Dolphins of Pern

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Dolphins of Pern Page 24

by Anne McCaffrey


  As badly as Readis thought his mother would react, the actual storm that followed his father's account of his son's various offences against his Hold, against parental teaching and tolerance, his consorting with dolphins, his absence from the Landing school, brought such a tirade down on his head that he was unable to speak out in self‑defence. Until she ranted that he was without conscience, loyalty or honour in his devious and unworthy association with shipfish.

  "Dolphins, Mother, dolphins,” he said. "And I've always kept my promise to you.

  She halted in her ranting, her face pale, her eyes huge and, if the tear streaks on her cheeks tormented him, her injustice made him speak out.

  "You have not!”

  "I have, too. I have never been alone with the dolphins or in the sea. There has always been someone else with me.

  "That isn't at issue”

  "But it is. I promised you the day after the dolphins rescued me and Unclemi that I wouldn't go by myself to swim and I never have. Not in ten Turns!”

  "But you were a child! How could you remember that'?"

  "Mother, I remembered. I have obeyed. I have never come to harm from the dolphins”

  "But you have neglected your own family and the Hold's needs at a time when we needed everyone's help, everyone's loyalty”

  "The dolphins are part of Paradise River Hold,” Readis began and she slapped his face as hard as she could and he staggered back, rocked from the insecure balance of standing on the toe of one foot.

  For a moment there was complete silence in the room.

  Aramina rarely used physical punishment and the slaps she had given her children for naughtiness had been admonitory not punitive. She hadn't even so much as tapped his hand in rebuke since he had started at the Landing school.

  "Dolphins . . . are . . . not . . . part of this Hold!" she said fiercely, stringing out the words to emphasize her anger and denial. "I'm sure there is work to which your father can put you now. You will do it and you will never mention those wretched creatures in my presence again. Do you understand'?"

  "Yes,” Readis managed to say, "I understand." He could not at that moment call her "Mother”. He turned his head to his father, awaiting orders.

  Jayge, whose expressionless face told Readis nothing, beckoned for Readis to follow him.

  Fortunately, the Ancients had built all the river‑bank holds on stone pillars that elevated the floors four to five steps above ground level. This had provided breezeways under the dwellings for cooling in hot weather, but it also provided protection against occasional flooding. The holders blessed that precaution when the gale‑driven tides had lapped at the top steps, and even flowed on to the porch flooring, right up to the doors, but not over the thresholds. The storehouses had lost their light roofs but their walls and floors had withstood the gales, as they had done for centuries. But there was debris to be removed, and help required to rig some sort of covering for supplies; stored crates and canisters to be inspected for damp, clothing to be hung out to dry, dead animals to be butchered. The injured, human and animal, had by then been attended. Readis was set to help with the skinning and dressing down. That had to be completed by nightfall and the meat refrigerated.

  Nazer had the generator running again so there was power for lights and cooling. Readis worked alongside other holders, grateful for the fact that no‑one else knew of his dereliction.

  Kami had evidently only told his parents that he had returned with her. Readis didn't think he could stand any more reproaches. While he had learned how to compensate for the antrophied muscles in the bad leg and he sat or leaned against some sturdy support whenever possible, he had to work at top speed to dress the carcasses down and, by midnight, the muscles in both legs were jumping with strain and he was exhausted. But nothing would make him take a break until everyone else quit.

  He had had klah and a fish roll when food was passed round which had eased hunger pangs. He'd had nothing since eating at school early that morning.

  When the last haunch was prepared for the cooler, Nazer sent everyone to their beds. Readis started off toward his home, and stopped half‑way there. He could see that a light had been left burning on the porch but he couldn't ‑ he just couldn't ‑ go back under that roof right now. He veered toward the animal shed. He'd be warm enough under the temporary roof despite the slight chill of the sea breeze. He'd sleep anywhere he laid himself down. And he did.

  He was unprepared for being roughly shaken out of a deep sleep.

  "So here's where you are!" his sister Aranya said, her expression accusatory. "Father's been searching everywhere for you but Uncle Alemi swore he hadn't seen you. You've got Mother in a terrible state over your shameful”

  "I'll take that from . . . my mother,” Readis said, putting his fist in her face and having the satisfaction of seeing his sister stumble backwards, frightened, "but I don't have to take it from you, Rannie." Then he decided to take a small revenge on his usually tender‑hearted sister. "My leg ached so I couldn't walk another step." And he rubbed both hands down the withered muscles.

  "Oh, Readis, Father said Nazer told him you'd stayed on till the bitter end last night. They looked for you there, first. Then Mother was certain you'd gone to those wretched creatures who caused all your problems."

  "The dolphins,” he said with distinct emphasis on their proper designation, "have caused me no problems at all. A wretched thorn did!”

  "Well, Mother says you wouldn't have got the thorn in your foot if you " She broke off when he raised his fist in her direction again. "You'd better come home. I'll tell them where I found you and that will be that."

  It wasn't. His mother was close to hysterical again and his father, reckoning the cost of the storm to the Hold's prosperity, was in a sour mood.

  Later Readis would realize how strained everyone had been then, tempers and patience too stretched to allow for any tolerance but, when his mother insisted that he give her his word that he would never again have anything to do with shipfish ‑ and her use of that term as well as the tone of voice she used further inflamed him ‑ then he, too, lost his temper.

  "That is a promise I cannot make!”

  "You will make it and abide by it,” his mother told him, her eyes inflamed and sparkling with anger, "or you cannot live in the Hold!”

  "As you will,” he said, cold despite the trembling in his guts.

  He stalked down the hall to his room where he filled a travel sack with everything he could lay his hands on.

  "You promise me, Readis,” his mother screamed down the hall at him. "You promise . . . "she began again at his doorway.

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  "I'm going for I cannot promise that, Mother.

  "Going to those awful creatures?"

  "Now that's a ridiculous idea,” he said, scornful and, though he didn't know it, sounding so much like his father at that moment that Aramina was so stunned by the similarity that he was able to push past her before she could recover to prevent him.

  Limping as fast as he could, he made for the kitchen, sending out a piercing whistle for Delky. He'd seen her grazing, as usual, near the house when he and Aranya had left the shed. He saw his wide‑eyed sisters and younger brother sitting at the table, an uneaten breakfast proving that they had been listening to the row. As he got the kitchen door, Delky whinnied a greeting.

  Although his bad leg nearly collapsed, Readis managed to vault to her back, balancing his duffel before him. He heard his mother, demanding at the top of her voice that he come back inside the house right now as he kicked Delky into a canter, putting as much distance between himself and his unyielding parent as possible.

  Delky had to dodge fallen trees and piled debris, nearing unseating him several times but he kept her heading toward the river. The bridge had already been partially restored so that both sides of the river bank were accessible. There were just enough planks down for Delky, surprised and cautious but obedient to his insistence, to cros
s without losing a foot in a gap. When he got to the other side, he sent her flying down the sands and on into the scrub vegetation. He slowed her down only when the rough going might injure her. He couldn't afford to lame her right then. He stopped only when they had reached jungle again and would be invisible to anyone searching for him from the air. Then he slipped from Delky's back, his sack under him and wept in frustration, anger and heartbreak.

  Chapter Twelve

  K’van strode into the Weyrwoman's quarters with the briefest nod to Ramoth asleep on her couch.

  "It's Lord Toric again, Lessa, F'lar,” the Southern Weyrleader said, with an angry slap of his riding gloves on his thigh as he came to a halt by the table where they were having an evening glass of wine as they studied storm damage reports from the Southern Continent.

  K'van might be the youngest Weyrleader but he was now as old as F'lar had been when Mnementh had flown Ramoth and become Weyrleader. He had attained more height than his adolescence had suggested, for his shoulders had broadened, his legs had lengthened and his eyes were at a level with F'lar's when they were standing. F'lar gestured for K'van to be seated and poured a glass of wine for him.

  "You look as if you need it."

  "I do,” K'van said with a sigh as he dropped into the chair opposite Lessa. "And you will, too."

  "So what has Toric done this time?" Lessa asked, amused.

  "He hasn't done it yet but he's about to. Go across the river and settle it with his chosen, having prepared a place for them. He's never been the least bit altruistic so I know he's up to something and I've a hunch what it is." It gave K'van little satisfaction to see how angrily the Weyrleaders reacted to Toric's latest show of arrogance. "We found incontrovertible evidence of substantial shelters in eight different locations, coastal, riverside and in‑land. His harbor master is saying that the ships are being loaded for a down‑river supply run but I doubted that even when he gave me the smooth lie."

  Lessa pursed her lips angrily, her eyes sparkling.

  "Toric's never been satisfied, has he?" she asked rhetorically and then pounded her fist on the table. "Greedy, that's what he is. And he's got a larger Hold than any of the Ancients ever staked out." She leaned toward F'lar. "We can't let him away with this, F'lar. We can't!”

  "Lessa, we also can't stop him.”

  "Why not?" she demanded.

  "We can't interfere with a Lord Holder." The Weyrleader scowled deeply, for once annoyed to be constrained by that tradition.

  "But Toric isn't within his Hold if he's across the river, now is he?" K'van asked, his tenor voice at its mildest. The slight smile on his face was sly. "Oh, I know, he asked us to help him with Denol and that group who tried to take over lerne Island, but that is part of the holding you granted him. This land is all beyond his Hold borders.

  "You're sure of that, K'van?" F'lar asked.

  "That he's out of his own Hold? Yes, even the eastern bank of the river is not his. Not according to the map I have that outlines Southern Hold, from river to sea, and inclusive of lerne Island

  "Which he insisted on having at the time,” Lessa said, angry red spots appearing on her tanned cheeks. She had clenched her fists. "And we only gave in to that demand because I wanted Jaxom to have Sharra."

  F'lar brushed back the lock which always escaped to cover his eyes at moments like these. "You're right he's up to something.

  I have a sudden, totally unworthy thought F'lar then shook his head and dismissed the thought unspoken with a wave of his hand. "I believe I'd better wait to justify such base suspicions." He grinned at K'van and Lessa. The look in the young Weyrleader's eye suggested he might be entertaining the same notion.

  "What suspicions? Of course they'd be base, coming from Toric. But just what?" Lessa wanted to know.

  "Later, love. Tell me, K'van, does he have settlers all lined up and ready to settle?"

  K'van nodded. "I had nothing specific to report to you until now, but we keep our eyes open to Toric's doings. Discreetly, of course. Over the past few months there have been more than a normal number of well‑laden ships making port at Southern.

  Each carrying ten to twenty passengers, sometimes family, sometimes singles. You know he's built four coastal cruisers?

  Yes, well. They're lumberly craft but have shallow draft and good cargo space. At any rate, he's got a lot of people in and about the Hold who haven't gone inland as I'd've thought they would ‑ if they were his new settlers. He's never hidden the fact that he's been recruiting crafters. All perfectly legal since he hasn't settled all the land he rightfully holds. No reason for a Weyrleader to poke his nose where he's no right to sniff." K'van grinned, his eyes glinting cynically. K'van kept strictly to the Traditions that governed Weyr and Hold, knowing that Toric would rave about any infringement by Weyr on Hold prerogatives. "But when no‑one moved out, by land or by sea, all I could do was wait until I had something definite to bring to your attention. At the last gather, there were marks circulating from every northern Hall and Hold and some rumors that Toric's been selling sites. In his own Hold, he has that right but K'van lifted his hand, "not across the river!”

  "He wouldn't dare!" Indignation and outrage fueled Lessa's anger. "He's got the gall to charge for what settlers should have by right of their own hard work?"

  "A neat scheme,” F'lar said, sardonically amused by such connivance. "And I wouldn't doubt if the payment in marks isn't followed by a different sort of payment later on." K'van nodded. "When the Council of Holders might need to vote on other business."

  Lessa opened her mouth, her dark eyes widening as she began to understand the scale of Toric's plan. "Base isn't a vile enough description of what he plans to do! I knew we were wrong to call a complete halt to new settlings,” she said, in spite of what Fandarel and Nicat said, and in spite of the lack of suitable places. They wouldn't have been half so eager to take up Toric's offer if they could have come to us.

  "So, do you have proof of Toric's encroachment on unapportioned lands?" F'lar asked.

  "Indeed we have. The storm flattened whole swathes of forestry as wide as a Threadfall and what do you know? There were five settlements all too visible to my sweep riders. So we went looking to see if there might be a few more, and located another three. All built and ready to be occupied. And then there's Lord Toric's harbor full of laden ships . . . " K'van shrugged, not needing to say more.

  "He didn't lose any ships to the storm?" F'lar asked, a tinge of annoyance in his voice as he nodded at the reports spread out on the table, itemizing storm losses.

  K'van grinned. "I know that Master Idarolan passed a dolphin warning on to him as well as to the Weyr so Toric had time, and the good sense, to batten his shipping down. Toric doesn't leave much to chance."

  "Does he know you've overflown these totally illegal sites of his?" Lessa said, her voice harsh with the anger seething inside her.

  "I doubt it,” K'van said. "Once they realized what they were seeing, my sweep riders avoided Southern Hold on their way back."

  "We can tackle this encroachment several ways,” F'lar said, leaning back in his chair, a malicious smile on his lips as he idly twirled the stem of his glass.

  "There's only one way” Lessa began and he held up his hand

  "Hear me out. We could dismantle those settlements so there'd be no . . . ah accommodations left for these settlers of his when they finally sail forth. They'd be forced to go back to Southern. This is not the season to be without shelter, if that storm is any preview of a rough winter down south. But I would like to show other Lord Holders, who have been courteous enough to bide their time, what sort of trickery Toric has been up to. Making people pay for land they have the right to!”

  "He's so certain that we're holding out the best lots for ourselves ‑ Lessa began, giving vent to her outrage. "Just because he wasn't at the Council when the Lords asked the Weyrleaders to officiate, he refuses to believe that we did not want anything to do with land settlements, that we protested abo
ut taking on such responsibilities F'lar regarded his diminutive weyrmate with more amusement than choler. "We didn't protest that strongly, love, now did we?"

  "Only because it was all too plain what would happen if someone with some claim to impartiality didn't take charge. And it was we who insisted that all Weyrleaders took part, not just Benden which was the intention of Larad of Asgenar who proposed the notion. And we also insisted that the Harper Hall keep records of all transactions."

  "I know Toric's certain that dragonriders will get preference” K'van began.

  "And shouldn't we?" Lessa demanded of the young Weyrleader.

  "I certainly feel we should,” K'van answered firmly, all too aware of the Weyrwoman's temper and determined not to fall foul of it, “since it's the last concession we'll expect of Pern.”

  “Adrea and I found a place that we feel we'd be very happy in. Found it on my very first mapping sweep."

  "Adrea likes it?" Lessa asked, momentarily diverted from her castigation of Toric.

  "Oh, yes, we've been down half a dozen times to make sure, and,” K'van grinned, "it looks better every time we see it.

  “It's what we want but I don't think many people would find it so perfect."

  "That's what I mean,” Lessa went out, gesturing emphatically with one hand as if sweeping Toric's exceptions aside. "Our needs and tastes are very individual and there's so much land out there” She made another expansive gesture. "And he has the unmitigated gall to take marks " She was speechless for such presumption. "The man has tried my patience for the last time."

  "I do believe you're right, my love,” F'lar said, still grinning with malicious anticipation. "And since he isn't even on his own Hold grounds, I think we have him just where we need him. And do us a favor of becoming a lesson for anyone with similar inclinations. A lesson that will last until the end of this Pass."

 

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