Asgenar, a protest on his lips, started to follow but F’lar stopped him.

“He’s in no mood to be reasonable, Asgenar,” F’lar said, his face strained with anxiety. “If he won’t be reassured by today’s demonstrations, I don’t know what more we can do or say.”

“It’s the loss of the summer crops which bothers him,” Asgenar said. “Telgar Hold has been spreading out, you know. Larad’s attracted many of the small holders who’ve been dissatisfied in Nerat, Crom and Nabol and switched their allegiances. If the crops fail, he’s going to have more hungry people—and more trouble—than he can handle in the winter.”

“But what more can we do?” demanded F’lar, a desperate note in his voice. He tired so easily. The fever had left him little reserve strength, a state he found more frustrating than any other problem. Larad’s obduracy had been an unexpected disappointment. They’d been so lucky with every other man approached.

“I know you can’t send men on a blind jump to the Red Star,” Asgenar said, distressed by F’lar’s anxiety. “I’ve tried to tell my Rial where I want him to go. He gets frantic at times because he can’t see it clearly enough. Just wait until Larad starts sending his lizard about. He’ll understand. You see, what bothers him most is the realization that you can’t plan an attack on the Red Star.”

“Your initial mistake, my dear F’lar,” and the Harper’s voice was at its drollest, “was in providing salvation from the last imminent disaster in a scant three days by bringing up the Five Lost Weyrs. The Lord Holders really expect you to provide a second miracle in similar short order.”

The remark was so preposterous that F’nor laughed out loud before he could stop himself. But the tension and anxiety dissolved and the worried men regained some needed perspective.

“Time is all we need,” F’lar insisted.

“Time is what we don’t have,” Asgenar said wearily.

“Then let’s use what time we have to the best possible advantage,” F’lar said decisively, his moment of doubt and disillusion behind him. “Let’s work on Telgar. F’nor, how many riders can T’bor spare us to hunt larval sacks between time at Southern? You and N’ton can work out coordinates with them.”

“Won’t that weaken Southern’s protection?” asked Robinton.

“No, because N’ton keeps his eyes open. He noticed that a lot of sacks started in the fall get blown down or devoured during the winter months. So we’ve altered our methods. We check an area in spring to place the sacks that survive, go back to the fall and take some of those which didn’t last. There were a few wherries who missed a meal but I don’t think we disturbed the balance much.”