"Mihall did," R'bert said, offering round the klah pot.

Jean rolled her eyes and Uloa sighed, stretching warily.

"D'you think he'll bring back a hot bath?" she asked.

"That would be heaven," Jean said. "What did Ozzie say about the possibility of tapping into some thermals here?"

"He said that it was possible if there was enough pipeline left from doing Tillek, " Torene said, thinking longingly of a hot bath herself.

We could go back to Fort? Alaranth suggested.

I don't think I have muscles enough to climb up to your back, Torene replied.

She was half-asleep when the riders returned. Not only had they brought fresh fruit and several braces of chickens, but each dragon had a fat bullock or cow struggling in his claws. These were deposited down by the lake, where they bawled out their terror for hours before finally settling.

"Where'd you find the chickens?" Jean asked, eyes wide with delighted surprise.

"They take shelter in the old caves, the Catherine caves, I think they were called," Mihall said.

"Yes, they were," Jean said as she watched him untie the chickens' legs. Squawking, each released fowl ran off into the bowl. "We've nothing to feed them with."

"I think I threw some crusts and heels onto the compost heap," Torene said, and got up.

Mihall caught her by the shoulder. "If it's there, they'll find it on their own. What's the matter?" he added as he saw her wince.

"My shoulder's stiff."

"Whose isn't?" Uloa said, groaning and rubbing her own shoulder.

"Didn't one of you think to bring some numbweed?" Mihall asked with a grin.

A widespread groan answered the question: the remedy was so obvious! Jean stiffly began to get to her feet. "My pack's nearest."

Mihall reached out to prevent her. "Where? Let me get it."

"Oh, would you? I'm in the third cave on the left on the first level. It's an easy climb."

When Mihall returned with the numbweed, they took turns rubbing the salve into abused muscles. Somehow—and she couldn't reject the courtesy without sounding uncivil—Mihall managed to be available to work on Torene's shoulders. Then she was much too grateful for the sure, firm touch of his massaging fingers as he worked the salve in.

"Thanks, Mihall," she said, rotating shoulder blades that no longer ached.

"Just take it easy tomorrow or you'll be back to me again," he said, and turned to Genteelly, who was waiting for similar ministrations.

Because of the massage she slept easier that night—once she tuned out the bawling of the cattle. The next day, at an appropriate hour, she asked Polenth to have David bring along a big jar of the numbweed when they returned from Fort to Benden.

In effect, they now worked two shifts: those staying at Benden did the first one, then took a rest break when the Fort-based contingent arrived, fresh. The four Benden wings, excused from Threadfall at Fort, began to catch the eastern Falls, to see how they could protect the newly named Benden Hold property. A nearby source of phosphine-bearing rock was indicated on the survey maps, and David sent a work group of blue and brown riders to begin to stockpile the all-important firestone.

A team arrived from Tarvi Telgar to set up the hypocaust system in the Hatching Ground, so the campers moved their belongings across the Bowl to what would be the living quarters. The first hearth and its chimney were built against an outside wall. Ozzie and Svenda Bonneau plumbed for and found a thermal vent, and Fulmar Stone supplied the pump and instructed his apprentices in setting the pipes that would supply the individual weyrs as well as the main living accommodations.

More cattle and other types of herd beasts that had managed to survive Threadfall in the South were added to the herd that occupied the lake end of the craters. The chickens laid, and it became a regular early-morning exercise to find where, in the sands, the eggs had been secreted. Some were left to the broody hens, but others supplied the cooks. Julie, the fourth queen rider for Benden Weyr, arrived from Big Island on her Rementh, who had finally recovered from wing scoring. Julie, who was still in a gelicast for the broken leg she'd incurred trying to dismount in a hurry to tend to her queen, announced that she'd act as domestic manager.

Then Captain Kaarvan and the Pernese Venturer dropped anchor at the mouth of Benden River, and the promised assistance from Ierne broke trail to be the first to make use of the access tunnel. The workers they supplied included masons and carpenters, and soon individual caves became proper weyrs, with partitions between dragon and rider accommodations, and even private bathrooms.

Work was also done on what would be the quarters of the two Weyrleaders, the large room that would be used for private conferences, and one below that which could be an office for the Weyrleaders.

No one minded the hard work and the long hours, because they were building for their own comfort as well as that of generations to come. So they built well and carefully.

When the Benden Weyrfolk decided that sufficient provision for them had been made, they and their dragons flew down to the Hold, which was progressing more slowly, and, used the skills they had learned to help the holders settle into their new accommodation.

The only break the Benden riders took was to attend the Hatching at Fort. That was always a glad occasion for dragonriders and could not be missed, especially when most of the sixteen hatchlings had been assigned to Benden Weyr. That provoked a complaint from F'mar, in the name of Telgar Weyr, although work on that facility had not even started.

"The next clutch will go to you, F'mar, especially as you've no place to put them yet but here at Fort," Sean said dismissively.

"Young Fulmar better stop hassling Sean," Jean murmured to the other Benden queen riders. "Especially if he keeps on acting like he's already Weyrleader. That's a long way from being decided."

"But someone has to be in charge, sort of, don't they?" Torene asked. "I mean, David…"

"David Caterel has the right," Jean said firmly. "You've no complaints, have you?" She eyed Torene speculatively.

"Me? No. He listens to any objections, anyway," she said, once again made conscious of the fact that although no one said anything to the point of her being Benden's Weyrwoman, everyone knew, and tended to turn to her for decisions and opinions.

Working shoulder to shoulder, day after day, with the bronze and brown riders had given Torene a good chance to get to know them all. She liked most of them, so she supposed Alaranth would have the final say. Of the younger riders, N'klas, L'ren, T'mas, and D'vid kept as much in her company as possible. David Caterel was always courteous to her, but he treated all the women riders the same way, even Julie, whom his Polenth had last flown. Mihall had a knack of appearing when she was in trouble—like when the cutter jammed, or when she was trying to roll a heavy boulder out of the way. It got so she almost expected him to be there when she needed a hand. Some-what to her chagrin, he never lingered, but returned to whatever task he had interrupted to help her. Meanwhile, the Weyrleaders' quarters remained unoccupied.

It was Mihall who cried "Get the queens away!" while people were finishing their midday meal. He came pounding into the lower cavern, straight up to Torene. He caught her hand and, pulling her to her feet, urged her to action. "Get your queens out of here, Jean, Uloa. Where's Julie gone?"

Licking the fingers of her right hand, which were sticky from peeling red fruit, Torene did not resist Mihall's urgent tugging.

"How could she go into heat without me noticing?" she cried. She had been keeping such a close watch on Alaranth—or so she had thought.

"Today, because she's been lounging in the sun," Mihall said, and turned her by the hand he held so that she was facing the right way. He pointed. "She's more than just gold right now."