lytol to see if there was any constraint in his manner as he answered.

"The circumstances have indeed altered over the past two seasons," Lytol almost laughed, "thanks to you, in great part."

"To me? Oh, that wretched illness. So, there is now no real bar to my confirmation as Lord Holder?"

"I see none."

Jaxom heard the harper's soft intake of breath but he was watching Lytol closely.

"So," Lytol almost smiled, "may I know what has prompted you? Surely not just the realization that pressure is eased in the North? Or is it that pretty girl? Sharra, is that her name?"

Jaxom laughed. "She's a large part of my haste," lightly emphasizing the last word and then catching Finder's grin from the corner of his eye.

"A sister to Toric of the Southern Hold, isn't she?" Lytol pursued the subject, testing the suitability of the match.

"Yes, and tell me, Lytol, has there been any move to confirm Toric as a major Lord Holder?"

"No, nor any rumor that he's asked to be." Lytol scowled as he reflected on that circumstance. "What's your opinion of Toric, Lord Lytol?"