R’gul as Weyrleader. That rankled Lessa deeply. He was so patently inadequate. But his Hath had taken Nemorth on her last flight. Traditionally (and that word was beginning to nauseate Lessa for the sins of omission ascribable to its name) the Weyrleader was the rider of the queen’s mate. Oh, R’gul looked the part—a big, husky man, physically vigorous and domineering, his heavy face suggesting a sternly disciplined personality. Only, to Lessa’s thinking, the discipline was misdirected.

Now F’lar . . . he had disciplined himself and his wingriders in what Lessa considered the proper direction. For he, unlike the Weyrleader, not only sincerely believed in the Laws and Traditions he followed, he understood them. Time and again she had managed to make sense of a puzzling lesson from a phrase or two F’lar tossed in her direction. But, traditionally, only the Weyrleader instructed the Weyrwoman.

Why, in the name of the Egg, hadn’t Mnementh, F’lar’s bronze giant, flown Nemorth? Hath was a noble beast, in full prime, but he could not compare with Mnementh in size, wingspread, or strength. There would have been more than ten eggs in that last clutch of Nemorth’s if Mnementh had flown her.

Jora, the late and unlamented Weyrwoman, had been obese, stupid, and incompetent. On this everyone agreed. Supposedly the dragon reflected its rider as much as the rider the dragon. Lessa’s thoughts turned critical. Undoubtedly Mnementh had been as repelled by the dragon, as a man like F’lar would be by the rider—unrider, Lessa corrected herself, sardonically glancing at the drowsing S’lel.

But if F’lar had gone to the trouble of that desperate duel with Fax to save Lessa’s life back in Ruath Hold to bring her to the Weyr as a candidate at the Impression, why had he not taken over the Weyr when she proved successful, and ousted R’gul? What was he waiting for? He had been vehement and persuasive enough in making Lessa relinquish Ruatha and come to Benden Weyr. Why, now, did he adopt such an aloof pose of detachment as the Weyr tumbled further and further into disfavor?

“To save Pern,” F’lar’s words had been. From what if not R’gul? F’lar had better start salvation procedures. Or was he biding his time until R’gul blundered fatally? R’gul won’t blunder, Lessa thought sourly, because he won’t do anything. Most particularly he wouldn’t explain what she wanted to know.