“Talenth and Tolarth will come, too,” Fiona said, sending a silent order to the two queens. The other riders looked at her in surprise, so she explained, “Well, you can’t expect Terin’s Kurinth to fly with us, can you? She’s a little young yet!”

F’jian nodded emphatically even as he looked a little wistful. Fiona laughed at his expression. “Just give them time, F’jian, give them time!”

The remaining bronze riders joined in with her until the youngest bronze rider raised his hands in surrender and rose from his chair with all the dignity he could still muster.

T’mar caught up with her after the others had filed out. “That was a good idea, to have the queens along.”

Fiona nodded. “And we need the exercise,” she said in agreement, spearing him with a look as she added, “I don’t want to get fat after all!”

T’mar grimaced as the barb struck home but a moment later his expression changed. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

“As will Jeila,” Fiona said. “We’re not going that far and we’re not going to time it, so we’ll only get three coughs between.”

T’mar’s eyes took on a troubled look as he digested her words but he, wisely, merely nodded in agreement.

“We’re both early enough, as far as the Records indicate, that even a longer jump poses no threat,” Fiona assured him. “It’s the end of the first trimester and the beginning of the third that are the most susceptible.” She paused for a long moment, then added sweetly, “And, by the way, how did you know I was pregnant?”

T’mar blushed bright red, unable to speak.

“Really, it’s too early to tell,” Fiona said when she decided that she’d had enough enjoyment at his expense. “And Bekka says that nothing’s really certain until about the twelfth week.” She gave him a challenging look, quirking her eyes upward questioningly.

“I was hoping,” T’mar said.

Fiona burst into a bright grin. “Good! Don’t forget that when it comes time for diapers.”

Telgar’s Weyrleader snorted in amusement, his eyes dancing.

Fiona and Jeila were very careful going between, even going so far as to obey H’nez’s admonition to wait until the fighting dragons had arrived over Upper Bitra and could give them a sense of the winds before setting out.

The cold of between seemed harsher and longer to Fiona, even as bundled up as she was in the extra wher-hide vest that Bekka had insisted upon for both the weyrwomen.