Murenny did not so much as glance toward her, asking Kindan directly, “Did you break your word?”
Kindan’s mouth was dry and he swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. More than anything, he wished he were somewhere else, that events were different, that he wasn’t pinned under the terrible glare of the Masterharper’s wrath.
Murenny’s lips tightened in Kindan’s silence. “Were you hoping to convince us of a lie?”
“Yes, Master,” Kindan answered feebly, feeling totally ashamed.
“Then how can you hope to be a harper?” the Masterharper asked, his voice challenging.
Kindan could only shake his head mutely. “I don’t know,” he confessed finally. He felt torn between getting up then and there, packing his things and leaving the Harper Hall, or just leaving. He had never felt so dejected.
Murenny turned his attention to Vaxoram.
“Why did you permit this?” Murenny asked. The older apprentice shook his head mutely and Murenny pressed him, “Who woke them in the morning?”
“I did,” Vaxoram confessed.
“Why?” Murenny asked him, his face full of curiosity. “Why did you not report this? With Kindan dishonored, your honor would be restored.”
“He was not dishonorable,” Vaxoram said, meeting the Masterharper’s eyes frankly. He glanced to Kindan. “I will not betray you.”
Kindan could only nod glumly, too numb to appreciate the depth of Vaxoram’s admission.
“Masterharper Murenny,” Koriana interjected, “I love Kindan. I would never let him do anything that would cause him dishonor.”
“Yet you have,” Murenny snapped. He gestured at the hand clasping Kindan’s and Koriana dropped it as though stung. “You have dishonored him, your father, me, your Hold, and the Harper Hall.” Murenny shifted his gaze to include Kindan. “Both of you.”
“I love her,” Kindan responded, reaching out to regain Koriana’s hand with his own.
“More than your honor?” Murenny asked relentlessly. “More than her honor?” He did not wait for their response before continuing, “What sort of love is it that demands dishonor and lies to even exist?
“How,” and his voice filled the room with its strength, “can any of you think for an instant that this stained emotion can last?”
“But I love him!” Koriana protested, breaking down into tears and burying her face in her hands.
Murenny shook his head, with a sad expression on his face. “I see only need, not love.”
Koriana looked up at him in silent shock and outrage.
“And betrayal,” Murenny continued, his voice quiet but firm. Kindan glanced hotly at the Masterharper, furious that he should cause Koriana so much pain, but Murenny met his eyes sternly, as he continued, “Betrayal of your honor, betrayal of your family, betrayal of yourself.”
“But Father would never—” Koriana began in protest.
“Not now!” Murenny cut her off. “Now you will never know how he would have behaved had you come to him honestly, with your heart open, and told him your true feelings.” He glanced toward Kindan. “Nor will you ever know how I would have responded, how I might have helped you.” He shook his head. “The two of you have betrayed each other as surely as if you’d fought a duel to the death.”
The horrible silence that fell lasted only for an instant and was shattered as a brilliant splash of gold burst into the room. Koriss entered from between, bringing a crisp air into the room and filling it with her loud, raucous cries, her eyes whirling red in anger and confusion. Koriana grabbed for her, missed, grabbed again, cradling the agitated fire-lizard tight against her body. It was a number of minutes before Koriss’s red faceted eyes changed to a calmer green and the fire-lizard nuzzled against her partner, chirping concernedly.
Kindan watched the proceedings with a growing sense of unease.
“Koriana,” he asked tensely, “does Koriss have an image for you?”
Koriana gave him a puzzled look. Kindan told her, “Close your eyes and concentrate on her.”
Koriana did so, her expression still quizzical, but only for a moment as her eyes popped open again and she told them in alarm, “Father’s coming and he’s got guards with him!”
“Yes,” Murenny murmured, glancing at Kindan and Vaxoram, “just as I’d feared.”
Under the Masterharper’s direction, the four of them met Lord Holder Bemin just outside the archway into the Harper Hall.
“Lord Holder,” Murenny called in greeting, bowing low. Bemin regarded him coldly, flanked on either side by two burly guards and trailed by four more, all carrying swords. “We were just about to come to you.”
“I see,” Bemin said. He gestured curtly to his daughter. “Koriana.”
“Father,” Koriana replied, ducking her head obediently.
“Your mother was most worried,” Bemin said. Kindan thought that that was a lie; it seemed that the Lord Holder was most agitated, which made more sense if he’d ever heard rumors of Murenny’s involvement with Sannora.
“I was fine, honestly,” Koriana replied. “We were late going through the Records—we think we might have found something vital—”
“If it were so vital, why didn’t the Masterharper send us a messenger?” Bemin interjected, a foreboding look on his face. “Why didn’t he drum a message?”
As if in answer to his question, the faint sound of distant drums echoed into Fort’s valley. Kindan, Vaxoram, Murenny, and Koriana all strained to hear the faint throbbing notes.
“Emergency,” Koriana repeated as she deciphered the first code. She and Kindan locked eyes, much to Bemin’s anger. “Emergency,” she added, her eyes going wider. “Emergency.”
The noise faded and everyone strained for any new notes.
But there were none.
“Three, not four,” Vaxoram remarked in relief, only to himself.
“A major Hold emergency,” Koriana said, sounding a bit unsure. “Not a minor Hold emergency.”
“But from where?” Murenny asked, turning as if for an answer toward the repeater tower lost in the distance.
Bemin glanced nervously at each of them in turn, ending with his daughter.
“What does it mean?” he asked Koriana. Behind him, Kindan noticed that the Fort guards had unconsciously shifted toward each other as if for protection.
“It could be Telgar,” Vaxoram suggested.
“Or Igen or Ista,” Kindan responded.
“Even if it were two, that wouldn’t be a Pern-wide emergency,” Bemin protested. “There’d have to be something involving more than half of the major Holds for that.”
Murenny nodded but his words were not reassuring. “True, but the illness was in Keroon, so why couldn’t it spread to Igen or any of the seaward minor Holds, and then how long would it be before Ista was infected?”
Bemin responded with a sour look. “If that were so, how come we haven’t heard anything from the Weyrs?”
“A good question,” Murenny replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“Well, it’s neither here nor there,” Bemin said after a moment spent fulminating. He glanced toward his daughter. “Koriana, your mother is most anxious for you.”
“My duty is here, Father,” Koriana replied resolutely.
“Your duty is where I say it is,” Bemin replied, his eyes narrowing in anger.
“Yes, my lord,” Koriana agreed with a nod of her head. “And you instructed me to be here, searching the Records, learning the drum codes, and how to control my fire-lizard.” She paused for just a moment. “So I am here, doing my duty to you and Pern.”
“Pern?” Bemin repeated, one brow arched in surprise.
Koriana nodded. “I believe, Father, that anything that we can learn about previous plagues like this will save many lives on Pern,” she replied.
“Saving lives is a job for healers,” Bemin snapped.
“And Holders,” Koriana retorted, her blue eyes flashing.
“Who told you that?
” Bemin demanded in surprise.
“You did.”
“I never—”
“You said that a Holder is responsible for all the lives in the Hold,” Koriana reminded him. The Lord Holder closed his mouth with an audible click, glaring at Masterharper Murenny accusingly.
When Murenny made no reaction, Bemin turned back to his wayward daughter. “That’s correct,” he told her. “And the holders owe their lord service, even including his own children.”
Koriana opened her mouth for another retort, but before she could speak, the air above them suddenly darkened as a large bronze dragon appeared from between.
Moments later, Valla plummeted down to Kindan, pulling up just in time to land—hard—on Kindan’s shoulder.
“It would seem that Benden has gotten your message,” Murenny said, nodding to Kindan.
The Fort Hold guards, having bunched up close to their lord, now sidled discreetly around him so as to put him between them and the bronze dragon that settled in the meadow beyond the Harper Hall, his hide gleaming bright in the full morning sun.
Not a moment after M’tal alighted from Gaminth did the sky darken again. Kindan craned his neck up to see a lithe blue dragon with three riders descend to land beside the Benden Weyr dragon. Kindan spotted the rider’s Ista Weyr colors and instantly recognized the rider as J’trel.
“What’s Ista doing here?” Bemin asked as the blue dragon landed.
“That would be Talith,” Murenny responded. “J’trel is his rider. He’s been here to the Healer Hall a number of times with—”
“Ki’da’!” a young boy cried, rushing across the field.
“Druri!” Kindan called back enthusiastically. He waved toward the blue rider and nodded at the woman who trailed along behind. “J’trel, Jalenna!”
When J’trel waved back, Kindan felt that something was wrong; the older rider was usually much more enthusiastic in his greeting. Jalenna, Kindan saw, was carrying a small bundle in a sling. The bundle squirmed awkwardly; it was not usual for Jalenna to bring young Jassi with her. Kindan felt dread and urgency emanating from both adults as they approached.
“Kindan, stand away, please,” M’tal called urgently as Druri approached.
Murenny moved to intercept the young man, diverting him from Kindan, Koriana, and Vaxoram.
“Is the plague in Ista?” M’tal said to J’trel.
“Not yet,” J’trel replied. “It may be only a matter of days, however.” He turned to the Masterharper. “I’ve come to beg a favor, Murenny.”
“What’s going on?” Bemin demanded, surprised and nervous at the sudden change in the situation.
“I’ve come for Kindan,” M’tal said. “His Valla requested that he come to Benden.” M’tal glanced down at Kindan as he added, “Though I’ve no idea why.”
“We were hoping to examine your Records,” Kindan explained with a nod toward M’tal. Bemin’s reaction made it clear to everyone that he thought Kindan was being overly familiar with the Benden Weyrleader.
“Of course,” M’tal said willingly. “If it weren’t for you, our dragons would still be chewing that hot firestone and we’d never know anything about the abilities of watch-whers.”
Bemin’s expression changed; he glanced at Kindan with a look of appraisal on his face.
“I’ve come to ask sanctuary for Druri, Jalenna, and Jassi,” J’trel said to Murenny.
“I see,” Murenny replied noncommittally, still keeping a hand on the restless Druri.
The story of Druri’s debility was well known at the Harper Hall, where the dim but kindly lad had been a regular visitor for several Turns, working with the Healers as they strove to retrain a brain tragically damaged in a near-drowning nearly five Turns ago.
The rumors in the apprentice dormitory—always rampant if not always accurate—were that J’trel had been performing aerobatics when Druri and some other boys had been out of Ista Harbor sailing in a small skiff. Their amazement with blue Talith’s antics had caused them to neglect their navigation and the skiff hit a reef, the mast fell on Druri, cracking his skull and many precious minutes were lost before he was brought out of the water, drowned and dead. At Jalenna’s request, J’trel had taken quick action to revive the boy, but it had been too late to prevent Druri’s brain from being severely damaged. Rumors went on, wildly, to assert that J’trel had had a romantic liaison with Jalenna resulting in Jassi. Kindan tended to discount such rumors as everyone knew that blue riders preferred to partner with green riders, and that both riders were usually male.
“We should leave now,” M’tal said to Kindan, nodding apologetically to J’trel as he added, “I don’t want to risk the chance of Kindan catching the illness.”
“There’s a risk of the illness from these?” Bemin demanded, waving at the three Ista holders and the blue rider.
“I don’t think so,” J’trel replied, “or I wouldn’t have brought them here.”
“But you don’t know,” Bemin persisted.
“No, Lord Holder,” J’trel answered, his voice going stiff.
“I can’t permit it,” Bemin said. “I can’t let my Hold—”
“I make this request of the Healer Hall, not Fort Hold,” J’trel interjected.
“All the same,” Bemin retorted hotly. “I won’t let—”
“Lord Holder, I don’t know if you really have a choice,” Murenny interrupted in a soft voice.
Bemin shot him an angry look and Murenny contined quickly, “How many ships have docked at Fort Sea Hold since we received the first word of the illness?”
“But—”
“And how many have offloaded fish?” J’trel asked, guessing the train of Murenny’s reasoning. “And how many fished off Ista or Keroon? How many set in to one of those Holds or minor Holds or merely put a boat ashore to gather water?”
“But—but—we don’t know—” Bemin spluttered.
“You are absolutely correct, my Lord Holder,” Murenny agreed with a nod of his head. “We don’t know.” He frowned. “In fact, with that last drum message we don’t know if the emergency was in Igen, Telgar, or even Southern Boll Holds.” He glanced toward M’tal. “We need more information.”
The Benden Weyrleader nodded in understanding.
“We think the last plague started on the east coast,” Kindan said, inserting himself into the conversation despite the knot in his stomach. “That’s why I’ve asked to review the Records at Benden Weyr.”
“But what about the Harper Hall Records?” Bemin demanded.
“Fragments, scattered reports, nothing to give us a decent picture of what to expect,” Koriana said, meeting her father’s angry eyes with her concerned ones. “Let me go with him, Father,” she pleaded. “For our Hold, for our people.”
“Why do you have to go?” Bemin asked, his tone less belligerent than worried.
“Because I know what to look for,” Koriana replied. “And because we need to know as soon as we can.” She gestured to Kindan, Vaxoram, and herself. “We three are best at that.” She gave Vaxoram a sympathetic look before she continued, “Vaxoram has a hard time reading, Father. It takes him twice as long as it does me. If I don’t go, it will take nearly twice as long to get our answers—and what will happen in the meantime?”
“Your mother—”
“Mother would say, ‘Go, do what you must,’” Koriana predicted.
Bemin let out a long fuming sigh and nodded reluctantly. Then he turned to Kindan. “And you, have you been honorable?”
“No, my lord,” Kindan admitted. “I have not.”
M’tal gave him a startled look, a look which Kindan would have given anything never to have earned.
“We slept in the same bed,” Koriana said. “We kissed but nothing more.” She reached out toward Kindan as she told her father, “I love him.”
Bemin turned furiously toward Murenny. “No,” he said hoarsely. “This cannot be. I will not permit it.”
Before anyone could respond,
another drum message rumbled through the valley.
“Emergency,” Kindan and Koriana translated in unison, their eyes locking in a rush of fear and dread. “Emergency. Emergency. Telgar Hold. Send help. Please.”
Even before the words had registered, the drums started again.
“Plague in Nabol, please help,” Kindan translated, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.
“Plague in Crom,” Koriana added, turning to her father pleadingly.
Bemin looked at her for one moment more before nodding decisively. “Go!” he told her. He turned to M’tal and gestured to Kindan, “You will guard her honor?”
“My word as a dragonrider,” M’tal responded in leaden tones.
“You have my word, also, Lord Holder,” Kindan added in a small voice.
“Your word has no value to me,” Bemin responded harshly. He gestured to Vaxoram. “He’ll go with you, too, won’t he?” Kindan nodded and Bemin told Vaxoram, “You will sleep in the same room with him; never leave without him.”
“My lord,” Vaxoram agreed with a stiff bow.
“Go then,” Bemin said, waving his hand angrily. He turned to Murenny. “You and I will discuss these other matters now.”
“Come on,” M’tal said gruffly to Kindan and the others, turning on his heel and speeding his way back to his bronze dragon. He arranged for Koriana to be sandwiched between himself and Vaxoram, with Kindan seated behind the older apprentice.
Gaminth rose into the air with an urgency that seemed almost angry to Kindan, as though the dragon were reflecting the rider’s mood. As they went between, Kindan reached a hand forward to touch Koriana but dropped it as he remembered his promise.
He felt as doomed as all Pern.
CHAPTER 8
Harper to your word be true
Holder, crafter you also hew
To honesty, integrity, and respect
All others without regard to intellect.
BENDEN WEYR
The cold of between remained in Kindan’s bones as they burst out into the waning daylight of a Benden Weyr experiencing a midwinter freeze. The crest of the Weyr was snow-covered as were all the mountains in the distance.
Anne Mccaffrey_ Dragonriders of Pern 20 Page 16