F’lar shook his head at her tactics, then hissed, because she was loosening the old, dried numbweed.

“I’m not so sure but what I’d prefer the physician—” she began.

“No!”

“He’d be discreet but I’ll warn you, all the dragons know.”

He stared at her in surprise. “I thought it odd there were so many dragons shadowing me and Mnementh. I don’t think we went between more than twice.”

“The dragons appreciate you, bronze rider,” Lessa said tartly, encircling him with clean, soft bandages.

“The Oldtimers, too?”

“Most of them. And more of their riders than I’d estimated. Only twenty riders and women followed Mardra, you know, from Fort. Of course,” and she grimaced, “most of T’kul’s people went. The fourteen who stayed are young riders, Impressed since the Weyr came forward. So there’ll be enough at Southern…”

“Southern is no longer our concern.”

She was in the act of handing him the fresh tunic and hesitated, the fabric gathered up in her hands. He took it from her, pulling on the sleeves, ducking his head into the opening, giving her time to absorb his dictum.

She sat slowly down on the bench, her forehead creased with a slight, worried frown.

He took her hands and kissed them. When she still did not speak, he stroked the hair which had escaped the braids.

“We have to make the break clean, Lessa. They can do no harm there to any but themselves. Some may decide to come back.”

“But they can perpetuate their grievances…”

“Lessa, how many queens went?”

“Loranth, the Weyr queen at High Reaches and the other two…Oh!”

“Yes. All old queens, well past their prime. I doubt Loranth will rise more than once. The clutches at High Reaches have produced only one queen since they came forward. And the young queen, Segrith, stayed, didn’t she, with Pilgra?”

Lessa nodded and suddenly her face cleared. She eyed him with growing exasperation. “Anyone would think you’ve been planning this for Turns.”

“Then anyone could call me a triple fool for underestimating T’ron, closing my mind to the facts in front of me and defying fortune. What’s the mood among holders and crafters?”

“Relief,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I admit the laughter has a slightly hysterical tinge, but Lytol and Robinton were right. Pern will follow Benden…”

“Yes, until my first mistake!”

She grinned mischievously at him, waggling a finger under his nose. “Ah-ha, but you’re not allowed to make mistakes, Benden. Not while…”