While he was being served a welcome cup and seated, the two devices were passed around the table for everyone to examine.
"Now what's all this about your people being bribed, Fandarel?" F'lar asked, setting aside the delights of the device for the more important consideration. "That's serious."
"It distresses me, my Journeyfolk and Masters because it undermines the discipline of my Craft Hall and the honor and loyalty which has always governed us.”
Nicat muttered a ‘here‑here' to that sentiment.
"Who's doing the bribing?" R'mart wanted to know. "Toric?" The Telgar Weyrleader made no bones about his distrust of the southern Holder.
"Not always."
"Oh, then who?" R'mart demanded, surprised.
Fandarel shrugged. "Let them remain nameless, Weyrleader.” Our Craftsmen and women did not accept the offered bribes and informed me of each occurrence. But I worry about the apprentices who might not have such scruples."
G'dened snorted. "I've heard of bribery in Ista Hold. Lord Warbret's furious. He's also lost some young men and women who're knowledgeable enough about the sea but haven't formally been apprenticed yet. And there, it is Toric, or his agents, who're promising high marks because Istans would ‘understand’ the hazards of the Southern Continent since they're already used to tropical conditions." G'dened snorted.
"Not the same at all,” F'lar said. "Ista's been settled a long, long time and has fewer of the hazards that the Southern Continent has in plenty."
"Exactly, and furthermore . . .” G'dened began.
"We don't actually have many more sites available right now,” Talmor said, looking through his papers. "And it's not just a matter of having trained craftspeople to staff them.
Master Fandarel. It's sites that are accessible. So far, we've concentrated on river and oceanside positions so there is at least one means of transportation and contact. Especially when the northern born have not had a chance to acquire fire‑lizards. Of course that device of yours would be of enormous assistance in that respect,” and he nodded to the hand‑held.
"That is the bad news I have for you,” Fandarel said with a heavy sigh. "We will need a workforce to make the transistors required and to assemble the components. They will have to be trained and we will need at least one knowledgeable person of Journey rank to oversee the work. Master Benelek needs all the young folk he can train for the terminals and cannot give the Hall more time. I have a long list of those who have requested this efficient and effective little device."
Lessa covered her smiling mouth at his use of his favorite words. ‘Effective' was now always paired with ‘efficient' in his lexicon. It was ironic that when he finally had achieved a device that satisfied his high standards, he hadn't the people to produce the units.
"As well as the demand for any one of the many projects people have applied for our Craft to fabricate,” he added, "I've had to assign Master Terry three assistants to deal with requests alone and we have given up trying to make efficient and effective deliveries." Fandarel's sigh was more regret than satisfaction at so much business on his books.
"I, too, am overwhelmed, Weyrleaders” put in Master Nicat.
"Every mine known to the Craft, and certainly all the new ones from the Ancients' records, are being worked and I've had to ask those older miners I asked to return to the Hall to answer the priorities required to do Aivas' work to remain on in supervisory capacities. I can't afford to lose one able‑bodied man or those women we have in the Hall.
“Then,” and he threw up his hands, "people started applying to me for stoneworkers. There's not much call for stoneworkers as most holders enlarge their quarters over the winter months. And masonry's not strictly a Miners Craft skill. But no‑one else trains men to work stone. And all the dressed stone will have to be shipped south! I ask you, how will that be accomplished'?" If he saw R'mart's knowing look or the glances that F'lar and Lessa exchanged, he gave no notice. "One thing Aivas didn't seem to have in those exhaustive files of his was much about improvements in quarrying and masonry." Unexpectedly, a grin spread across Nicat's round face with its fringe of white hair.
"Really? Well, it's almost a relief to find out he wasn't infallible,” F'lar remarked at his driest. "Do you have men trained for stonework?"
"Actually, we're training some right now, Nicat said, screwing his face up and sighing. "That sculptor fellow, Edwinrus, has a couple of young sons and has taken on a few more likely lads. He's put aside some artistic commissions to give me a hand. I could use half again as many apprentices in that trade and the same number in mining, what with Hamian wanting more and more trained miners down at Karachi. He'll have to take apprentices and train them up as he wants them. I even walked those Caves of Laudey's to see if there were any men able‑bodied enough for that sort of work."
"Laudey still has people in the Caves?" Lessa asked in surprise. "I thought they all got put to work during the special projects.
"Some of those projects have ended, you know” Nicat remarked. "So he got some of the holdless back but mainly it's the old and infirm who're in those Caves. However, Larad says he could free up some of those prisoners,” Nicat continued, "the ones who he feels have served sufficient time and could be more profitably used elsewhere. At least they're accustomed to stonework."
"In point of fact, it's the dearth of suitable stone that curtails settling in some of the open plains areas,” Talmor said, shuffling around his various maps and reports.
"Those areas will just have to wait until after the Pass is over,” F'lar said, dismissing that consideration. "Sometimes I wonder why we let ourselves get talked into being responsible for the development of the Southern Continent”
"Because Weyrleaders are the only ones who could be entrusted with such a responsibility . . . " Fandarel bellowed at the same moment that Master Nicat rose half out of his chair to say much the same thing. They regarded each other with their uncharacteristic vehemence.
G'dened and R'mart grinned.
"With the Harper Hall as your consciences,” Talmor added in a mild tone, "and the fervent agreement of all the Lords Holder and Master Craftsmen ‑ "With the notable exception of Toric,” Lessa said, sardonically cocking one eyebrow.
"Be that as it may,” F'lar went on, with a nod of gratitude to the two Master Craftsmen, "dragonriders are stretched, too, between Threadfalls all over the world, mapping and conveying. Shortly, we'll have to open a Weyr in the Honshu area”
"Surely not at Honshu Weyrhold,” Fandarel said, shocked out of his usual phlegmatisim to pounce on F'lar's words.
"Not likely,” Flar said with a laugh, glancing at Lessa to forestall a terse comment from her as well. "But we will need stone for a decent Weyrhall for that as we haven't been able to locate any suitable craters down south."
"You do remember, don't you. your promise to T'bor,” said R'mart, leaning toward F'lar and smiling lopsidedly.
"That he could turn over the Weyrleadership of High Reaches and go back south?" F'lar nodded his head. "When this Pass is over, he can do what he pleases."
"When this Pass is over Nicat said wistfully on a long sigh.”
A respectful silence followed that as each member of the meeting let thought dwell on the time when.
"By the by, Master Fandarel,” R'mart said, snagging one of the maps out of the array on the table and sliding it to the Smith, we located that ridge for you, the one which is indicated as a source of iron on the Ancients' spatial map."
"Where?" Fandarel was instantly alert and reached his long arm across the table to retrieve the paper.
"There, in those foothills. We've staked and flagged it to be recognized. Good site, actually, a fine river nearby. You might consider setting up another Hall down there." R'mart was half‑teasing, knowing how devoted Master Fandarel was to the main Craft Hall site in Telgar.
"We may indeed have to consider that in due course,” Fandarel said, his eyes scanning the map while one huge index finger follow
ed the course of the river. "It wouldn't be fair to have all the Main Craft Halls in the north. Give some of my good Masters a chance to show their abilities."
"Make it easier to mine and process the ore at the same site,” Master Nicat said, rising to peer over Fandarel's shoulder at the map. "See any blackstone?"
"Didn't look for it, Master Nicat, but we can,” R'mart replied.
"Nice stretch of trees nearby. And a sweet little valley where folks could farm."
"Ah, the possibilities are endless now, are they not?" Nicat said with great satisfaction.
"Did we but have the trained men and women,” Fandarel added wistfully.
"Well,” F'lar began, "it is obvious that we can proceed no faster than we are doing in the matter of southern settlements, no matter what accusations are made."
"We shall do our best to counter those,” Fandarel said, looking at Nicat, who nodded vigorous accord. "We shall also do our best to indicate that it is a lack of trained personnel that holds the whole process up. I shall so inform my Craft Masters, Journeyfolk and apprentices." He looked at Master Nicat who hastily added that he would do likewise.
"When will more of these be available?" F'lar asked, holding up one of the intercom devices.
"I was thinking of the most efficient way of doing that;” and now Fandarel turned to Master Nicat, "those elderly and infirm at Igen, do they have their wits about them and the use of their fingers?"
Nicat frowned down at his fingertips, splayed out on the stone table. "Aye, I believe they do."
"Good then. That is all that is really needed, sight and ten fingers. We've already put some of our elderlies to work and they are glad of the marks in their hands, I can tell you."
"Besides which, it's an efficient use of available personnel, isn't it,” Lessa said, managing to keep a straight face though Talmor took a fit of coughing and R'mart and G'dened looked everywhere except at her or the Smith.
"I shall leave this one with you, F'lar, Lessa” Fandarel said, formally bowing to make the presentation. "It will reach me at the Smith Craft Hall should you need to speak with me."
"Quite useful, I assure you” Nicat answered. "I don't know how I've managed without it..”
F'lar escorted the two Master Craftsmen out of the Council Room. Then Lessa allowed herself the luxury of a chuckle while the others smiled broadly. When F'lar returned, he was grinning as well but he rubbed his hands together.
"We'll just wind this meeting up, shall we?"
"Not much more to say, is there?" Talmor said. "And we thought we were busy doing Aivas' bidding!'
"I wonder if he knew just how much he was altering our whole lives . . . " Lessa said, making a sweeping movement with one arm.
"Quite likely he did,” R'mart said sardonically, "which is why he quit on us before we could disconnect him, or whatever it is one does with a machine."
"He could at least have stayed around until we were well into the Transition,” Lessa said, slightly mutinous.
"And bear your reproaches, my dear?" asked F'lar, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked at his weyrmate.
Lessa gave a sniff.
"He knew at least one person would make efficient and effective use of the Library,” Talmor said, grinning.
"Enough out of you, Harper,” Lessa said with mock astringency. "Did you find anywhere, R'mart, remotely resembling a weyr possibility?"
"Not a cave nor a crater we could use among any of those hills,” R'mart said with disgust.
"Plenty of stone for Master Nicat, though” G'dened said.
Talmor continued making his notations on the borders of the charts and sighing occasionally.
"Now here I have no special comments,” he said, turning the edge of the map toward R'mart.
"That's because there is nothing special to comment on. More hills, valleys, rivers, rocks."
"Ah, but rocks can be useful,” Talmor said and made the appropriate notation.
"When the Pass is over”
It was an hour or more before the Weyrleaders had finished their discussions of the newly charted lands and the visitors left.
"I'll be so glad when we've got the entire continent mapped out,” Lessa said, sighing.
"I doubt we'll have discovered all we need to know about for the time being . . . until we have enough folks to distribute,” F'lar said, gathering her slight body to his with one arm as they made their way into Ramoth's weyr. She was asleep, her nostrils twitching a bit and her foreleg claws scrabbling against her stone bed as her dream caused her to open and close them. "Is she hungry?"
"Shouldn't be,” Lessa said. "She hunted well earlier this sevenday below Landing. The southern beasts really are better tasting."
"All the fuss is worth the trouble, Lessa,” F'lar reminded her. "We shan't disabuse the trust that's been placed in us to dispense the land impartially. And dragonriders will have their own stakes in the Southern Continent. We'll never be beholden to Halls or Holds again."
Lessa knew that he had never forgotten Benden's situation at the end of the Last Interval, when only three holds had tithed to the lone Weyr and dragonriders had been reduced to conditions no small holder would have endured. It was ironic that, in finding the solution to the recurring problem of Thread, they had also ended the reason for their privileges.
Aivas had reassured them on one point: the dragons would not just cease to mate because the orbit of the Red Star had been disrupted. They were as established a species on Pern as the dolphins and would continue to prosper, though perhaps not in the same large numbers. A shallow mating flight would keep the clutches small. It required more control of both queen and bronze but it was a feasible deterrent. Commonly in Intervals, the queens did not rise as often anyway.
"No,” Lessa said with a devious smile, her eyes sparkling, "they will be beholden to us for the peace and tranquillity after this Pass is over!" She liked that.
"We must still wait carefully for the appropriate moment, my heart,” he said but he, too, smiled in anticipation.
"I wager you that it's Toric who provides the excuse,” she said, a slight tinge of malice in her tone. "He's greedy and he's never forgiven us for deceiving him about the true size of the Southern Continent." Her grin was sweetly malicious as she recalled that victory.
"You say that every time the subject comes up, so you're probably right about him,” F'lar said equably. "Still he's done more to properly site new settlers than anyone else."
"Especially that group that tried to take over his island,” and Lessa gave a very girlish giggle of amusement. "He'll never let us forget that one. Still, we were right not to interfere.
"Then,” F'lar said in a significantly weighted tone. They'd reached the table where they'd been eating a light meal which Laudey's appearance had interrupted. He lifted the klah jug and felt it. "Cold. Let's see what's going in the lower cavern. That way we'll be harder to find."
They grinned conspiratorially and, hand in hand, made their way back to the stairs of the Weyr and down across the Bowl to the kitchens.
The dolphins gave warning, ringing the Bells that were now situated in ten locations on the coasts. They rang the Big Bell at Tillek Sea Hold early that morning, though Tillek was further north than the storm's course. But the pod that swam in the great bays also knew that the Master Fishman Idarolan was pod leader for all fish boats and should know what affected his Craft. In appreciation of dolphin help to all seafarers, Master Idarolan had had built a really fine dolphin marina where they could bring the injured and sick animals of the Western Sea.
Idarolan himself answered the Bell, well wrapped up against the chill of pre‑dawn.
"Bad blow, bad bad bad blow,” the pod leader told him, wagging her head while her pod mates nodded emphatically.
"Ships can sink in bad bad bad blow. Blow against rocks." Of which there were many on the less hospitable western coastline.
"Exactly where do you think it will hit?" Idarolan asked. He'd had a harper d
rawer make up a huge map of Pern, the seas in the bright primary color the dolphins could recognize as ‘sea' as opposed to the ‘dark' landmasses.
He lowered this now, close enough for Iggy to nose out the storms course.
She indicated the vast expanse of water just below the Eastern Current and skidded her nose under Southern Boll, aiming it directly at Southern Weyr and Hold. "Blow big there. First land. Blow all day, all night, all day, all night. Looooong blow. Warm water, much cold air,” Iggy shook her head at the unfavorable mixture. "Blow blow blow bad bad bad."
Her pod mates squeeed high and loud to stress the dangers.
"We've some ships out Idarolan ran through the list of those he knew from this port. "Fishing”
"We swim, we see, we tell,” Iggy promised. "We warn Iddie pod leader." Iggy loved to say the Master Fishman's name as it was so much like her own.
"I appreciate that very much, Iggy." He held out the first fish from the pail always kept full by the Bell and she rose neatly to accept his offering. Then he flicked out thank you’ into the waiting mouths. He had a good aim and none of those who had accompanied the messenger were slighted.
Master Idarolan trundled back to his warm hold and started writing messages for fire‑lizards to carry. He sighed as he did so for it was likely that the fleet finny friends of the deep would relay the warning far faster than even fire‑lizards could be despatched.
His first message went to Lord Toric for that man would batter his Craft Hall with complaints if such news was not sent first to him. The dolphins couldn't measure wind speeds in any gauge comprehensible to humans. They did not have to cope with winds, anyway, merely high seas and they'd either swim to calmer waters or through combers. They often delighted in the rougher seas as ways of testing their skills.
There had been rather a lot of storms in the past two Turns and Master Idarolan had heard whispers that this was due to changing the Red Star's orbit. Master Wansor of the Smith Craft Hall who had made a study of the stars and was one of his own leading Sea Masters had learned the Craft of meteorology from Aivas and had ridiculed the possibility but that hadn't kept it from being repeated, and credited by those without the specialized knowledge to recognize its fallacies. Idarolan had sat in on as many of Aivas lectures on weather formation, winds and currents as he could make time for. There were valid reasons for the formation of both calm, clear weather and storms. The weather satellites established by the Ancients still gave back their information but not always were they read right. The dolphins were more reliable than instrumentation set at Landing, so far away from the point of the depression.
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