“How do you think the Lords will react to Lord Meron of Nabol?”

“React to Meron?” Robinton snorted derisively. “By ignoring him, of course. Not that his opinion would influence the Conclave…”

“I don’t mean that. I mean his possession of a fire-lizard—” Lytol broke off as the Harper stared at him. “You didn’t hear? The messenger went through Ruatha Hold yesterday, bound for Fort Hold and your Crafthall.”

“He missed me or—was he free with his news?”

“To me, yes. I seem to attract confidences…”

“Fire-lizard? What about them? I used to spend hours trying to catch one. Never did. In fact I never heard of one being caught. How did Meron manage the trick?”

Lytol grimaced, the tic beginning in his cheek. “They can be Impressed. There always was that nursery tale that fire-lizards are the ancestors of dragons.”

“And Meron of Nabol Impressed one?”

Lytol gave a mirthless laugh. “Unlikely, I grant you. The fire-lizards exhibit a woeful lack of taste. But you can rest assured that Meron of Nabol would not waste time on fire-lizards if they weren’t of use to him.”

Robinton considered this and then shrugged. “I don’t think you need be concerned. But how did Nabol get one? How can they be Impressed? I thought that was strictly a draconic trait.”

“How Lord Meron of Nabol acquired one is what bothers me the most,” Lytol said, glowering. “That Southern Weyrwoman, Kylara, brought him a whole clutch of eggs. Of course, they lost most in the Hatching, but the few that survived are making quite a stir in Nabol Hold. The messenger had seen one, and he was all bright-eyed in the telling. ‘A regular dragon in miniature,’ he said, and he’s all for trying his luck on the sandy beaches in Southern Boll and Fort from the gleam in his eye.”

“ ‘A regular dragon in miniature,’ huh?” Robinton began to turn the significance of this around in his mind. He didn’t like the angles he saw.