“I’m glad to hear that,” T’mar said. “I’d hate to think that the Weyrwoman of Igen was being served

second-class wine.”

“The Weyrwoman of Igen is not sure she wants to be served any wine for a long time,” Fiona told

him.

“I understand,” T’mar said with feeling. “All the same, I’m glad that you two had some time to

yourselves, away from all this . . .” He gestured to the gathering riders, groping for the right word.

“Maleness?” Fiona suggested.

“I was going for exuberance,” T’mar said, “but I think you’ve got the better word for it.” He paused a

moment before adding solicitously, “Is it a great strain for you two?”

“Being the only women who came from our time?” Fiona asked in clarification. At T’mar’s reluctant

nod, she continued, “Yes, it is. A strain and a temptation, too.”

T’mar sighed. “I was afraid that it would come to that at some point.”

“But do you think that you could have managed without us?”

T’mar pondered the question for only a moment before shaking his head resolutely. “No.”

“So,” Fiona continued, “that being the case, we shall just have to persevere, shan’t we?”

“You’re old enough, and Talenth is old enough, that you two could go back to Fort Weyr—”

“Oh, no!” Fiona cut across him. “I’m Igen’s Weyrwoman, wingleader, and I will stay until we all go

back!”

Wisely, T’mar said nothing in reply.

But if T’mar said nothing, he made up for it in his actions over the next several months. There wasn’t a

day when the dragonriders weren’t drilling: flaming or practicing formations or practicing formations and

flaming or practicing formations, flaming, and going between all at the same time. He drove everyone to

exhaustion. Tempers flared, but no blows were exchanged until the beginning of the third month since

Fiona’s visit to the wherhold.

Fiona and Terin, for their part, had found themselves often at the Wherhold—one of them was there at

least one night every sevenday. Terin and Fiona both had experience changing Nalla’s diapers, feeding

her, and wiping spittle and other bodily fluids off of her and themselves when things went wrong. Partly

this was a consequence of Terin’s insistence that they provide Nuella and Zenor with time to themselves.

Privately, Fiona was pretty certain that Zenor and Nuella had no lack of volunteers from among the

remaining holders—after all, for all their humility, they were the Lord and Lady of the wherhold, and even

if they found it strange, the rest of the holders from Silstra on down felt it not only their duty but their

honor to treat them with the respect and deference that would be given any Lord Holder.

Terin’s services were more than simple repayment of a kindness: They were part of a trade she’d