Piemur wanted to say yes, but instead took a good hold on the leathers that encircled Lioths neck. He replied that since this was only a short trip, he wouldnt need them. Then clutched convulsively as Lioth sprang upward. They were above the rim of Fort Holds fireheights before Piemur caught his breath. Nton gave the bronze dragon the audible command to Nabol, and Piemur knew he screamed into the nothingness of between. He choked off the noise as he felt the change from intense cold and blackness to frosty chill and the faint lightening in what must be the eastern sky.
Two whirling points of light danced above Ntons left shoulder, and a fire lizards complacent chirp informed Piemur that Ntons bronze, Tris, had turned to look at him. Then Lioth swerved and Piemurs fingers became numb as he increased the pressure on the straps, unconsciously leaning backward against the angle of descent into darkness. Tris chirruped encouragingly, as if he were completely aware of Piemurs internal confusion. Piemur prayed fervently that Tris wouldnt inform Nton of how scared he was. Abruptly the bronze dragon backwinged and settled with the lightest of bumps in black shadow.
Lioth says there are people not far down the road, Piemur, said Nton in a low voice. Give me your flying gear.
Isnt it Sebell? asked Piemur, shedding helmet and jacket and thrusting them blindly toward Nton. Lioth says no, but Sebell is not far behind. He hears Kimi.
Kimi? Piemurs surprise made him speak louder than he intended, and he winced at Ntons warning.
You forget, whispered Nton, Sebell can bring Kimi because fire lizards are so common here in Nabol. Or so were led to understand. Displeasure colored the Fort Weyrleaders amendment. Then Piemur felt the strong gloved hand curl about his wrist, and he obediently threw his right leg back over Lioths neckridge, sliding down the massive shoulder, aware as he slipped beyond Ntons guiding hand, that the dragon had cocked his leg to allow an easier slope of descent. He let his knees take the shock of his landing and patted Lioths shoulder, wondering as he did so if that were bold of him.
Good luck, Piemur! Ntons muted voice just reached his ears.
He stepped back, turning his head against the shower of dust and sand as the huge bronze launched himself skyward.
Once his eyes were accustomed to the variations of black and dark gray, Piemur located the winding road and whistled softly as he realized how accurately the dragon had landed in the one flat area big enough to accommodate him. Piemurs respect for draconic abilities rose to new heights.
He heard now the occasional sound of voices and saw the erratic wavering of light from the glowbaskets of the leading file. A creaking of wheeled carts and the familiar sluff-sluff of plate-footed burden beasts reached his ears. He looked about him for a place to hide. He had a choice of boulders and ledges, and found a shielded spot that faced the track but gave him a clear view of the dimly seen exit. He curled up small, hugging knees to chest, secure in the belief that he couldnt be seen.
A chirrup disabused him of that notion and, startled, he glanced up and saw three pairs of fire lizard eyes gleaming at him.
Go away, you silly creatures. Im not even here! To prove this, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the awful nothingness of between.
The fire lizards responded with an agitated chorus.
Whats the matter with them? a gruff male voice called over the creaking of cartwheels and the shuffling sound of the burden beasts.
Who knows? Who cares? Wem most to Nabol now! Piemur redoubled his efforts to think of nothing, and heard the faint flutter of fire lizards taking flight. To think of nothing took more effort than to concentrate on something. A great many carts, too, Piemur thought, for a Nabol Gather when there was another, better one at Fort Hold. He opened his eyes now and saw the flicker of winging fire lizards in the gathering daylight, and the point-lights of their eyes in gloom. And these were carters? Small holders? The anger that injustice roused warmed Piemur long after the caravan and the comfort of their glowbaskets passed from his angle of vision.
The cold dawn wind rose, and Piemur wished that Sebell would put in his promised appearance. He ought to have asked Nton if Lioth had seen Sebell as he glided to his landing. Then Piemur chided himself that this was scarcely the first time hed waited on his lonesome in the dark of dawn. Hed done his watches with his fathers herds. Of course, thered usually been someone sleeping in the cot within voice range during those long, slow hours. What if something had happened to Sebell? Or he was delayed? Should Piemur go on to Nabol by himself? And how was he to return to the Harper Hall? Hed forgotten to ask Nton that, presuming it was the Fort Weyrleader whod collect him. Or was he to be collected? Did Sebell plan to sell those suitable beasts of his during the Gather? Or would they have to herd them back whence theyd come? There was a great deal that Sebell hadnt told him in spite of the journeymans candid explanation about their surreptitious appearance at Nabol Hold.
Piemur relieved his anxieties by remembering that he wasnt going to have to attend the Fort Hold festivities, or listen to Tilgin sing music that Domick had written for him. He sighed, depressed that he wasnt going to be singing the role of Lessa, that he wasnt still comfortably in his bed in the senior apprentices dormitory, waking to anticipate the applause of Lord Groghes guests, the accolades of his friends and Domick. And quite likely Lessas approval, since the Weyrwoman was Lord Groghes special guest today.
Here he was, cold, miserable, and uncomfortably aware that he hadnt had so much as a cold cup of klah before he was bundled onto a dragons back and dumped here to await a man who might not arrive for hours if he was walking a herd of beasts in from Ruatha Hold all by himself!
And when they found out what theyd come to discover and returned to the Harper Hall, what would Piemur do tomorrow?
He grinned, hugging his knees in smug satisfaction, remembering Rokayas surprise the day before when he had perfectly dead-sticked the complicated message Rokayas had thought up to test his knowledge of the drum language. Piemur was almost sorry he wouldnt be
He groped on the ground beside him and found a rock, gave it an experimental whack against the boulder that sheltered him. The resultant sound echoed about the small valley. Piemur found another rock and, rising, went to the now visible track. He beat the rocks together in the monotone code for harper, adding the beat for where, grinning as the sharp staccato sounds reverberated. He repeated the two measures, then waited. He beat his measures again to give Sebell time to find his own rocks. Then in the pause he heard distantly a muffled reply: journeyman comes.
Immeasurably relieved, Piemur was wondering whether to proceed down the track and intercept Sebell when he heard a stay as the message was repeated. He was a bit daunted by the stay and restlessly scuffed at the loose gravel on the track. Surely Sebell wasnt far away. what did it matter if Piemur did go to meet him? But the message had been clearstaysand Piemur decided that Sebell must have a reason, other than obedience to Master Oldives instruction about Piemurs dented head.
Sullenly, Piemur resumed his position behind the boulder. And none too soon. He heard then the sharp clatter of hooves against stone, the jangle of metal against metal, and a rumble of encouraging shouts. A fair of fire lizards arrowed out of the graying southern skies, heading straight up the track. Piemur thought of cold betweens nothingness, as the fire lizards, intent on keeping ahead of the swiftly pacing riders, swept on. The ground beneath Piemurs rump trembled with the runners passage.
There was so much dust raised that Piemur couldnt be sure how many rode by, but he estimated a dozen or more. A dozen riders with a full fair of fire lizards escorting them?
Again anger consumed Piemur. He knew that he wouldnt have resented this latest concentration of fire lizards, obviously companioning holders prosperous enough to own fast pacers, if the earlier caravan hadnt been just as well favored with the creatures. It wasnt fair. He agreed wholeheartedly with Lord Oterel! There were many, too many fire lizards abroad in Nabol.
He was so incensed over such inequity, since the caravaners obviously hadnt appreciated the capabilities of the little creatures, that at first he didnt hear the shluff-shluff of the approaching herd.
Kimis quizzical cheep nearly frightened him out of his wits. She cheeped again, apologetically, and her eyes whirled a little faster as she peered at him from the top of the boulder.
Well? asked Sebell, appearing around one side. You took me too literally.
They all have fire lizards, cried Piemur, too indignant to make polite greeting.
Yes, I had noticed.
I dont mean that lot, and Piemur jerked his thumb in the direction of the riders. There was a caravan that had two or three full fairs
Did they see you? asked Sebell, suddenly wary.
The fire lizards did, but no human paid any attention to their alert! Then Piemur caught sight of the beasts that Sebell had herded and whistled.
So? They meet with your approval?
The leader had ambled past, eyes half-closed against the dust, and the rest, nose to the tail in front, with eyes fully closed, followed. Piemur counted five: all were well-fleshed, with good, thick, furry hides, moving steadily without a stumble, which meant their feet were sound.
Youll sell them all right, said Piemur.
Happen Ah will! said Sebell in proper accent and, passing his arm about Piemurs shoulders, urged him ahead of the herd. Here, and Sebell passed Piemur a padded flask. It should still be hot. I only broke camp when Kimi told me Lioth had flashed by.
Piemur mumbled his gratitude for the klah, which was hot enough to warm his belly. Then Sebell handed Piemur a dried meat roll of the sort that was standard journey rations, and Piemur began to view the imminent day in a much improved frame of mind.
As soon as hed finished eating, he voluntarily dropped back to the apprentices uncomfortable position at the end of the single file. Hed be properly coated with dust by the time they arrived at Nabol Hold.
The first thing Piemur did when they got to the Gather meadow was head toward the nearest watering trough, fighting against his thirsty charges for a space at the edge. He also remembered exactly where to pinch their noses to make them turn from him.
Ar, lad, let thbeasts drink deep farst! Sebell unceremoniously hauled him away, his voice angry, though his eyes twinkled as he warned Piemur to play the proper part.
Ar, sor, tongue that dry cant move.
Two young boys were approaching the trough with pails, but they waited, as custom dictated, until the beasts had drunk their fill and the cold mountain water flowed clear again. Piemur and Sebell then herded their charges toward the area of the meadow set aside for animal sales. The Hold Steward, a pinch-faced man with a runny nose, all but pounced on them, demanding the Gather fee. Sebell immediately protested the amount, and the two set to haggling. Sebell brought the fee down a full mark before he surrendered his token, but he didnt protest when the Steward waved them contemptuously toward the smallest enclosure at the end of the rank. Piemur was about to object when Sebells hand closed warningly on his shoulder. Looking at the journeyman in surprise, Piemur saw the imperceptible jerk of his head over his shoulder. Piemur waited a few discreet seconds and then casually glanced about him. Three men had started to follow them toward their allotted space. A thrill of fear made Piemur catch his breath until he recognized the unmistakable herder gait and knew these were prospective buyers.
Tolya Ahd suitable beasts, di Ah no? drawled Sebell under his breath.
Ar, an yull drink th profit again, like as not, replied Piemur in a sullen tone, but his shoulders shook with the effort to control his amusement. He hadnt a single doubt in his mind that Sebell would also play the happy drunken herdsman to perfection. And manage to say without offense what would be impossible for a sober man anyplace.
They got the beasts enclosed, and Piemur was sent with a worn mark of the Herdsmans Crafthall to haggle for fodder. He managed to save an eighth on the dealing, which he pocketed as any apprentice would. Sebell was already deep in bargain with one of the men while the others were examining the beasts with pinch and prod. Piemur wondered where under the sun Sebell had managed to acquire such proper mountain-bred creatures, with rock-worn hooves and shaggy coats. He could no more account for the good flesh on them after this long winter than the prospective buyers, so he hunkered down and listened to Sebells explanation.
Trust a harper to weave words well, and Piemurs respect for the journeyman increased proportionately to the elaborations of the tale he told. Sebell would have his audience believe that he merely used an old trick handed down from grandsire to grandson: a combination of herbs and grasses sweetened with just the right amount of berries and well-moistened dried fruits. He also said that he and his did without sometimes to improve their beasts, and Piemur promptly sucked in his cheeks to look suitably haggard. He saw the eyes of the men linger on his bruises, showing yellow on his chin and cheek, while Sebell rambled on about his holders scrambling up and down the southern face of his hold hill to find the sweet new grasses that produced such spectacular results.
The earnest knot of listeners attracted more who stood respectfully back but close enough to hear. What Piemur couldnt figure out was that, while the beasts had very old marks of Ruathan breeding, the secondary marks were also well-worn. Then he was annoyed with himself: Sebell must have pulled this sort of stunt before. Undoubtedly somewhere in Ruatha was a cotholder who kept a few special beasts for the Harper Halls convenience. He began to relax and enjoy Sebells tale-spinning thoroughly.
The sun was well over the mountains by the time Sebell had struck hands on the bargainsfor there were three. One man bought three of the beasts, and the others one apiece, at what Piemur knew was a bloody good price. He wondered if that had covered their original purchases and their keep. Appropriately sober-faced during the bargaining, Sebell permitted pleasure to glow on his dirt-smeared face as he carefully stowed the mark pieces in his belt pouch while the beasts were prodded away by their new owners.
Didnt think Id make that much, but the trick always works! said Sebell in a low mutter to Piemur.
Trick?
Sure, said Sebell softly as he patted dust from his clothing. Arrive dusty, early, with the well-fleshed beasts, and theyre on to you fast, hoping youre tired enough to be stupid.
Where did you get em?
Sebell flashed Piemur a grin. Craft secret. Get along with you now, and he gave Piemur a wink and a rough shove. See tGather! he added in a louder tone. Ah find thee when Ah wish to go.
This wasnt much of a Gather, Piemur decided when hed done one round of the small nestle of stalls. They didnt even have bubbly pies at the bakers, and the Craft-halls had obviously sent very junior men to represent them. Still, a Gather was a day to be enjoyed, and not many were held at Nabol even when restdays were Thread-clear, so the Nabolese were making as much of the occasion as they could.
The wineman was doing a brisk trade by the time Piemur returned that way. He squatted at the corner of the stand, munching slowly away at another meatroll, listening to comments and noticing with deep chagrin and a growing wrath how many fire lizards flitted about, resting for a moment on the stall tops, wheeling up in fairs to dance in the air a bit before settling on their friends shoulders or on a new position where they could overlook. At first Piemur tried to convince himself that he was only seeing the same group again and again. He did notice that most were greens with a sprinkling of brown and blues-the lesser fire lizards. When he saw bronzes, they were always on the shoulder or arm of the more prosperously dressed. Yet no matter how Piemur argued the matter in his mind, it was clear that Nabol Hold boasted more fire lizards than he had seen even at Benden Weyr during the Impression.
Suddenly a phrase stood out from the murmurous conversation about the winestand.
Therell be a few more happy holidays today, I hear!
Piemur turned to scratch his shoulder fiercely and located the man who had spoken from his knowing smirk, a smith from his clothing. His companion, a miner by his shoulder badge, was nodding in comprehension.
Nabol dont take proper care of em, he dont. Three never shelled. My master was fair upset about that. Means to have three more today or his names not Kaljan.
Is that so? The smith bobbed his head up and down to show regret. Wed one that didnt hatch, too, but no joy did we get above! Eggs we was promised and eggs we was given. Up to us to care for em proper enough to make em hatch. That one, and his head jerked toward the Hold cliff to indicate Lord Meron, enjoys putting a snake among the wherries! He snorted derisively. Happen its his only pleasure now.
Both men guffawed with malicious delight.
Happen well not need to worry about him much longer, I hear tell. The smith winked broadly at the miner.
Couldnt be soon enough for me. Well, see you at the dancing?
Going so soon?
Had my glass. Must get back.
The disappointment in the miners face made Piemur think that the smiths departure was precipitous. Going to tell his master about the eggs that were up at the Hold, was he? Piemur decided to tag along.
Eggs handed out in quantities, eggs that had been badly handled and wouldnt hatch. Unlessand Piemur reflected over something that Menolly had said about fire lizard eggs. Green fire lizards laid eggs as well, having been fertilized by a mating flight with a blue or brown, sometimes even a bronze. But green fire lizards were stupid: theyd lay a clutch, ten at the most, Menolly said, and leave them with such a shallow covering of beach sand that they were easy prey to wild wherries or sand snakes. Very few green-laid clutches survived to Hatch. Which, as Menolly had succinctly stated, was just as well or Pern would be up to the eyeballs in little green fire lizards.
Piemur wondered if anyone in Nabol realized that a deception was being practiced on them, and green fire lizard eggs were what were dispersed so lavishly. Then he realized that hed lost sight of the smith and, cursing his inattentiveness, began to retrace his steps, turning with assumed idleness to peer between the stalls. He spotted the smith, urgently speaking to a man with a smithmasters badge and, as the man reacted to his journeymans excited words, his masters chain sparkled. Piemur managed to duck away as both men suddenly turned toward him. When they had passed him on their way to the Hold, Piemur followed, restlessly scanning faces in the hopes that he might see Sebell and tell him what hed overheard. Sebell might wish to investigate.
As the two smiths turned from the Gather area toward the Hold, Piemur had to pause or be noticeable. The smiths strode purposefully up the ramp toward the main Hold gates. They were challenged by the guard and, after some moments of arguing, the guard summoned another from the gatehouse and sent him to the Hold with the smithmasters message.
While the messenger was gone, two men emerged from the Hold, well wrapped in their cloaks, though the air had lost its chill. Something about the way they walked, carefully; the way they carried their heads, proudly; the way they nodded and smiled at the guards, smugly; and most of all the way they pointedly avoided contact, struck Piemur as significant. He continued to watch them as they turned toward the Gather meadow. As they approached him he caught sight of their figures in profile and realized that each man carried something hidden in his cloak, held tight against his side. It couldnt have been a large object. But, thought Piemur, putting expression, manner and profile together, an egg pot wouldnt be large. He wanted to follow the men to see if his suspicion was correct, but he also didnt want to leave the Hold until the message from the smithmaster had been answered.
A new party, holders by the look of them, now made themselves known to the guards and were admitted, to the angry chagrin of the smithmaster. Then three carts, heavily laden to judge by the straining of the burden beasts struggling up the ramp, forced the smithmaster to one side. The guard waved the carts toward the kitchen courtyard. The last cart jammed a wheel against the ramp parapet, the driver thudding his stick against the burden beasts rump.
Wheel be jammed, yelled Piemur, not liking to see any animal beaten for what was not its fault.
He jumped forward to help guide the carter. The man now backed his stolid beast, swinging its head left. Piemur, setting his shoulder to the tailgate, gave a push in the proper direction. He also tried to peek under the covering to see what on earth was being delivered to the Hold on a Gather day when most business was done in the Gather meadow. Before he could get a good look, the cart had picked up speed as it reached more level ground.
He was past the guards, arguing with the smith and paying no more attention to the procession of carts. Ducking quickly to the side of the cart away from the carter, Piemur gained access to the Hold proper.
As the carts rumbled on into the kitchen court, Piemur rapidly wondered how he could turn this opportunity to advantage and remain in the Hold after the carters had unloaded and left. Certainly if he was actually in the Hold, he might find out more than he could possibly learn wandering about the Gather. If nothing else he could discover what the carter had delivered.
Then he spied a line of coveralls bleaching in the spring sun. He darted over and removed one, ignoring the slight dampness as he slipped it over his head. Kitchen drudges were never noted for cleanliness, and once the beast dirt and stains on his tunic were covered, the dust on his boots and trousers would be unremarkable.
Hey, you! Piemur tried to ignore the call, but it was repeated and could only be directed to him. He turned toward the speaker, affecting a stupid expression. I mean you, with the empty arms!
Obediently he trudged back to the carter, who slung a heavy sack across his back. At that point, the kitchen steward bustled out to supervise, and Piemur, bent double under the sack, passed him without a glance. The steward alternated between chivvying his drudges out to help unload, and the carter for his ill-timed arrival. The carter replied with equal heat that he had heavy carts and slow beasts and had had to give way and eat dust from those hurrying to this bloody Gather. Meron ought to be pleased hed got here within the day allotted, much less at an earlier hour.
The steward hushed him and began shouting orders, ordering Piemur on to the back storerooms. Piemur got inside the kitchen, not knowing where the stores rooms were, so, making a business of wiping his face and easing his shoulders, he waited until someone brushed past him and turned down the proper corridor.
Dont know where Ahm t put more as is plenty here aready, muttered the drudge as Piemur followed him.
A-top them others? suggested Piemur helpfully.
In the dim light of waning glows, the Nabolese peered at Piemur. Never saw you afore. Nor you havent, Piemur agreed amiably. Sent from tHold to help in kitchen for tGather.
Oh! And the sly gleam in the mans eyes suggested to Piemur that he had just let himself in for the worst and dirtiest of the chores about a Hold on a Gather day when the Lord was feasting guests.
Haste appeared the vital factor in unloading the carts, so Piemur didnt see many of the seals on the sacks, barrels and boxes he humped out of sight. But he saw enough to realize that the delivery came from a variety of sources: tanner, weaver, smithcraft for the heaviest boxes, wine from many of the yards, but none, he was pleased to note, from Benden. When the last bundle was stowed in the now-bulging stores rooms, Piemurs sigh of relief was echoed by Besel, the sly drudge, who had managed to stay close to him during the unloading. Piemur had no sooner lowered himself to a sack to rest than the man snatched him to his feet.
Cmon, weve no time to rest tday.
Nor did Piemur, who was set first to scrape out ashes from the secondary hearths and then to gutting beasts and wild fowl, thankful that hed watched Camo often enough at that task to know the tricks. He scoured extra plates, encrusted with the dirt and grime of Turns, until his fingers shriveled. When hed done that, and peeled a dragon-load of tubers, he was allowed a breather so long as he kept one of the five spits turning.
Chaos broke loose when the Hold Steward arrived to inform the kitchen that Lord Meron chose to eat in his own quarters and these were to be prepared while he walked the Gather.
The kitchen steward obsequiously took the change of order, having only that hour completed the feast arrangements in the Great Hall. The moment the heavy door had swung shut on the Hold Stewards back, however, he burst into obscenities that won him Piemurs astounded approval.
If Piemur had thought hed worked hard already, he was soon disabused of that notion by the rate at which he was sent flying about the kitchen to collect cleaning and polishing tools and preparations. Then he was sent on ahead with Besel and a woman to start cleaning the Lords rooms. Already weary from an early rising and more hard labor than hed known since hed left his native cothold, Piemur tried to cheer himself by imagining Master Oldives reaction to his quiet day at Nabol Gather.
Whod a thought hed walk tGather? the woman was saying as they trudged up the steep steps from the main hall to Merons apartment.
Had to. Didncha hear what they be saying at Gather? Meron dead aready and none know his heir. Some as want to turn Gather Day into Duel Day.
That remark set both Nabolese into cackles of laughter, and Piemur wondered if he could be ignorant enough of Hold problems to ask why they were so amused.
Ah saw em comin in, Ah did, said Besel, again with that sly, knowing expression on his face. Evry one of em was with im some time tday, they was. Outsides with him now, shouldnt wonder.
Hell have his lil game wiem, he will, each thinking hes been named, said the woman and dug her elbow into Besels ribs which sent them both off into malicious laughter again.
Hope its not just us as has to do all the cleaning here, Besel said, putting his hand on the door handle. Hasnt been done infaugh! He turned his head away, coughing against the stench that wafted out to them from the opened door.
As the smell reached Piemurs nostrils, sweet, cloying, sickening, he felt his stomach turn in protest and tried not to inhale. He hung back, hoping the fresher air of the corridor would cleanse the room of its stink.
Here, you get in and open shutters. Youre used to stinking messes, guttingman. Besel grabbed Piemur roughly by the arm and propelled him violently into the room.
How Piemur managed not to vomit from the odor of the room before he reached the shutters and flung them open, he didnt know. He half-threw his body up the deep sill, gasping in fresh, cool air.
Other windows, too, boy, ordered Besel from the doorway.
Piemur filled his lungs and opened the other windows, staying by the last until the chill air dissipated the odors of decay and illness. And Lord Merons heirs had had to attend him in this funking atmosphere? Piemur spared them a moment of sympathy.
Then Besel shouted for him to go into the other rooms and open them up to air properly. Else no oned eat his food, like as not, and wem to clean up their messes.
The foul odor hung heaviest in the last of the four large rooms that comprised the Lord Holders private apartments in Nabol. It was then that Piemur blessed the happenstance that had sent him in here ahead of the others. Reposing on the hearth were nine pots of exactly the size in which fire lizard eggs were placed to keep warm and harden. Mastering his urge to gag, Piemur ducked across the room to investigate. One pot was set slightly apart from the others and, lifting the lid, Piemur scraped enough sand away to see the mottled shell before he covered it carefully over. He took a quick look at the contents of the first pot in the other group. Yes, the egg was smaller and of a different hue. Hed wager every mark he owned that the separate pot contained a fire lizard queen egg.