Anne McCaffrey - Dragondrums

“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 Kimi 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.”