"Seems to me one queen or another's broody all the time," Red said with a chuckle.

"Which also means the dragon population is growing large enough to protect four Holds," Paul said, with justifiable pride. "Maybe more, if the ‘premises' are feasible. Telgar says he'd like to be closer to the ore lodes in the eastern mountain range. He's done as much as he can to improve the warrens of the Fort." He kept his voice level and added a smile at his use of the word "warrens."

Red wondered if his leaving, and Ongola's projected Hold, was causing more, or less, dissension in Fort.

"I think you and Ongola have given hope and inspiration. Despite Joel's concern over dwindling supplies, a lot of his inventory are items that will not be in demand again," Paul said with a wry grin. "We're stepping down to a lower level of technology, based on what is available to us here, not what we once had. That was, after all, the purpose of this colony. You've made it, so did Pierre, on a minimum of basics, and look what you've achieved." Paul gestured to the imposing facade behind him. "No, it's definitely time to stop huddling in Fort and move out. I'd like to see more evidence of courage in our people after the trauma of Threadfall and the dreadful loss of lives in the Fever Year."

"I think there're more than just Sean and Sorka coming," Ongola said, shielding his eyes with one big hand as he looked upward.

Everyone had to crane their necks to see dragons, gold, bronze, brown, blue, and green, settling themselves on the top of the Hold cliff-careful, Red hoped, to avoid the solar-panel installation.

"The more the merrier," Red said, laughing. "They make a brave sight there, don't they?"

"But they've no riders," Zi remarked.

"Didn't want to scare your beasts again, Red, " said Sean, emerging from the Hold, Sorka beside him, one arm crooked about her latest son. Behind them sauntered more riders. "We wanted to do you honor, and half a Wing seemed an appropriate escort."

Mairi and those she had taken inside the Hold were the last to emerge.

"They took the stairs down," she said in a distracted fashion, determined to wrest her grandson from his mother's arm, "so now I know why you insisted on carving steps all the way up, Red. It wasn't just to service the solar panels." She turned to Cecilia. "But we'd just got the stories cleaned up when he cut those steps and dust sifted all over again. Oh, isn't he a love, Sorka? What have you named him?"

"Ezremil," Sean said, slightly accenting the first vowel. It took a moment for people to register the fact that he had joined the names of two of the colony's heroes.

Tears came to Mairi's eyes. "Oh, what a splendid notion!"

"Oh, yes, indeed!" Ju Benden choked on a sob before she managed a laugh. "Much better than encumbering the poor lad with Ezra or Keroon or even Emile. We ought to use more such truly Pernese-style names."

Paul put an arm about his wife's shoulders, smiling fondly down at her. "We could really dispense with Surnames altogether. Ezremil of Fort Weyr! Ryan of—" Paul turned on Red. "What are you naming this place?"

Red shrugged. "It'll come to us. The right name will come to us. Now, can we get this door into position?"

With the dragons safely out of the sight of any animals, Red sent Brian to get the bullocks whose mighty thews would haul the airlock door up to the opening. That was the signal for everyone to gather in front of the Hold Red could see Mairi keeping an eye on the young toddlers, one of Brian's being the sort that got into everything first and, when scolded, would reply that no one had said he couldn't.

Authoritative cracks of the bullwhips started four yokes of oxen moving forward, with men at each wide head, to steady them up. Slowly, the heavy metal door rose from the sled. When it hung free, the men whom Peter Chernoff had chosen to help turned it sideways so that the hinges could be aligned. A very audible clunk indicated contact

"Hold!" Peter Chernoff said, raising both hands, and the oxen were halted in their tracks. The open clamps of the hinges were then shut, each with its own separate metallic clink. "Ease up!"

The oxen were backed, first one step, then another, taking the weight slowly off the hoist chains.

A loud hurray burst from the breathless onlookers.

"Hold that, too," Peter shouted. "We gotta be sure it"—and as he spoke, he leaned against the great door—"closes." Obediently the former airlock swung in with such ease that one man had to jump out of its way. Simultaneously Peter grabbed the beveled edge with a restraining hand and was dragged forward one step. Bracing himself he stopped the door from closing completely.

A second cheer went up. Peter, wiping sweat from his forehead, turned with an engaging grin and a sweeping bow to Red.

"My lord of the Hold, will you complete the ceremonial closing?"

Grabbing Mairi by the hand, and waiting only until she had time to pass Ezremil back to his mother, Red strode up the ramp to the imposing metal door. Then they both inspected Peter's handiwork. He had done well, adapting the thick airlock door to domestic purposes. Keeping Thread out was now as important a function as keeping atmosphere in had once been. Red nodded to Mairi, who put her hand over his on the interior wheel, and they both pulled the door to. With a powerful spin, Red turned the wheel and heard the bars thud home in their floor and ceiling sockets. The Hold was now closed!

"Wouldn't they be surprised if we didn't open it?" Red asked, embracing Mairi's still slender form against him.

"Yes, and I'd be furious, because I wouldn't get any of that succulent meat we've been roasting since midnight!" Mairi stood on tiptoe and kissed her husband.

"A very good point…" He gave an equally powerful reverse swing on the locking wheel and the bars slid free. Red gave the door a push. "Well, at least that devil of a grandson won't be able to open this door." He gave a heftier shove, and the door swung silently open.

He and Mairi strode forward to applause. He was briefly startled when the dragons on the heights added their deep voices to human cheers.

"Admiral, Commander, Weyrleaders, one and all, be welcome to—" He stopped short, a grin suddenly broadening across his face as inspiration seized him. "Be welcome to the Hold of Red's Ford. In the old language, Rua Atha."

"Ruatha!" Mairi called out in her clear voice, her eyes looking up to his for his approval of that elision. "Oh, that's a splendid name, Rua Hanrahan!"

"To Ruatha Hold!" he shouted.

"To Ruatha Hold!" was the roar of acceptance. And, for the first time on the heights of Ruatha Hold, the dragons of Pern lifted their heads and bugled in rejoicing!

You were over there again, weren't you?" Sorka said to Torene in an amused undertone as the young queen rider sauntered past the Weyrwoman on her way to the day hearth. The lower cavern was deserted at this hour: well past midday and not yet time to prepare the evening meal.

Torene grinned over her shoulder at Sorka as she continued to the hearth. She served herself some soup from the big pot, broke off a wedge of bread, and came back to the table where Sorka was also having a late lunch. She swung one of her elegantly leather-clad long legs over the low chair back and sat down, neatly putting her meal in front of her, all in one graceful movement.

"How'd you guess?"

Sorka had to grin at the girl's insouciance. Torene hovered on the edge of impudence but never quite offended. Of course that would have given both Sorka and Sean reasons to reprimand her, but she seemed instinctively to know the limits. Sorka would have been particularly loath to bring her up sharp because she, who had been a reserved child in the restricted society she had been born into on Earth, admired Torene's candid charismatic manner and her irrepressible gaiety. Sean found those traits less easy to deal with, but then, he was obsessed with the responsibilities of the Weyr and the nurture and care of the dragons, and he had never been very lighthearted to begin with.