The other harpers talked while he ate, and when he had finally swallowed the last morsel, Bantur suggested they all leave to make room for more of Lord Laudeys guests. Then Bantur asked if Piemur would take a harpers turn on drum or gitar and, when Piemur saw Sebells discreet nod, he agreed with a show of enthusiasm to take a gitar part.
Why Piemur, I thought sure youd take a drum part, said Menolly, her expression so bland that he nearly rose to her bait.
Piemur restrained an urge to kick her in the shins and smiled sweetly at her instead. You heard today what the drummers think of me, he replied so demurely that Menolly chortled until her eyes filled.
As the harpers filed out of the Hall for the Gather, Sebell fell in step with Piemur.
Heard anything of interest?
Who talks during the days heat! asked Piemur with heartfelt disgust. He suspected that Sebell had known about desert daytime indolence.
Youll notice the change in them now, and youll only need to do the dance turns. If I gauge the Gather right, said Sebell, glancing ahead at Menollys slender figure in harper blue, theyll keep her singing until shes hoarse. They always do.
Piemur glanced swiftly at Sebell, wondering if the journeyman was aware of showing his feelings for the harper girl so openly.
The first dance turn was the longest and most energetic. The crisp night air stimulated the dancers gyrations until they were energetic beyond Piemurs credence. Quite a transformation from the languid manners of the afternoon. Then, as Bantur, Deece, Strud and Menolly remained on the platform to sing, Sebell nodded to Piemur to work his way from the squares attentive audience toward the smaller groups of men, drinking tubes in hand, conversing in quiet tones.
The subdued level, Piemur decided, was out of courtesy to the singers and their audience, but it made it hard for him. He was about to give up when the word Oldtimers caught his ear. He sidled closer to the group and, in the light of the glow baskets, recognized two as seaholders, a miner, a smith and an Igen holder.
I dont say it was them, but since theyve gone south, weve had no more unexpected demands, said the smith. Gnarish may also be an Oldtimer, but he follows Bendens ways. So it had to have been Oldtimers.
Young Toric often sends his two-master north for trade, said one of the seaholders, in a voice so confidential that Piemur had to strain to catch the words. He always has, and my Holder sees no harm in it. Torics no dragonman, and those that stayed south with him dont fall under Bendens order. So we trade. He may bargain close, but he pays well.
In marks? asked the Igen holder, surprised.
No. Barter! Gemstones, hides, fruit, such like. And once here Piemur held his breath for fear of missing the confidential whisper nine fire lizard eggs!
No? Envy as well as surprised interest were expressed in that startled reply. The seaholder quickly gestured the man to keep his tone down. Of course, and there was no disguising the bitter jealousy, theyve all the sand beaches in the world to search in the south! Any chance
The fascinating conversation broke off as another seaholder joined them, an older man, and possibly superior to the gossiping seaman, for talk turned to other things, and Piemur moved on.
Then Menolly began to sing alone, the other harpers accompanying her. All conversations died as she sang, with what appeared to Piemur to be incredible aptness, the Fire Lizard Song.
Her voice was richer now, Piemur noticed with a critical ear, the tone better sustained. He couldnt fault her musical phrasing. Nor should he be able to after three Turns of severe instruction by Master Shonagar. Her voice was so admirably suited to the songs she sang, he thought, and more expressive than many singers who had even better natural voices. As often as Piemur had heard the Fire Lizard Song, he found himself listening as intently as ever. When the song ended, he applauded as vigorously as everyone else, only then aware that he had been equally captivated. Putting words to music was not Menollys only talent; she put her music in the hearts and minds of her listeners, too.
While her enrapt audience started shouting for their favorite tunes, she beckoned Sebell to the platform, and they sang a duet of an eastern sea hold song, their voices so well blended that Piemurs respect and admiration for his fellow harpers reached unprecedented heights. Now, if only his voice turned tenor, he might have the chance to sing with
He played three more dance turns, but Sebell had been correct: the Igen gatherers wanted Menolly whenever she would favor them with song. Piemur also noticed that for every solo she sang, there was at least one group song and a duet including the Igen harpers. Clever of her to forestall ill-feeling. Too bad such discretion did not translate into his particular problem with the drum apprentices!
Whether it was because hed had a sleep in the afternoon or because the desert air was particularly bracing, Piemur was never sure, but it was only when he noticed the thinning of the crowd around the dance area, and the increased number of people rolled up in their blankets in the Gather tents, that he began to feel fatigue. He looked around then for Sebell and Menolly. When he saw nothing of them, he finally sought a weary, yawning Strud, who advised him, with a grin, to find a corner and get some sleep, if he could.
It had been easy enough to sleep that afternoon, but now, with no heat to lull him, the things he had heardmusic as well as malicedanced about in his mind. One positive fact emerged: the Oldtimers descent on the miner in Fort Hold was not an isolated incident. He also knew that while Gnarish, Igens Oldtime Weyrleader, was respected, Igen Holders would have given much to be beholden to Benden instead.
A sharp peck on his ear woke him, and he had a momentary fright before he focused his eyes on Rockys cocked head and heard the reassuring soft chirrup. Someone was snoring lustily beside him, and Piemurs back was warm. He cautiously eased away from this unknown sleeper.
Rocky chirped again and, hopping off his shoulder, walked a few paces away with exaggerated steps before looking back at Piemur. He wanted Piemur to come with him, and while his eyes were not red with hunger, they were whirling fast enough to indicate some urgency.
I dont need a drum to get your message, Piemur said under his breath as he moved further away from his snoring bed companion. He really must have been tired to sleep through that sort of racket.
Rocky landed on his right shoulder, poking at his cheek to force his head left. Piemur obediently ducked under the tent flap and, in the glows that were shedding a subdued waning light on the sands before Igen Hold, he saw the dark bulk of a dragon and several figures.
Rocky called in a sweet light voice and then took off toward the group. Piemur followed, yawning and shivering in the chill predawn breeze, wishing he had some klah. Especially if the presence of a dragon meant he had to go between; he was cold enough already.
The dragon was not Lioth, as hed half expected, but a brown nearly as big as the Fort Weyr dragon. It had to be Canth. And it was, for as he neared the group, he saw the scars on Fnors face from the dreadful, near-fatal scoring hed taken on his famous jump to the Red Star.
Cmon, Piemur, called Sebell. Fnors here to take us to Benden Weyr. Ramoths latest clutch is Hatching.
Piemur started to whoop with joy, then bit his tongue, choking off his jubilation. Bad enough hed been to a Gather, but when Clell and that lot heard hed been to a Benden Hatching, his life wouldnt be worth a wax mark! He saw in the same instant that the others were expecting him to react with appropriate anticipation and, loudly damning his changing voice, he affected as genuine a smile as he could manage. The groan that escaped him as he climbed to Canths back was for the inexorable forces he couldnt resist rather than the physical effort. He endured in silence Sebells teasing about the miseries of an apprentices life, and then Menollys for his silence, which she attributed to either hunger or sleepiness.
Never mind, Piemur, she said with an encouraging smile, theres bound to be some klah left in the pot for you at Benden Weyr. She peered down at his face. You are awake, arent you?
Sort of, he said, yawning again, then added for her benefit, I just cant take it in that me, Piemur, gets to go to a Benden Weyr Hatching!
Should he ask Menolly not to tell the Drum Master and Dirzan? Could he ask her to say hed been left at Igen Hold until they could collect him? No, he couldnt, because shed want to know why. And he couldnt tell her because that would mark him a blubber-baby, bleater, babblemouth. There had to be some way he could settle Clell and Dirzan by himself!
Despite his misgivings, Piemur succumbed to the fear-charged thrill of Canths initial vault into the air, the sensation of being pressed down, the breathlessness as the huge wings beat powerfully, and he felt the effort of Canths neck muscles under his buttocks. It wasnt quite as scary flying in this predawn darkness because he didnt know how far he was above the ground, particularly since his face was turned away from Igen Holds fading lights; but he caught his breath in a spurt of pure terror as Fnor gave Canth the audible request to take them between to Benden Weyr. He was again alone in the intense, sense-deprived, utter cold, and then, before the cold could sink to his bones, they had emerged into the brightening day, momentarily suspended above the massive Bowl of Benden Weyr.
Hed been to Fort Weyr once, by cart, with a group of harpers, when Ludeth, the Weyrqueen, had her first queen egg hatching. Hed thought that Fort was huge, but Benden seemed much bigger. Perhaps because he was seeing it from dragonback, perhaps because of the light, touching the far edges of the Bowl, gilding the lake. Perhaps it was because this was Benden, and Benden figured so hugely and importantly in his eyes, and the eyes of everyone else on Pern.
Without Benden and her courageous leaders, Pern might have been half-destroyed by Thread.
Another dragon appeared in the air just above them, and instinctively Piemur ducked, hearing Menolly laugh at his reflex. A third and then a fourth dragon arrived even as Canth began to glide down to the bowl floor. By the time Piemur could slide from brown Canths shoulder to the ground, he marveled that the dragons hadnt collided midair, appearing as they had with such startling frequency.
Beauty, Kimi, Rocky and Diver popped in above Menollys head, caroling with excitement, and suddenly they were joined by five other fire lizards Piemur had never seen before. When Menolly muttered worriedly about feeding fire lizards before they disrupted the Weyr, Fnor laughingly told them to find Mirrim. She was likely to be supervising breakfast in the kitchen caverns. Sebells nudge in his ribs reminded Piemur to thank the brown rider and his dragon. Then the three harpers made their way across the Bowl to the brightly lit cavern.
The enticing aromas of fresh klah and toasted cereals quickened their steps, Menolly leading the way toward the smallest hearth, away from the bustle and hurry of weyrfolk at the larger fires.
Mirrim? she called, and the girl at the hearth turned, her face lighting as she recognized the new arrivals. Menolly! You came! Sebell! How are you? What have you been up to recently to get so tanned? Whos this? Her smile disappeared as she noticed Piemur bringing up the rear, as if such a scruffy apprentice shouldnt be in such good company.
Mirrim, this is Piemur. Youve heard me speak of him often enough, said Menolly, putting her hand on Piemur to draw him forward and closer to her, the intimacy a guarantee of him to Mirrim. He was my first friend at the Harper Hall, as you were mine here. Weve all been at the Igen Gather. Baked yesterday, frozen this morning, and very hungry! Menolly let her tone drift upward plaintively.
Well, of course, youre hungry, said Mirrim, breaking off her stern appraisal of Piemur to turn to the hearth. She filled cups and bowls and set them out on one of the small tables with such alacrity that Piemur changed his first, unflattering impression of her. I cant stop long with you. You know how things are at the Weyr when theres a Hatching; so much to do. The important details you really have to see to yourself to be sure theyre done right. She flopped gracelessly into a chair with an exaggerated sigh of relief to underscore the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. Then she ran both hands through the fringe of brown hair on her forehead, ending the gesture with pats at the near plaits that hung down her back.
Piemur eyed her with a certain skeptical cynicism but, when he realized that Menolly and Sebell took no notice of her mannerisms and had sought out her company from everyone in the busy cavern, he came to the reluctant conclusion that there must be more to her than was obvious.
Beauty landed on Menollys shoulder just then, chirruping with some petulance, her eyes whirling reddishly. Diver swooped to Menollys other shoulder just as Kimi landed on Sebells. Rocky, to Piemurs intense delight, came to roost on his.
I thought that was Rocky, Mirrim said, pointing accusingly at Piemur as if he oughtnt to have a fire lizard anyhow.
It is, said Menolly with a laugh, but Piemur helps me feed him every day so Rockys just reminding us hes hungry, too.
Why didnt you say they hadnt been fed? Mirrim bounced to her feet, scowling with disapproval. Really, Menolly, Idve thought youd take care of your friends first
Sebell and Menolly exchanged guilty smiles as Mirrim stalked off to a table where women were cutting up wherries for the Hatching Feast. She returned with a generous bowlful of scraps, three fire lizards hovering anxiously above her. She shooed them away, reminding them with gruff affection that theyd already been fed. To Piemurs relief, because he was developing an antipathy to her manner, Mirrim was called away to one of the main hearths. Rocky poked his cheek imperiously, and Piemur concentrated on feeding him.
Is she a good friend of yours? Piemur asked when the first edge of fire lizard hunger had been eased.
Sebell laughed, and Menolly made a rueful grimace.
Shes very good-hearted. Dont let her ways put you off.
Piemur grunted. They have.
Sebell laughed again, offering Kimi a large chunk of meat so he could get a swallow of his klah while she struggled to chew. Mirrim does take a bit of getting used to but, as Menolly says, shell give you the shirt from her back
Complaining all the time, Ill wager, Piemur said.
Menollys expression was solemn. She was fosterling to Brekke, and Manoras always said that it was Mirrims devoted nursing that helped Brekke live after her queen was killed.
Really? That did impress Piemur, and he looked for Mirrim among the knot of women by the hearth as if this disclosure had caused her to change visibly.
Dont, please dont judge her too quickly, Piemur, said Menolly, touching his arm to emphasize her request.
Well, of course, if you say so
Sebell winked at Piemur. She says so, Piemur, and we must obey!
Oh, you, and Menolly dismissed Sebells teasing with a scowl of irritation. I just dont want Piemur jumping to the wrong conclusion on the basis of a few moments meeting When everyone knows, and Sebell rolled his eyes ceilingward, that it takes time, endurance, tolerance and luck to appreciate Mirrim! Sebell ducked as Menolly threatened him with her spoon.
They had finished feeding the fire lizards and sent them out to sun themselves when Mirrim popped up before them again, exhaling a mighty sigh.
I dont know how were going to get everything finished in time. Why those eggs have to be so awkward in their timing. Half the western guests will be dead of sleep and need breakfast See? She waved toward the entrance where dragons were depositing more passengers. Theres so much to be done. And I want to get to this Hatching. Felessans a candidate today, you know.
So Fnor told us. I could manage the breakfast hearth, Mirrim, said Menolly.
Just set us a task, said Sebell, throwing his arm across Piemurs shoulders, and well do our best to assist.
Oh, would you? Suddenly the affected manners dropped, and Mirrims scowl gave way to an incredulous smile of relief, illuminating her face and making her a very pretty girl. If you would just set up those tables, and she pointed to stacks of trestles and tops, thatd be the greatest help!
She was again summoned across the cavern and dashed off with a smile of such unaffected gratitude that Piemur stared after her in astonishment. Why did the girl act oddly? She was much nicer when she was just herself!
So, Felessan stands on the Hatching Ground, said Sebell. I missed that this morning.
Sorry, thought Id told you, said Menolly, rising to clear the table of their dishes. I wonder if hell Impress.
Why shouldnt he? asked Piemur, startled by her doubt.
He may be the son of the Weyrleaders, but that doesnt necessarily mean hell Impress. Dragon choice cant be forced.
Oh, Felessanll Impress, said a dragonrider, approaching the small hearth, two others just behind him. Are you tending the pot, Menolly?
And a good day to you, Tgellan, Menolly said with a pert smile for the bronze rider as she poured klah for him.
Hows yourself, Sebell? Tgellan went on, seating himself on the bench and gesturing to the other riders to join him.
Hard put upon, said Sebell in a long-suffering tone that sounded suspiciously like an imitation of Mirrim. We just got organized to set up the tables. Cmon, Piemur, before Mirrim lays about us with her ladle.
Because Menolly had so stoutly championed Mirrim, Piemur kept an eye out for the girl as he and Sebell arranged the additional tables. He spotted Mirrim dashing from one hearth to another, called to assist in trussing wherries for roasting, herdbeasts for the spit. He watched her organize one group of youngsters to peel roots and tubers and another to laying the tables with utensils and platters. He decided that Mirrim had not been puffing up her responsibilities.
Menolly, too, was kept busy, feeding dragonriders and their sleepy-eyed passengers, dragged from their beds for the imminent Hatching.
Sebell and Piemur had just set up the last table when a faint hum reached their ears. Fire lizards reappeared in the cavern, the high notes of their chirruping a counter-cadence to the low bass throb of the humming dragons.
Mirrim, divested of her apron and brushing water stains from her skirt, came dashing toward them. Cmon, Oharan promised to save us all seats by him, she cried and led the way across the Bowl at a run.
The Weyr Harper had kept them places in the tiers above the Hatching Ground, though, he informed them, his life had been threatened by Holders and Craftmasters. Piemur could see why as he settled down, for this was a splendid position, in the second tier, close to the entrance so that the view of the entire Ground was clear. There was no queen egg for Ramoth to guard, so the Benden queen dragon was standing to one side of the ground, Lessa and Flar on the ledge above her. Occasionally the enormous golden dragon looked up at her weyrmate, as if seeking assurance or, Piemur thought, consolation, since the eggs she had clutched were shortly to be taken from her care. The notion amused Piemur, for hed never have ascribed maternal emotions to Bendens preeminent queen dragon. Certainly Ramoth with her yellow flashing eyes and restless foot-shifting, wing-rustling, was a far picture from the gentle concern female herdbeast or runners showed their off spring.
A blur of white, seen from the corner of his eye, drew Piemurs attention to the Hatching Ground entrance. The candidates were approaching the eggs, their white tunics fluttering in the light morning breeze. Piemur suppressed his amusements as the boys, stepping further on the hot sands, began to pick up their feet smartly. When they had reached the clutch, they ranged themselves in a loose semicircle about the gently rocking eggs. Ramoth made a noise like a disapproving growl, which the boys all ignored, but Piemur noticed that the ones nearest her edged surreptitiously away.
A startled murmur ran through the audience as one of the eggs rocked more violently. The sudden snapping of the shell seemed to resound through the high-ceilinged cavern, and the dragons on the upper ledges hummed more loudly than ever with encouragement. The actual Hatching had begun. Piemur didnt know where to look because the audience was as fascinating as the Hatching: dragonriders faces with soft glows as they relived the magic moment when they had Impressed the hatchling dragon who became their lifes companion, minds indissolubly linked. On other faces was hope, breathless and incredulous, as guests and parents of the candidates waited for the moment when their lads would be chosen, or rejected, by the hatchlings. Fire lizards, respectfully quiet, perched on many shoulders in the Ground. And Piemur, who could never aspire to Impress a dragon, was reminded of that unfilled promise, that he would have a fire lizard one day. He wondered if Menolly remembered her promise to him. Or if hed ever have the opportunity to remind her of it.
Theres Felessan, said Menolly, nudging him sharply with her elbow. She pointed to a leggy figure with such a luxuriant growth of dark curling hair that his head seemed oversized.
He doesnt even look nervous, said Piemur, as he noted the signs of apprehension in other candidates who shifted uneasily or twitched unnecessarily at their tunics.
A concerted gasp directed their attention from Felessan, and they saw that several more eggs were rocking violently as the hatchlings struggled to be free. Abruptly an egg split open, and a moist little brown dragon was spilled to his feet on the hot sands. Dragging his fragile-looking damp wings on the ground, he began to lunge this way and that, calling piteously, while the adult dragons crooned encouragement, reinforced by Ramoths half-hum, half-howl.
The boys nearest the dragonet tried to anticipate his direction, hoping to Impress him, but he lurched out of their immediate circle, staggering across the sands, his call plaintive, desperate until the next group of boys turned. One, prompted by some instinct, took a step forward. The little browns cries turned joyous, he tried to extend his wet wings to bridge the distance between them, but the boy rushed to the dragons side, caressing head and shoulders, patting the damp wings while the little hatchling crooned with triumph, his jeweled eyes glowing the blue and purple of love and devotion. The days first Impression had been made!
Piemur heard Menollys deep and satisfied sigh and knew that she was reliving the moment she had Impressed her fire lizards in the Dragon Stones cave three Turns ago. He was again assailed by a deep stab of envy. When would he rate a fire lizard?
Excited cries brought his attention back to the Hatching Ground as more eggs cracked, exposing their occupants. Watch Felessan, Piemur! Theres a bronze near him cried Mirrim, gabbing Piemurs arm in her excitement.
And two browns and a blue, added Menolly, scarcely less excited as she canted her body in a mental effort to direct the little bronze toward Felessan. He deserves a bronze! He deserves one!
Only if the dragon wants him, said Mirrim sententiously. Just because hes the Weyrleaders son
Shut up, Mirrim, said Piemur, exasperated, clenching his fists, urging the Impression to occur.
Felessan was aware of the bronzes proximity, but so were a handful of other candidates. The little creature, rocking unstably on his wobbly legs, seemed not to see any of them for a moment. Then the wedge-shaped head fell forward and got buried in the sand as his hind legs overbalanced him. It was too much. Felessan gently righted the little beast and then stood transfixed, the expression on his exultant face plainly visible to his friends as Impression was made.
Ramoths bugle astonished everyone into a long moment of silence; but it was no wonder, Piemur thought, that Flar and Lessa were embracing each other at the sight of their one child Impressing a bronze!
The excitement was over too soon, Piemur thought, just moments later. He wished that all the eggs hadnt hatched at once, so this dizzy happiness could be extended. Not that there wasnt some disappointment and sadness, too, because far more candidates were presented to the eggs than could Impress. Only one little green had not Impressed, and she was mewling unhappily, butting one boy out of her way, lurching to another and peering up into his face, obviously searching for just the right lad. She had worked her way toward the tiers, despite the efforts of the remaining candidates to attract her attention and keep her well out into the Ground.
Whatever is the matter with those boys? demanded Mirrim, frowning with anxiety over the little greens pathetic wandering. She stood up, gesturing peremptorily to the candidates to close around the little green.
Just then the creature began to croon urgently and made directly for the steps that led up to the tiers.
What is possessing her? Mirrim asked no one in particular. She looked behind her accusingly, as if somehow a candidate might be hiding among the guests.
She wants someone not on the Ground, rang a voice from the crowd.
Shes going to hurt herself, said Mirrim in an agitated mutter and pushed past the three people seated between her and the stairs. Shell bruise her wings on the walls.
The little green did hurt herself, slipping off the first step and banging her muzzle so sharply on the stone that she let out a cry of pain, echoed by a fierce bugle from Ramoth who began to move across the sands.
Now, listen here, you silly thing, the boys you want are out there on the Ground. Turn yourself around and go back to them, Mirrim was saying as she made her way down the steps to the little green. Her fire lizards, calling out in wildly ecstatic buglings, halted her. She stared for a long moment at the antics of her friends, and then, her expression incredulous, she looked down at the green hatchling determinedly attacking the obstacle of steps. I cant! Mirrim cried, so panic-stricken that she slipped on the steps herself and slid down three before her flailing hands found support. I cant! Mirrim glanced about her for confirmation. Im not supposed to Impress. Im not a candidate. She cant want me! Awe washed over the consternation on her face and in her voice.
If its you she wants, Mirrim, get down there before she hurts herself! said Flar, who had by now reached the scene, Lessa beside him.
But Im not
It would seem that you are, Mirrim, said Lessa, her face reflecting amusement and resignation. The dragons never wrong! Come! Be quick about it, girl. Shes scraping her chin raw to get to you!
With one final startled look at her Weyrleaders, Mirrim half-slid the remaining steps, cushioning the little greens chin from yet another harsh contact with the stone of the step.
Oh, you silly darling! Whatever made you choose me? Mirrim said in a loving voice as she gathered the green into her arms and began to soothe the hatchlings distressed cries. She says her name is Path! The glory on Mirrims face caused Piemur to look away in embarrassment and envy.
For one brief moment, Piemur had entertained the bizarre notion that maybe the little green dragon had been looking for him. A deep sigh fluttered through his lips, and a hand was laid gently on his shoulder. Schooling his expression, he turned to see Menolly watching him, a deep pity and understanding in her eyes.
I promised you Turns ago that youd have a fire lizard, Piemur. I havent forgotten. I will keep that promise!
As one they turned their heads back to watch Mirrim fussing over her Path, her fire lizards hopping on the sands, chattering away as if welcoming the little green in their own fashion.
Come on, you two, said Sebell, as Mirrim began to encourage Path to walk out of the Hatching Ground. Wed better see Master Robinton. This is going to cause problems. The last he said in a low voice.