Sebell had not really worried about Piemur throughout the Gather day as he wandered, or staggered about in his assumed role of wine-happy herdsman. And when word flashed through the crowds that Lord Meron was to walk the Gather, Sebell had no time to look for his apprentice. He had to concentrate on listening to the mutterings about Lord Meron and his curious generosity with fire lizard eggs that only hatched greens.
If Lord Meron's appearance gave the lie to rumours that the man was dead or dying, it was apparent to Sebell's sharp eyes that the Lord Holder needed the support of the two men who walked beside him, arms linked in his. Some of his heirs, Sebell heard whispered in glum and disgusted tones.
When the roasted beasts were being sliced for distribution to the Gather crowd, Sebell did begin to search for Piemur. Surely the boy wouldn't miss free meat at Lord Meron's expense. Not that the beasts were juicy, probably the oldest creatures in the Hold herds, Sebell thought, endlessly chewing on his portion. He had placed himself at an end table about the Gather square where Piemur ought to be able to see him.
By the time the dancing started, Sebell began to worry. N'ton would be returning for them at full dark, and he didn't want to impose on the bronze dragonrider by requiring him to wait about or return at a later time.
It was then that Sebell wondered if Piemur had somehow gotten into trouble and maybe left the Gather area. But, if Piemur had gotten into trouble, surely he would have set up a howl for Sebell to rescue him. Perhaps he had only crawled away for a nap. He'd had an early rising and he might not be completely recovered from his fall. Sebell sent Kimi about the Gather to see if she could locate the boy, but she returned, cheeping anxiously at her failure. He sent her then to the allotment, in case Piemur had gone there to wait. When that errand too was fruitless, Sebell appropriated a handy, fast-looking runner beast from the picket lines and made his way to their original meeting place, on the off-chance that Piemur had returned there, to wait for him and N'ton.
Though Sebell searched the valley carefully, he found no trace of his young friend. He was forced to admit that something had indeed happened to Piemur. He couldn't imagine what, nor why Piemur, or whoever the lad might have crossed, had not sent for him as Piemur's master.
He sped back to the Hold, retied his borrowed mount, and reached the Gather just as news of the theft of the queen egg rippled through the crowds. Feelings were mixed as that news spread; anger from those who had received lesser eggs, and amusement that someone had outsmarted Lord Meron. By the time Sebell got to the Hold gates, no one was being allowed in or out. Glowbaskets shone on empty courtyards, and every window of the Hold was brilliant with light. Sebell watched with the rest of the curious gatherers while even the ash and refuse pits were searched. Wagers were being laid that somehow Kaljan the Miner had managed to steal the egg.
Sebell was there when the minemaster was escorted by guard into the Hold after the man's baggage was thoroughly searched. An order was circulated, and additional guards posted, to prevent anyone's leaving the Gather. Sebell positioned himself along the ramp parapet leading to the Hold, where Piemur could easily spot him in the light from the Hold's glows. Surely if the boy had only fallen asleep, the noise would rouse him.
It was only when word filtered through the crowd that some unknown drudge had made off with the precious egg that Sebell came to the startling conclusion that that drudge could have been Piemur. How the boy had managed to enter the guarded Hold, Sebell couldn't figure out, but trust Piemur to find a way. Certainly it was like the boy to steal a fire lizard egg, given the opportunity. A queen egg at that! Piemur never did anything by halves. Sebell chuckled to himself and then sent Kimi flying with the other agitated fire lizards to see if she could discover where Piemur was hiding.
She returned and conveyed to Sebell that she couldn't get close to Piemur. It was too dark and too full. When Sebell questioned her for details, she grew distressed and repeated the image of darkness and her inability to reach the boy.
The frenzy of the search mounted. Guards were now dispatched on fast runners up every road leading from the Hold to find any travelers journeying from the Gather. Sebell sent Kimi to the valley to warn N'ton away in case the bronze rider was awaiting them. When Tris accompanied her back, Sebell knew that his warning had been timely. Tris chittered at him and then settled beside Kimi, giving Sebell the opportunity to send the fire lizard to bring N'ton should he be needed.
Both moons had risen by now, adding their soft light to the glows, but despite the fact that the guards endlessly searched and researched the Hold and yards, their efforts proved vain. Delighted with Piemur's elusiveness, Sebell settled himself to wait out the night in the shadowy corner of the first cot below the ramp. He had a good view of the guards and, by carefully looking over the ramp wall, could see most of the courtyard.
He was roused from a half-doze by the shouts and angry muttering as the guards prodded those who had lingered about the gates back down toward the Gather area.
“Go on now,” the guards kept saying. “Go to your cots or your allotments. You'll be allowed to leave in the morning. No need to linger here. Go on with you, now!”
The moons had set, and gone, too, were all the glowbaskets that had illuminated the courtyards. Even the Hold was in darkness, though some light seeped through the shutters of the Lord Holder's apartments on the first level. Curling himself into a tight ball in the shadows, Sebell hid his face and hands and ordered Kimi to tell Tris to be quiet and for both to keep their eyes closed.
When the guards disappeared, he wondered what was happening. The Hold was virtually unguarded as well as unlit. Was this some sort of trap to catch Piemur? Or should Sebell take advantage of this opportunity and sneak into the Hold? Kimi rattled her wings in alarm, and through narrow slits her eyes gleamed yellow with worry. Tris, too, stirred nervously.
Then Sebell picked up from Kirni's mind the image of dragons; furthermore, dragons that neither fire lizard knew. Just as that image faded in his mind, Sebell heard the sound of dragon wings. Gliding from the northern shadows of the Hold cliff, he saw the black bulks of four dragons, wing on wing. Two settled neatly into the kitchen courtyard while the other pair landed in the main yard. Sebell heard hushed commands and then an unusual, muted hubbub. Grunts and muffled oaths punctuated the activity. Sebell was considering moving out of his protective shadows for a better view when he heard a heavy groan, the unmistakable scrabble of talons on stone, and the equally identifiable swhoosh of mighty wings making a powerful downstroke.
In the one band of light in the kitchen courtyard he saw the belly of a heavily laden bronze dragon struggling to rise, his sides bulging. No sooner had the first one cleared, than the second dragon launched himself skyward. The two in the main courtyard moved to the kitchen yard. More activity ensued, conducted with hoarse whispers and low voiced commands.
All during this, Kimi and Tris shivered, clinging to Sebell in a fashion they had never exhibited in the vicinity of other dragons. It took no great effort for Sebell to conclude that he had witnessed Lord Meron delivering goods to the Oldtimers from the Southern Weyr. That queen fire lizard egg had probably been prepayment for whatever the dragons had lugged away.
Sebell heard the sound of low voices coming from the direction of the Gather, and he hastily nipped back to his dark comer, warning the two fire lizards to close their eyes as he hid his face and hands again.
After moments of boot scuffing and muttered phrases, there was silence. Cautiously raising his head, he saw that the guards were back in position and that the glowbaskets again glowed on ramp and Hold walls, illuminating the roads leading up to the Hold. He was trapped in his shadowy comer. Nor did he dare to send Kimi or Tris from him, for their flight would surely be noticed when there wasn't another fire lizard to be seen. With a sigh, he settled himself as comfortably as he could, Kimi draped warmingly about his shoulders, and Tris curled at his side.
He couldn't have slept very long before he was rudely awakened by the boom of the message drums. “Urgent to the Healer! Lord Meron very ill. Masterharper required. Urgent! Urgent! Urgent!”
Had they then caught Piemur and, recognizing him, summoned Master Robinton to account for the misbehavior of one of his apprentices? Lord Meron would like nothing better than to be able to humiliate Master Robinton, for any censure of the Masterharper would also touch the Benden Weyrleaders, whom Lord Meron hated. Oh, well, if that were the case, at least the boy had been found. Sebell felt certain that Master Robinton could handle Lord Meron's accusations. And yet, why was Master Oldive so urgently required? No Hold drummed that measure unless the emergency was critical.
The Hold's fire lizards had been awakened by the boom of the big message drums and now wheeled about in the glowlight. Sebell unwrapped Kinai's tail from his neck, and holding her slender body in his hands, compelled her to look at him while he gave her directions to Menolly. He thought hard about clean clothes and imaged himself dressed in harper blue. Kimi chirruped understandingly and, after stroking his chin with her head, launched herself up. Tris chirped questioningly, tugging at Sebell's sleeve. N'ton would be a good ally, but strictly speaking the Fort Weyrleader had no genuine business here since Nabol was beholden to T'bor of the High Reaches Weyr. So Sebell looked deeply into Tris's lightly whirling eyes, thought hard that N'ton need not come to the valley, and sent the little brown back to his friend at Fort Weyr.
The message drum boomed a repeat, emphasizing again the urgency. Sebell strained his ears for the relay drums at the next point, but a handful of guards quick-stepped down the road toward the Gather and their passing masked the distant sounds.
Dawn was just breaking when Sebell, scanning the lightening skies, saw a dragon emerge. As the creature circled gracefully down, Sebell was relieved to note the silhouettes of four riders. He was perplexed because the dragon's spiraling descent would not put the party in the Hold's courtyard, where logically they would be expected to land. Abruptly, Kimi appeared in the air above him, cluttering excitedly and darting off toward the Gather meadow. Her mind pictured Menolly. When Sebell did not move quickly enough to please her, she hovered at his shoulder and tugged at his dirty tunic, darting off again toward the meadow.
“I understand, of course. I'm tired, that's why I'm slow, Kimi,” he said. Sticking to the shadows, he skirted the cot and started down the deserted road until he was fax enough away from the guards. Then he picked up his feet and ran down the deserted road toward the new arrivals. He reached them just as the blue dragon left.
“Ah, Sebell,” said the Masterharper, for all the world as if he were welcoming his journeyman into his rooms at the Harper Hall instead of surreptitiously meeting on a dark meadow in early dawn. “Menolly, hand him his clothes. He can tell us what has been happening while he changes. Is Lord Meron so desperately ill?”
“Probably. Of temper if nothing else,” replied Sebell, stripping off his tunic and getting a shower of dust and grit in his hair and face. “He walked the Gather last evening...”
“He what!” exclaimed Master Oldive, cocking his head up at Sebell in surprise.
“He had to. And then someone stole a fire lizard queen egg from the hearth of his bedroom...”
“No?” Laughter as well as amazement colored the Harper's exclamation.
“Piemur?” asked Menolly at the same moment. “Is that why he isn't with you?”
“Is that why I've been summoned? To witness the punishment of a thieving apprentice?” Master Robinton was no longer amused.
“I don't know. Master. Kimi located Piemur in the Hold, but she couldn't explain where, said she couldn't get to him because it was too dark. I know the guards spent hours searching the Hold. Presumably they know it better than Piemur could. But,” Sebell paused. “I'm bloody certain they would have made some sort of commotion if they had found him and recovered that egg.”
“Nothing would give Lord Meron more satisfaction than to force me to punish an apprentice thieving in his Hold.”
“The message clearly states that Lord Meron is ill,” said Master Oldive. “If he was foolhardy enough to walk his Gather and then agitate himself over the loss of a queen egg, he could indeed be very ill in .his condition.”
“It's accepted fact among the Nabolese,” said Sebell, gratefully throwing aside his herdsman's cracked boots, which had rubbed his heels raw, “that the man's dying.” He glanced up at Oldive and saw the Healer's head move affirmatively.
“Did you find out whom the Nabolese prefer as heir?” asked Master Robinton.
“A grand-nephew, Deckter. A carter who runs a steady business between Nabol and Crom. He's got four sons that he keeps firmly in line. He's not a friendly man, but he's got the grudging respect of those who know him.” Sebell had finished dressing and now gestured the group toward the Hold. “I have also discerned that there are more fire lizards in and about Nabol than there ought to be. Most of them...” and he paused to give his words more weight, “are green.”
“Green?” Menolly swung on him in surprise.
“Yes, green.”
“You mean,” Menolly went on, “he's been distributing eggs from green fire lizard clutches? Why, the bloody beast!”
“On top of that insult, a lot of the eggs don't hatch at all, so you can imagine how little his generosity endears Lord Meron to the recipients,” Sebell added grimly. “Of more importance,” and Sebell held up his hand to forestall her angry words, “just after moonset, four dragons landed right in the courtyards and lifted off again so heavily laden you could hear their wings creaking.” Sebell grinned at the expressions of shock from his companions. “Further, Kimi didn't know those dragons and their presence frightened her.”
“Now that is the most interesting piece of news you've given me,” remarked the Master Harper.
He said no more because they had reached the foot of the ramp to the Hold and the group of men waiting there impatiently rushed down to meet them. Sebell recognized the Hold's harper, Candler, and the healer, Berdine. Of the other three, he recognized the two men who had supported Lord Meron on his Gather walk. The fatter man barged straight up to the Harper.
“Master Robinton, I am Hittet, of the Blood, and you simply must assist us. The situation must be clarified with all possible dispatch. As I'm sure Master Oldive will tell you, there is no time to be lost.” The others exclaimed in support of his words. “I fear that after the alarms and excitements of this night, the poor man cannot long survive. But come, we must hurry.” Then he took the Harper by the arm and urged him toward the Hold.
“Alarms and excitements? Ah, yes, you had a Gather yesterday....” Master Robinton was saying.
“I can't thank you enough for responding. Master Oldive,” said Berdine falling in step with the Healer as the others followed Hittet and Master Robinton across the Court. “I know you said that there was nothing more you could do for Lord Meron, but the truth of the matter is that he has sadly taxed what strength was left him. I warned him, oh I did most explicitly, that he ought not walk the Gather, but he was adamant. Had to reassure his holders. I think that would have been safe enough, but then he insisted on having guests in his apartments... so much excitement. And then, to discover the queen egg had been stolen!” Berdine fluttered his hands in distress. “Oh my, oh my. I was beside myself trying to calm him. He wouldn't take that draught you left me for such an emergency. He became utterly uncontrollable when they couldn't find that wretched drudge who'd stolen the egg, “
“Journeyman Berdine,” said Hittet in chilling tones, whipping about to stare warningly at the healer.
That interruption was timely made, for none of the Nabolese saw the looks of relief that the harpers exchanged.
“A drudge stealing an egg?” asked the Harper, as if he didn't believe his ears.
“Yes, if you must know,” began Hittet, still glaring at the indiscreet healer. “Lord Meron was recently given a clutch of fire lizard eggs, one of which was thought to be a queen egg. He naturally took the best care of such prizes, kept them on his own hearth. He has had a lot of experience with fire lizards, you see. He was to distribute the eggs to deserving people as the high point of the Gather Feast. When his rooms were being freshened, one of the kitchen drudges had the audacity to steal the queen egg. How, we can't yet understand. But it's gone, and that wicked lad is somewhere in the Hold.” Hittet's tone augured ill for Piemur when he was found.
None of the Nabolese noticed Beauty, Zair and Kind peeling off from airy escort and darting out an open window as the group traversed the Main hall Sebell gave Menolly's hand a reassuring squeeze. She didn't look at him, but her lips curved slightly in a smile of relief.
“You can appreciate how upset Lord Meron was when the theft was discovered, and I fear this, and our pressing him to name an heir, resulted in his collapse,” Hittet was saying to Master Robinton.
“Collapse?” Master Oldive looked sternly at Berdine, who immediately got his tongue twisted, trying to vindicate himself to his craft's Master. Master Oldive now brushed past Hittet and Master Robinton and, with the still apologetic Berdine on his heels, ran up the steps with no regard to his physical handicap or dignity.
Master Robinton also quickened his pace until the fat Hittet was forced to run to keep up. Sebell and Menolly deliberately slowed, to give their fire lizards a chance to range through the Hold and locate Piemur.
“If you could know how good it is to see a friendly face,” said Candler, quite willing to match their laggard advance to the Lord's apartments. “If anyone can make that dreadful man see reason, it's Master Robinton. Lord Meron won't name an heir. That's why he collapsed, to avoid it. He was furious about the egg theft, to be sure, but while they were searching, he was more like himself totally disagreeable and planning all kinds of fiendish punishments when they caught the drudge. Frankly, Sebell, he wants the Hold in contention. You know how he hates Benden. And now,” and Candler laughed sourly, “none of the relatives who've been badgering him to name one of them wants to be the heir. I don't know why. They changed their tune abruptly this morning. Just as well.” Candler snorted with disgust. “Any one of the lot would create disorder in next to no time.”
“Changed their minds early this morning, did they?” said Sebell, grinning at Menolly.
“Yes, and I can't figure out why. Every single one of them has done all he could to secure the nomination. Now...”
“I'd heard that Deckter was an honest man.”
“Deckter?” Candler swung toward Sebell in surprise. “Oh, the carter.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “I suppose he could be considered an heir, couldn't he? Grand-nephew, isn't he? Forgot about him. Which is probably Deckter's doing. Said he could make more money carting than he could holding. He's probably right. How'd you know about him?”
“Looked up the Nabol bloodline.”
Beauty flitted back, skimming so close to Candler that he ducked. Rocky, Zair and Kimi followed her, all chittering in some distress. All had the same message. Piemur was not in the Hold. Sebell and Menolly exchanged glances.
“Would he have hidden somewhere outside?” Menolly asked.
Sebell gave a quick shake of his head. “Kimi couldn't find him.”
“Rocky and Beauty have been much closer to Piemur than Kimi.”
“Can't hurt to try!”
“Piemur?” asked Candler, mystified by this cryptic exchange.
“I've reason to believe that the theft was accomplished by Piemur,” said Sebell. He and Menolly gave their fire lizards new instructions and watched them dart out the Hold door.
“Piemur? But I remember Piemur. The boy with the fine soprano. I didn't see him anywhere, “ Candler broke off and pointed at Sebell. “You were there when Lord Meron walked the Gather. The very drunken herdsman. I thought there was something familiar about him. It was you! Well. And Piemur here, too? On harper business? I thought it odd for one of Meron's drudges to have so much initiative. Well, I'll tell you one thing, Piemur is not in this Hold.”
“How could he have gotten out?” asked Sebell. “I was just beyond the ramp all night. Even if I didn't see him, Kimi would have.”
They had reached the Lord's apartments now, and Candler opened the door, gesturing them to precede him.
“What's that smell?” asked Menolly softly, grimacing in distaste.
“Smell? Oh, you get used to it. Disgusting, I know, but it has something to do with Lord Meron's illness. We try to mask it,” and Candler gestured to the sweet candles alight in containers about the room. “I often think that it's only justice,” he added in a careful whisper, “for the suffering he's given others, but it's a terrible way to die.”
“I thought Master Oldive had given him...” Sebell began.
“Oh, he has. The strongest there is, according to Berdine. But the medicine only dulls the pain.”
The doors to the next two rooms were open, and the harpers could see the clusters of men standing about, in silence, all avoiding each other's gaze. Suddenly, in the third room, there was a brief flurry as the Harper appeared at the door to the Lord's private room.
“Sebell.” Master Robinton's calm request carried clearly, and everyone turned to watch the Journeyman hurry to his master's side. “Please send a drum message to Lords Oterel, Nessel and Bargen, and to Weyrleader T'bor. Would they please attend us here at Nabol immediately. Double urgency on the beat, please.”
“Yes, sir,” said Sebell with such unexpected vigor that Master Robinton gave him a mild second look. But Sebell turned on his heel and walked swiftly out of the apartments, motioning as he passed them for Candler and Menolly to come with him. “I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier, Menolly. If Piemur got out of the Hold and is hiding somewhere in the hills, he'll surface to a drum message aimed at him. Lead us to your drumheights, Candler.”
The big message drums needed only to be uncovered, Sebell stood for a moment, beaters poised over the taut hide as he composed his message. The opening roll boomed across the valley, the urgent measure following as the last echoes died. Then Sebell, eyes half-closed in concentration, beat out the recipients' names, the Harper's request, and the urgent measures once again to insure immediate reply and attention. Menolly positioned herself at the window then, ears straining to catch the pass-along roll from the next drumheights.
“There it is from the east,” she told the two men. “What's wrong with the northern listeners? Still asleep? Ah, there they are.”
“Candler, any chance of some food?” Sebell asked the Hold Harper. “We'd best wait here for replies.”
“Yes, let's eat here where the air is clear,” said Menolly, with a shudder as she thought of the thick, distasteful odor in Lord Meron's rooms.
“Of course, of course. I apologize for not offering sooner.” Candler was away down the stairs.
Sebell picked up the sticks again and beat a quick measure. “Apprentice. Report. Urgent.” He waited a few breaths and then repeated the measure.
“If he's anywhere between here and Ruatha or Crom, he'll hear that,” Sebell said, carefully replacing the drumsticks on their hooks before he joined Menolly at the window.
Her face was sad and her brows constricted in a tiny frown as she gazed across the huddle of cots below the Hold ramp and over the disorganized Gather square, still tenanted by those unwillingly held over by the emergency. Few sounds wafted to their ears at this height, and the scene was unrealistically calm.
“Don't fret over Piemur, Menolly,” Sebell said, trying to sound more lighthearted than he felt. “He has a knack of landing on his feet.” He smiled down at her, allowing himself the luxury of putting his arm lightly about her shoulders.
“Except when the steps are greased!” Menolly's voice had an angry edge, and he gripped her shoulder reassuringly.
“Look at it this way. Just see how that misadventure has worked to his advantage. He's got out of the drumheights and acquired himself a queen fire lizard egg. For all we know, he may meet us at the Hold gates with it, smiling in that ingenuous fashion of his, when you and I know he's as devious as Meron.”
“I wish I could believe you, Sebell,” Menolly said sighing heavily, but she leaned trustingly against him for his comfort. “If he was anywhere in the vicinity. Beauty and Rocky ought to have found him.”
“He's somewhere,” replied Sebell firmly, and daring more than ever, he gave her a quick hug, turning abruptly from her as he caught her startled look. “The wretch!” he added, more of a growl than a comment. At that moment, they both heard the message drum roll across the mountains, and Sebell hastily strode back to the drums.
Candler arrived, just as Sebell beat 'receive' for the last of the messages. The Nabol Harper was panting with the exertion of his climb, for he carried not only a well-laden tray, but a full wine skin slung over his shoulder. The three harpers had time to make a leisurely meal before the first of the visitors arrived. The harpers then escorted the Lord Holders and T'bor to the Master Harper.
Sebell almost gagged and lost his breakfast when he brought Lords Holder Nessel and Bargen into Lord Meron's inner room. Menolly was already there with Lord Oterel and Weyrleader T'bor. He saw her mouth working to control the revulsion she was obviously feeling. Only Candler seemed impervious to the odor.
Although Sebell had seen Lord Meron the day before, he was appalled by the change in the man propped up in the bed. The eyes were sunken, pain had lined his face deeply, his skin was a pale yellow, and his fingers, plucking nervously at the fur rug that covered him, were claws with hanging bags of flesh between the knuckles. It was as if, Sebell thought, all life was centered in those hands, feebly holding onto life through the hair of the fur.
“So, I'm granted my own private gather, is that it? Well, I've no welcome for any of you. Go away. I'm dying. That's what you all wished me to do these past Turns. Leave me to it.”
“You've not named your successor,” said Lord Oterel bluntly.
“I'll die before I do.”
“I think we must persuade you to change your mind on that count,” said the Masterharper in a quiet, amiable tone.
“How?” Lord Meron's snarl was smug in his self-assurance.
“There is friendly persuasion.”
“If you think I'll name a successor just to make things easy for you and those dregs at Benden, think again!” The force of that remark left the man gasping against his props, one hand feebly beckoning to Master Oldive, whose attention was on the Harper.
“Or unfriendly persuasion,” continued Master Robinton as if Lord Meron hadn't spoken.
“Ha! You can do nothing to a dying man. Master Robin ton! You, Healer, my medicine!”
Master Robinton lifted his arm, effectively barring Berdine from approaching the sick man.
“That's precisely it, my Lord Meron,” said the Harper in an implacable voice, “we can do... nothing... to a dying man.”
Sebell heard Menolly's catch of breath as she understood what Master Robinton had in mind to force this issue with Lord Meron. Berdine started to protest, but was silenced by a growl from Lord Oterel. The healer turned appealingly to Master Oldive, whose eyes had never left the face of the Harper. Although Sebell had known how desperately Master Robinton wished for a peaceful succession in this Hold, he had not appreciated the steel in his pacific Master's will. Nabol Hold must not come into contention, not with every Holder's younger sons eager and willing to fight to the death to secure even as ill-managed a Hold as this. Such fighting could go on and on, until no more challengers presented themselves. What little prosperity Nabol enjoyed would have been wasted in the meantime with no one holding the lands properly.
“What do you mean?” Meron's voice rose to a shriek. “Master Oldive, attend me. Now!”
Master Oldive turned to the Lords Holder and bowed. “I understand, my Lords, that there are many seeking my aid at the Hold gates. I will, of course, return when my presence is required here. Berdine, accompany me!”
When Lord Meron screamed for the two healers to halt, to attend him. Master Oldive took Berdine by the arm and firmly led him out, deaf to Meron's orders. As the door closed behind him, Meron ceased his entreaties and turned to the impassive faces that watched him.
“You wouldn't? Can't you understand? I'm in pain. Agony! Something inside is burning through my vitals. It won't stop until it's eaten me to a shell. I must have medicine. I must have it!”
“We must have the name of your successor.” Lord Oterel's voice was pitiless.
Master Robinton began to name the male relatives, his voice expressionless as he intoned the list. When he had completed it, he recited it again.
“You've forgotten one. Master,” Sebell said in a respectful tone. “Deckter.”
“Deckter?” The Harper turned slightly toward Sebell, his brows raised in surprise at being corrected.
“Yes, sir. A grand-nephew.”
“Oh.” The Harper sounded surprised, at the same time dismissing the man with a flick of his fingers. He repeated the list to Lord Meron, now mouthing obscenities as he writhed on his bed. Deckter was added as an afterthought. Then the Harper paused, looking inquiringly at Lord Meron, who responded with another flow of invective, demanding Oldive's presence at the top of his voice. Again, the effort rendered him momentarily exhausted. He lay back, panting through his opened mouth, blinking to clear the sweat from his eyes.
“You must name your successor,” said T'bor, High Reaches Weyrleader, and Meron's eyes rested on the man whose private grievance with him ran deepest. For it was Lord Meron's association with T'bor's Weyrwoman, Kylara, that had caused the death of both Kylara's queen dragon, Pridenth, and Brekke's Wirenth.
Sebell watched Meron's eyes widen with growing horror as he finally realized that he would have no surcease from the pain of his body until he did name a successor, confronted as he was by men who had excellent reason for hating him.
Sebell also noted that T'bor forgot to mention Deckter. So did Lord Oterel when he took his turn. Lord Bargen recited the name first, with a glance at Oterel for his omission.
Sebell knew he would always remember this bizarre and macabre scene with horror as well as with a certain awful respect. He had long known that Master Robinton would use unexpected methods to maintain order throughout Pern and to uphold the leadership of Benden Weyr, but he had never expected such ruthlessness in the otherwise gentle and compassionate Robinton. He schooled his mind away from the stink and closeness of the room, from Meron's pain, by trying to appreciate the tactics that were being used as Lord Meron was deftly maneuvered into choosing the one man the others preferred among his heirs by their seeming to forget Deckter half the time. For a long while afterward, the flickering of glows would remind Sebell and Menolly of those eerie hours while Lord Meron tried to resist the will of his inflexible peers.
It was inevitable that Meron would capitulate. Sebell thought he could almost feel the pulsing of pain through the man's body as he screamed out Deckter's name, thinking he had chosen to displease the men who had so tormented him.
The instant he spoke Deckter's name. Master Oldive, who had gone no further than the next room, came to give the man relief.
“Perhaps it was a terrible cruelty to inflict on anyone,” Master Oldive told the Lords when they left Meron in a drugged stupor, “but the ordeal has also hastened his end. Which can only be a mercy. I don't think he can last another day.”
The other heirs, Hittet the most vocal, now barged in from the entry room, demanding to know why they had been excluded from their kinsman's presence, berating the Lord Holders and Master Robinton for this unconscionable delay and finally remembering to ask if Lord Meron had indeed named an heir. When they were told of Deckter, their reactions were compounds of relief, consternation, disappointment and then incredulity. Sebell extricated Menolly from the knot of chattering relatives and guided her to the steps down to the Main Hall and out of the Hold where they could breathe the fresh, untainted air.
A considerable and silent crowd lined the ramp, held back by the guards. At the sight of the two harpers, they began to shout for news. Was Lord Meron dead? What was happening to bring Lord Holders and the Weyrleader to Nabol?
As Sebell raised his hands for silence, he and Menolly scanned the faces, looking for Piemur in that crowd. When he had their attention, Sebell told them that Lord Meron had named his successor. A curious rippling groan came from the crowd as if they expected the worst and were steeling themselves. So Sebell grinned as he called out Deckter's name. The multiple gasp of astonishment turned into a spate of relieved cheers. Sebell then told the head guard to send for the honored man, and half the crowd followed the messengers of this mixed fortune.
“I don't see Piemur,” said Menolly in a low anxious voice, her eyes continually scanning. “Surely with us here, he'd come forward.”
“Yes, he would. And since he hasn't...” Sebell looked about the courtyard. “I wonder...” As he twisted slowly in a circle, he realized that there would have been no way for Piemur to climb out of the Hold yards. Not even a fire lizard could claw its way up the cliff above the Hold's windows. Especially not in the dark and encumbered by a fragile fire lizard egg. His eyes were drawn by the ash and refuse pits, but he distinctly remembered their being vigorously spear-searched. His glance traveled upward and paused on the small window. “Menolly!” He grabbed her by the hand and started pulling her toward the kitchen yard. “Kimi said it was dark. I wonder what's...” In his excitement, Sebell reversed back to the guard, hauling the complaining Menolly with him. “See that little window above the ashpit?” he asked the guard excitedly. “What does it open on? The kitchen?”
“That one? Naught but a stores room.” And then the guard clamped his teeth shut, looking apprehensively back to the Hold as if he had been indiscreet and feared reprisal.
His reaction told Sebell exactly what he needed to know.
“The supplies for the Southern Weyr were stored in that room, weren't they?”
The guard stared straight ahead of him, lips pressed firmly together, but the flush in his face was a giveaway. Laughing with relief, Sebell half-ran toward the kitchen yard, Menolly eagerly following him.
“You think Piemur hid himself among the stuff for the Oldtimers?” Menolly asked.
“It's the only answer that suits the circumstances. Menoily,” said Sebell. He halted right in front of the ashpit and pointed to the wall that separated the two pits. “That wouldn't be too high a jump for an agile lad, would it?”
“No, I wouldn't think so. And just like Piemur! But, Sebell, that would mean he's in the Southern Weyr!”
“Yes it would, wouldn't it,” said Sebell, unutterably relieved that the mystery of Piemur's disappearance could be explained. “C'mon. We'll send a message to Toric to be on the lookout for that rascal. I think Kimi knows Southern better than Beauty and Rocky.”
“Let's send them all. Mine know Piemur best. Oh, just wait till I get my hands on that young man!”
Sebell laughed at Menolly's fierce expression. “I told you he'd land on his feet.”