The
Dragon Riders of Pern
The Fire Down Below
By
Between is always colder than I remember it. It takes my breath away every time. We came out of the awful coldness over a valley nestled in foothills. I had never been there before, but that was hardly strange.
I'm a Harper. I don't ride Dragons very often. Most Dragon Riders haven't seen all of Pern and they have Dragons available all the time.
We swooped over the hold and I realized why they didn't have a Harper stationed there full time.
Southern Mystic Hold was a hole. Literally. It seemed like someone was trying to upgrade some old mine works into a full fledged hold. Even the name was second hand.
The brown Dragon I was riding winged up to the landing ledge and made a perfect landing. He was good at flying and liked to show off.
I lowered myself off his back and said "Thanks, Mnarth."
"You're welcome." He replied. Mnarth was a gentleman.
"I can't stay long." M'Dor said. "Thread is due this afternoon."
Never mind." I replied. "Funerals are depressing anyway."
"I'll be back tomorrow to pick you up." He said grinning, "Try not to get into any trouble while I'm away."
"I never do." I said.
M'Dor laughed and remounted Mnarth. "Remember Dilek's daughter?"
"All right. Hardly ever." I replied with as much dignity as I could muster.
Even Mnarth snorted at that.
"Right, well see you tomorrow." I said.
I had to stand well back from Mnarth when he took off. The force necessary to carry him into the air could have easily swept me away. My brother's brown dragon rose to the proper height and winked out of existence.
I turned and walked into Southern Mystic Hold.
I was at the hold to officiate at a funeral. It was one of the somber duties of the Harper hall. I didn't like it, but I was a Journeyman Harper and that meant I had to do the tough jobs as well as enjoying certain perks.
I was wearing my somber dark clothing suitable for a funeral. I would say the ritual words and record the name, family, time and cause of death and they would be returned to the Harper hold and added to the archives that almost no one ever read.
I was met inside the door by a tall lanky man with the ground in dirt look that I had come to associate with the mining craft.
"You're the Harper, then?" He ground out. His voice was rough as if he'd shouted for several years.
"Yes, Sir Miner. I am Journeyman Harper Mahar." I stuck out my hand.
"Ebbdon." He said, crushing my hand. "I'm the mining master, hereabouts."
"Pleased." I grated. "Are you the holder, too?"
"Naw. Bonmott is the Holder here. I just came t'see that you were settled okay. Bonmott's in a real tail spin about this." Ebbdon said.
"Yes, the deceased was his wife, wasn't she?" I asked. I had only been given the barest outline of the situation before being rushed out here on Dragon back.
"Yeah. Lady Kedda. It was real tragedy." Ebbdon said. He sighed a deep, showy sigh. "Well, c'mon. Let's get you settled in and get this done.
"Thank you." I said.
The hold itself was the entryway to an ancient mining complex. He led me back into the side of the mountain. The hold was laid out mostly on a single level. The way the ancients mined out the mountain.
The place was dark and felt sort of oppressive. I haven't visited many mines, but when I did I have always waited for the whole thing to fall on my head. I expected a close smell, accentuated by the smell of the lamps that were scattered around on the walls. But the air was fresh and a little cold.
"The ancients built the ventilation system. We can't figure it out. It works better than anything I might come up with, but during the winter, it gets pretty cold in here." Ebbdon said.
I was shown to a room that was a partition of a long wide tunnel. The rooms were partitioned off with wooden walls and heavy cloth hangings.
"Thank you, Sir." I said, sketching a bow. "Can you tell me a little about Lady Kedda?"
"Well, ah, ya know," Ebbdon said. "She was very important to us around here. We wouldn't have been able to get the hold off the ground without her."
"Ah." I said encouragingly.
"She was a strong willed woman though. Maybe a little too head strong for her own good." The miner added
"Really?" That was one of my best answers.
"Well, ah. She was known for her strong personality, and ah, she was beautiful for a woman her age, I guess." Ebbdon shuffled and then he said, "I gotta go back to work. Someone will be by to discuss the arrangements with you." The miner walked away.
I settled my bag on the cot in the room provided for me. There was a chest in case I felt like staying a while.
I thought about what the miner said. I'd have to wander around and talk to people. Under most conditions the Harper who laid someone to rest would know the deceased person. He'd have some personal experience of them to eulogize with. I didn't have that luxury. I had to try to learn something of Lady Kedda by asking around.
Kata was the healer for the hold. Healers are also the people responsible for preparing the dead to be laid to rest. She was a short woman with a round face. She looked tired like she was carrying a heavy weight.
"She was killed when her flame thrower exploded." Kata said. "She was burned to death."
"Ugh!" I shuddered. "Terrible."
"Naturally, we'll bury her in a closed casket." Kata said.
"Of course." I added.
"There actually wasn't much left of her." Kata said.
"What was she like before?" I asked hurriedly. People tell Harpers things. Healers sometimes tell Harpers things that Harpers don't want to hear.
Kata took a deep breath. "She was the person with good sense around here." She took a deep breath. "We're going to miss her."
Something puzzled me. "What was the lady of the hold doing with a flame thrower?"
Kata looked up. "We're a small hold. After a thread fall, everyone goes out for the ground sweeps."
"No exceptions?"
"Well, small children and injured people." Kata said. "But otherwise, we all go out. Lady Kedda thought that it was important for us to take a hand in protecting our homes."
"Ah."
"Now, I don't even know if I'll have a home here." Kata sighed.
"Why would that be?" I asked.
"Well, like I said. Lady Kedda was the one with the sense around here." Kata took that moment to realize that I was actually a stranger. "Um, I really shouldn't speak out of turn. I don't expect you're interested in our little hold's gossip."
"My lady, gossip is my bread and butter." I said.
Kata smiled, but refused to say any more.
A lot of people at Southern Mystic Hold felt the same way about Lady Kedda. If I hadn't known better I would have said that she was running the hold and her husband was second to her. I didn't voice this opinion out loud. There are few things on Pern as dangerous as a holder with a wounded pride.
I went to the Smith's section. Just like Harpers, there are supposedly Smiths assigned to every hold. They repair and maintain the equipment that holds need to survive. Southern Mystic Hold did have a Smith assigned to it. They may not need much history or song there, but without tools they might as well have given up on the project. The Smith's section was easy to identify. The forge with the hot coals and bellows to force air through it are distinctive. Mind you, I wouldn't know which end of a hammer to grab, but I might just know it by sight.
There was a woman there. She was as tall as I am. She had dark straight hair that she kept tied behind. She was wearing a leather apron and her arms were bare. Her face was streaked with the black greasy dirt that Smiths seem to generate about them.
Obviously she was either an apprentice or some likely young lady that the Smith was trying to impress. She had some metallic wreckage on the table in front of her. She was peering at a piece of it intently.
"Hello." I said.
She turned and looked me up and down . "Hello. You're new here."
"Mahar. Journeyman Harper. I'm here to officiate at lady Kedda's funeral." I introduced.
She sketched a short bow. "Samma. Journeyman Smith, assigned to this hold."
"Really? I mean you're a Journeyman?" I tried to smooth out my surprise with a smile.
"A woman Smith surprises you, does it?" Samma said sardonically.
"Well, ah..." I gestured helplessly. "You don't look the part. Smiths are usually a lot bigger and rougher looking..."
Samma smirked. "I don't have to over power the metal, Harper. I usually out wit it."
"Now, why doesn't that surprise me?" I asked rhetorically. "What are you working on there?"
"Is being nosy a requisite for your Hall?" She asked.
"Yes, right after being charming." I said.
Samma took deep breath and her face darkened. "This is the flame thrower that killed Lady Kedda.
"Ah. A tragic accident." I said sorrowfully.
"Maybe not." Samma said quietly.
"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked. This was gossip indeed.
"Do you see this nozzle?" Samma held it up to me.
I looked at it. "Yes. I can see the nozzle."
Samma waited a couple of beats. "Do you see what's wrong with it?"
"No." I said honestly. "I'm not very mechanical, or I wouldn't be a Harper."
"Oh. Well look through this piece."
I looked. "I can't see very well past that disk of metal that obscures it."
"That is called a slug and it shouldn't be there." Samma said. She reached behind her for a complete flame-thrower. As far as I could tell it was not damaged. She took the nozzle off of the second flame-thrower and held them both up for me to see.
Besides being misshapen and blackened from the fire, the first nozzle had the "slug" in it and the second one, the good one didn't.
"That is what caused Lady Kedda's flame thrower to explode. That is what killed her." Samma said.
"How did it get in there?" I asked.
Samma scowled. "I don't know."
I went to see Bonmott. He was in his quarters in one of the few upper level chambers. Despite the fact that the quarters were in caves dug out of the mountain itself, Bonmott's quarters were well lit and almost airy.
He had solid furniture that must have cost plenty to ship so far. It was not flashy but seemed well made. The furniture was covered by expensive embroidered fabrics. You could tell that these were the quarters of a Holder on his way up in the world.
Bonmott himself was a short man and stocky. He was filled with the sort of catchy energy that made everyone want to jump up and get things done. He was still pale and had red rimmed eyes. He seemed to be twice as energetic attempting to recover from his wife's death. He was sitting at his desk pouring over the written records that allowed him to properly run the hold.
"Lord Bonmott, I am Mahar, the Harper. I was sent from the Harper hall this morning to officiate in your wife's funeral." I said.
Bonmott looked up. "Oh, yes. Very nice of them to send you. Very nice of you to come."
"Thank you, Sir. But I have to report that I have discovered something disturbing." I said.
Bonmott stopped short and pinned me on a gaze. "What's that?"
I felt silly saying it. "Lord Bonmott, I have reason to believe that Lady Kedda might have been murdered."
Bonmott seemed stunned. "What!?" I understood the reaction. Murder is a rare thing on Pern.
"Uh, uh.." I stammered "There was an obstruction in the nozzle of her flame-thrower. Samma says..."
"Why is Samma looking at my wife's flame thrower!?" Bonmott asked intently.
"Well, I...uh." I stammered. I really didn't want to put Samma on the spot, but it seemed like I already had.
Bonmott nodded. "Of course. I understand. She wanted to make sure that she wouldn't be blamed for the explosion, didn't she?"
"I saw it myself. There's this metal disk wedged into the nozzle." I said.
"Really? I'll have to look at it myself." Bonmott sighed. "My fault, really. I guess it's just what comes from having a woman do a man's work."
"Well, Sir, Be that as it may it doesn't eliminate the fact that the device was tampered with." I said.
"Mahar, I understand how you feel. Samma's an intriguing girl. It would be difficult to believe that she could have made a fatal mistake, especially if you had a certain sentimental reaction to her." Bonmott said expansively. "Well, now, if there was a mistake made, then the consequences will have to be borne, but I don't think that too much will happen to Samma. If it does turn out that she made a mistake, especially a mistake that cost someone her life, then the worst that I could see happening would be that Samma would have to give up her Smithy nonsense and settle down like a woman should. I assure you that I bear no ill will towards her. It's not her fault. Rather I would blame the Master Smith who let a woman into a field for which she is patently unsuited."
"Begging your pardon, Lord. I am still curious. Who would stand to gain from Lady Kedda's death?" I asked.
"No one! I have lost my lover and my partner. The Hold has lost its heart. Maybe Kedda was a little head strong. Too much of the same sort of nonsense that led Samma so far astray, but everyone around here loved her. That's why I can't believe that there was a murder, Harper. There would nothing but sadness and tragedy from such an act." Bonmott thundered.
"What can you tell me of Kedda herself?" I asked.
"Good. Let's get down to business and get this done. Now that Kedda's gone I have nothing but the Hold to keep myself busy with, and it's suffering badly from the turmoil. Let's lay my unfortunate wife to rest and get on with life. That's what she would want." Bonmott paced the room. "Where was I?"
"You were going to tell me of Lady Kedda." I reminded him.
"Oh yes. Beautiful woman. Good stock, you know. Half sister to Lord Clytas of Tillek. He's been doing well recently." Bonmott said. I could almost see the financial juggling going on in his head.
"Isn't Tillek the hold that you look to?" I asked.
"Yes. Without Clytas, I don't know where we could have gone to get this project off the ground. Now I'll have to tell him his half sister is dead. Truth to tell I've been putting it off. I don't know how he'll take it." Bonmott seemed worried.
"What happens to Southern Mystic Hold if he withdraws his support.?" I asked.
"Well, we're very close to self sufficiency now. If I can convince another Lord Holder that we're a good investment we might find ourselves looking to a different Great Hold. If not, well we'll try to scrape by. If that doesn't work, then I guess we pack up and go home. But I don't think that Clytas will pull out. Maybe it's only by marriage but we're family now. Besides he'd have to be a fool to spend so much in supporting us and then stop just before he was due to see anything in return." Bonmott said.
"Yes, Well, I'm sure that Clytas will see the wisdom of your arguments." I said, backing out of his room.
Bonmott nodded almost to himself. "Of, course he will, of course he will. Funeral tomorrow, eh, Harper?"
I bowed. "As you wish, Lord Bonmott." And I left.
I spent the next couple of hours asking around Southern Mystic Hold. I learned more about Lady Kedda. I also learned that the general opinion was that Bonmott would never have gotten a single wherry from Clytas without Kedda's support.
Many of the people who worked at the hold seemed to agree that Bonmott's reach often exceeded his grasp. Only Lady Kedda's moderating influence made their plans workable.
Illar was Lady Kedda's Personal servant. She was thin, blonde, busty and had large blue eyes. She seemed sincerely in love with Illar.
"You're here for Lady Kedda's funeral aren't you?" She asked shortly.
"Yes, Miss. I was wondering what you could tell me about Lady Kedda?" I gave her my best smile, but she missed it. She was giving herself her best smile in a large mirror. I suppose I would have found her face preferable to my own, too.
"Lady Kedda was solid." Illar said. She pronounced 'solid' as to rhyme with 'cow'. "She was...dependable. She was a very careful person." Illar made 'careful' sound like 'stodgy'.
"And how do you think the Hold will do now that she's gone?" I asked.
The woman stopped preening and looked at me. "Now Bonmott will be able to reach his true potential. No one will hold him back." She turned back to the mirror. "How do you think this will look during the funeral?"
I thought it would look needlessly flashy and decorative. As if Illar was trying to take attention away from Kedda and draw it to herself. "It's you." I said.
"Thank you." She smiled with pretty dimples.
"Ebbdon how do you think the hold will do now that Lady Kedda is gone?" I asked.
"Hmph. It's all in Bonmott's hands now, isn't it?" The Mining master of the hold grunted.
"Do you think Bonmott will do a good job with it?" I asked.
Ebbdon grunted again, a little more angrily. "We'll have to wait and see."
"I'm sorry it's just that I've heard such contradicting rumors around here that I thought I'd talk to someone who really knows what's going on." I pedaled.
Ebbdon put down his measuring tools and gave me a hard stare. "Look, punk. Do you think Bonmott's the first guy to spot this site and think there's money to be made here? I'll tell you. No, he is not. Do you think he's going to be the last? No, he is not. If Clytas had listened to me ten years ago, he'd have been pulling money out of the ground by now. If it takes another hundred years or another thousand, what's that matter to me? The mountain ain't goin' nowhere. But, I'll tell you one thing. Bonmott's got it backwards. This ain't no holding site. This here's a mining site. Now get out of here so I can do some mining before Bonmott's little scheme falls apart and I have to find me another hole to dig."
I beat a hasty retreat.
Lady Kedda's funeral was a sad and tawdry little affair. Bonmott patronized Samma, telling her he could find her a good husband after she was kicked out of her hall. Samma left the funeral without a further word. Illar strutted around in her flashy "mourning" dress.
Kata and many of the other people who worked at the hold and had thrown their lot into it with no reservation were looking sad and a little forlorn.
Ebbdon didn't even show up. Many of his miners didn't either. No doubt they thought they could get another's day work in before Bonmott over reached himself.
I didn't really have much to say about Lady Kedda herself. So I used the tried and true generic words.
"Our ancestors came to Pern from a distant place. Pern was kind to them and gave them what they needed to survive. In the end we take from Pern. Her soil feeds us. Her rock shelters us and her minerals form our tools. And yet none of this is without its balance. When life is done, we return ourselves to Pern. We become the soil, the rock and the minerals from which all of Pern's life survives."
"Lady Kedda was of Pern and to Pern she returns. She is not gone from us. Her contribution will surround us from this day forward."
Then I added the only personal line that I could. "I wish I could have met her."
With that she was laid to rest in the ground, and the funeral was over.
M'Dor and Mnarth came winging back when it was time to pick me up. Mnarth came in for one of his showy flashy landings and I went out to meet them. I was shocked to find Master Pellin scrambling down off Mnarth's back. I straightened unconsciously and my mind raced. What assignment had I forgotten? Despite the fact that I had not been Pellin's student for some time, he still commanded nervousness from me.
M'Dor quirked his eyebrows and shrugged at me.
"The Harper was summoned but does not know why." Mnarth told me.
"Thanks." I murmured to the Dragon.
"Well met, Mahar." Pellin said.
"I...I'm pleased to see you again, Master Pellin." I stammered.
"I have come here in response to a summons from this Bonmott. Tell me what you know about this." Pellin said.
"I know nothing of Bonmott's summons." I reported, "But the death of Lady Kedda had some interesting complications."
I told him of what I'd learned while I walked him into the Hold. Bonmott met the Harper Master with a big smile, as if Pellin was a long lost relative or a business partner. Bonmott escorted Pellin into his office chatting and grinning merrily. He shut the door behind them.
Pellin came out of the meeting with Bonmott with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Tell me again what you suspect of about the death of Lady Kedda."
While we walked back to M'Dor and Mnarth, I told Pellin carefully of what I'd discovered so far.
"Hmph. You know you have a friend in Lord Bonmott." Pellin said.
"Really?" I was confused.
"Yes. In fact, Bonmott has recommended you for promotion." Pellin said.
"What?" Now I was really confused. Holders did not interfere with the craft halls that way.
"In fact he had a bag of gold marks the size of your head to ah...smooth our way." Pellin was looking at me hard. "He was quite specific. He wanted you promoted away from this hold."
"That's not good." I said.
"No it's not. It means that you're on to something." Pellin said.
"What should we do?" I asked.
"I will go and spread the word that Lord Bonmott wants you out of his way. Once that is general knowledge, Bonmott won't be able to do anything to you without confirming his own guilt." The Master Harper said.
"But until then..." I didn't like the way that thought process ended.
"Until then, you should be very careful, Mahar. It would help if you could discover proof of your suspicions." Pellin said quietly.
I rolled my eyes. "I've got to try to solve the murder?"
"No, you don't really." Pellin said. "I wonder who else will champion the truth in this matter?"
"Yes, but who will champion me?" I asked. I didn't want a flame thrower exploding my hands. If Bonmott or someone else had killed once, there was no reason for them not to kill again.
"I will, Mahar, and every Harper on Pern." Pellin said.
"And I." Mnarth said.
"I'm with you, Mahar. And I have a few friends." M'Dor said, grinning broadly.
"Great. My death will be well avenged." I whined.
"Let's see if we can prevent that, shall we, Mahar?" Pellin said.
"Yes, Sir." I said.
"But, but..." Bonmott sputtered.
"Come now, Lord Holder. For this to be a proper hold, it needs a resident Harper." I said. I was grinning like and idiot and I sounded for all the world like one of those men who sell miracle cures from the backs of wagons.
"I just thought that you..." Bonmott's face was a little red.
"What other Harper knows Southern Mystic hold as well?" I smirked. Truth to tell I scared witless, but I was covering it up like mad.
"Fine." Bonmott grinned through clenched teeth. "It will be nice to have our history properly recorded."
Samma caught me in the darkened tunnel leading back to my quarters. This made me scream. Okay, so I was a little nervous.
"Calm down. What do you expect, knives in the darkness?" Samma whispered.
"I don't see Bonmott as the subtle type." I said shakily.
"Well relax. I have some good news."
"What?"
"Some children playing in the deeper areas of the mining complex have found some ancient artifacts." Samma was grinning ear to ear.
"Ancient artifacts?" I said. "And you believed them?"
"I know this kid. He's a friendly type. He wouldn't hurt a fly. You're getting too paranoid."
I took a deep breath. I was suspicious of a child being part of Bonmott's murder scheme, a scheme that I wasn't even sure existed at all. "You're right. So why did you come and get me?"
"Well, one you're a Harper and so recording what we find is your job, right?" Samma counted off on her fingers.
"Right..."
"And two, I want some one to watch my back." She grinned. It was a catchy sort of grin.
"You want me to defend you in case Bonmott wants to silence you?"
Samma rolled her eyes. "No. I'll defend you and then you can write a pretty ballad about it."
I grimaced. "You're on."
The deep parts of the mining complex showed their ancient origins. Somehow the rock was cut like cheese. The walls were perfectly smooth. There were support beams but to me they looked painfully thin and delicate. Samma said that current Smiths had no idea what those beams were made of or how to make more of them. What ever it was, the material was stronger than the strongest Smith with the sharpest saw.
"I guess you'll just have to out wit them, won't you?" I teased.
Samma just said "Hmmm" and scratched her chin thoughtfully.
"Where is this mysterious repository of the ancients?" I asked.
"Well..." Samma became silent as we passed a work crew. Ebbdon grunted at me as I passed by. We turned down a side corridor that wasn't being developed yet.
"Mikal said it just down here." Samma said.
We turned a corner and walked into dead end.
"Could it be some sort of secret door?" I asked.
"Let's look and find out." Samma started feeling the contours of the wall with her hands.
Then there was a booming noise like a dragon was trying to take off up the corridor from us and the walls shuddered. A pall of dust rose behind us.
"Uh oh." I breathed.
"Shells!" Cursed Samma.
Several hours later, it became obvious that no one was looking for us. I was banging away with a big rock on the smooth wall.
"Stop it." Samma said. "That won't do us any good."
"You're right." I was a little hysterical. "I'll just use up all the air.
They'll be able to tell when we're dead by the end of my piteous cries."
Samma quirked her eyebrow at me. "Air?"
"Yes. Air. There was only a certain amount trapped down here with us when the tunnel was collapsed. When we use that up, we're dead." I said bitterly.
"Are we?" Samma grinned.
"Of course we are. And another thing, it's getting cold down here..." I stopped. Cold? I took a deep sniff.
"I smells as fresh to me as when we came down." I said.
"The ventilation system!" Samma cried happily.
"The ventilation system!" I cried, watching Samma.
The shaft was a smooth tube about as far across as I am tall. It extended many dragon lengths to the surface in as near a perfectly straight line as I could tell.
"I would give my left arm to know how they drilled this." Samma said.
"Really?" I asked.
"No. It's just a figure of speech. Look we're in trouble." Samma said.
"How so?" I asked.
"How in the world do you expect to climb that thing? It's smooth. There are no hand holds!"
"Well there were these people I saw at a gather a couple of years ago..." I said. I described their climbing methods to Samma.
"You must be joking." She said.
"We can stay down here until you get desperate enough to try it, but by then it will be that much harder." I said.
"What if we fall?" Samma worried.
"Samma, I don't think anyone's coming to rescue us. If we die by falling or by starving to death down here, it'll suit Bonmott's purpose either way." I said.
Samma nodded.
At the bottom of the shaft Samma and I sat back to back. We linked arms, and then we put our legs against the side of the shaft. As long as we coordinated our steps we could walk up the shaft. We learned to coordinate by falling once, but fortunately we didn't get too high before that.
Our next try was successful, but I learned why acrobats have to practice so much. I was puffing and sweating by the time we got to the top of the shaft. It was dark by then.
We found the top of the shaft but then discovered a new problem. We were stuck by our mutual balance against each other. Neither one could reach the side of the shaft.
Samma came up with the solution, but it was not for the faint of heart.
We unlinked our arms and Samma grabbed my belt. Then with a curious rocking motion, Samma kicked me over to the side of the shaft. I almost didn't get a grip. Holding on with both my weight and Samma's hurt.
Fortunately for both of us I kept up my Gitar practice and my hands were fairly strong. Samma made a convincing demonstration of her own strength by climbing up me onto solid ground and then hauling me up behind her. Then we merely had to pick our way down an unfamiliar mountain in the dark...
"My Lord this is all interesting fiction, but I can hardly credit that it is being applied to me." Bonmott said. We were at Tillek hold having the matter arbitrated by the Lord Holder to whom Southern Mystic Hold was bound.
Most of the craftsmen were there. Ebbdon the Miner, Kata the Healer, Samma the Smith and myself as the Harper. Illar was there too. She hung off of Bonmott's arm but wisely said nothing.
Clytas was a blunt man with bushy brown hair that was chopped short and penetrating blue eyes.
"Do you have any evidence, Harper Mahar?" Clytas asked.
"I know it sounds hard to credit, My Lord, but I swear that this is the truth." I reached into the pocket in my cloak. I pulled out the burned and damaged nozzle of Lady Kedda's flame-thrower. I set it on the large wooden table in front of Clytas.
"I'm told that this nozzle has been tampered with in such a way as to cause it to explode. It came off of Lady Kedda's flame-thrower." I explained.
"That obstruction as caused by Samma's incompetence, not by any evil plot." Bonmott said angrily. "The young Harper is stricken with her and so lends credence to her story. It's hard to blame either one of them, but to sully my good name in front of my Lord Holder is too much!"
"What about the tunnel collapse?" Samma said.
"What about the tunnel collapse?" Ebbdon growled.
"It was awfully convenient." I said.
"An ancient tunnel left abandoned for however many turns? It wasn't trustworthy to begin with." Bonmott said. "We're just lucky that we didn't lose the two of you."
"Yeah," Samma said. "Your lucky day."
"Do you want to challenge the Smith Hall about Samma's conduct here, Bonmott?" Clytas asked.
"Well, Lord Clytas, I don't want to be confrontational, but I honestly don't think that a woman is capable of doing the work of Smith." Bonmott admitted.
"Mahar, you know you can challenge Bonmott to combat if you believe that it is necessary." Clytas said.
I am not a physical man. "I don't think that would settle anything. It's the truth I'm after, not necessarily Bonmott's blood, Lordship."
Clytas thought briefly. "Bonmott, what was the essential bargain you and I made to support Southern Mystic Hold?"
"Well, Ah Sir. I expect that we'll be hitting pay dirt soon. You should start seeing your profit by then end of the next quarter. When the crops come in next year, then I imagine that the cost of supporting the hold itself will go down dramatically." Bonmott was proud of his accomplishments.
"Our bargain was not about money." Clytas said. "It was about responsibility!"
We all looked at Clytas. He had a reputation for being out spoken. "Either you had a murder at your hold, or you had two instances of massive incompetence." Clytas pointed out. Ebbdon looked grim and angry. Samma got a little pink in her face too.
"Either way that's a failure of your management of the hold! These types of things don't happen at a well managed hold, Bonmott." Clytas said. Bonmott looked flushed but managed to keep a civil tone. "I understand Lord Holder."
"Now understand me. I trusted Kedda and Kedda trusted you. That trust is implicit in everyone who works at Southern Mystic Hold. Kedda told me that you were up to it. Was she wrong?" Clytas demanded.
"I don't believe so, Lord Holder." Bonmott said quietly.
"Then settle this. Settle it the way a trustworthy Holder would. I'm giving you a chance because I believe in Kedda's judgment. I believe in you, and I believe in Southern Mystic Hold." Clytas said. "Don't let me down, Bonmott."
"No Sir." Bonmott said.
As we left Tillek Hold Samma and I caught Bonmott and Illar giving us an angry evil stare. Kata stayed separate from us. She viewed it as a political matter and avoided it assiduously. Ebbdon just stalked out. Every second that he was here, there was a hole somewhere going undug.
The next week passed without incident. Bonmott avoided me, but was strenuously polite about it. I began to settle into the stereotypical role of a Harper in small hold. I even began classes for the few children of the hold. Mikal, the boy who told Samma of the ancient treasures in the mines was conspicuously absent. I would have sought him out and said that all was forgiven, except that it wasn't. Maybe Bonmott or Ebbdon told him that it was a joke that he was playing or something. If it had been just me, I wouldn't have a problem. I found myself getting a little defensive on the subject of Samma. I hated the thought of her getting hurt and so I stayed away from the boy.
Then a thread fall came. Thread fall from inside a hold is interesting.
We buttoned up the metal shutters in time, except for one or two left open for the guards on watch.
The hold was dark and quiet. Everyone moved around quietly subdued. It was a burden to carry knowing that somewhere above you Dragons and riders were risking life and limb. We were powerless to help except by making certain that the Weyrs got their proper tithes. If you are in a totally silent room, you can hear some of it. The dragons maneuvering at the lower altitudes make large gusts of moving air as they go. The thread hisses quietly as it settles on the stone facing of the hold and dies.
And distantly, you might hear a Dragon or Rider scream as they get hit.
Then the hissing fades and the dragon noises go away and the fall is done. Then our job starts in earnest. Everyone is dressed for stomping through field and glen. Some food and water is a good bet as well and a certain amount of numbweed and clean dressings. We run up to the entrance where Samma and a couple of assistants handed us the flame-throwers.
I waited for Samma and we got our assignments. We were sent to the fallow fields up the mountain from the hold. It was a tough climb, but necessary. A burrowing threat up there could actually surround the Hold before it was contained.
It was a little strange for two reasons. Samma and I were assigned by ourselves. And it was the most distant place where ground crews searched for thread burrows.
So we kept looking around ourselves and trying to be alert as we hiked up the path to the distant fields. Samma looked at our flame-throwers and personally assured herself that they wouldn't explode or anything.
Nothing happened. No one jumped out of the rocks shouting "Ah Hah!". We got to the field and began to move back and forth along the empty furrows, checking for burrowing thread.
It was a hot day out in the field, lugging a flame-thrower back and forth. We were both tired and sweaty when we saw three people top the rise that lead down into our small field.
I raised a hand and started walking towards them. Samma joined me.
I stopped dead when I saw that it was Bonmott, Illar and Ebbdon. My skin started to crawl. They came up to me and stopped about twice my height away. Samma arrived at my side.
"Mahar." Bonmott said. He had an evil grin.
"Bonmott." I replied. "What are you doing?"
"I'm taking care of my problems, Mahar." Bonmott said.
"What do you intend to do?" Samma asked.
"We're talking too much. Let's burn them." Illar said, raising her flame thrower.
I raised my flame thrower in response. I froze for an instant. In that instant I realized that even though I was as well armed as my three opponents I had no intention of using my flame thrower on them. I held it up anyway. Maybe they would believe my bluff.
Samma evidently reached a similar conclusion because she fired, sweeping the ground at the feet of our attackers.
Her flame thrower spit fluid at the ground in a fine mist. The torch that lit the stream of fuel on her flame thrower went out. I raised my weapon and fired right at them. I had an ugly feeling I knew what would happen.
Illar and Bonmott gasped as I drenched them in a fine spray of water from my useless flame thrower.
Bonmott snarled angrily. Illar looked pale and ill. Ebbdon raised his flame-thrower.
I shrugged out of the straps of my flame thrower. Samma had done the same a moment before, and now threw her flame thrower into Ebbdon, ruining his aim. A fully functional gout of flame roared passed my right side.
Samma and I wordlessly turned and ran. I couldn't really feel my legs. Had I wet myself? I didn't stop to worry about it at that time. I heard the whoosh and roar of the other flame-throwers.
I fairly crawled through the field. It seemed like one of those nightmares where the monster is pursuing you and you run in slow motion.
I put my whole soul into running faster. I would have worried about Samma except that she was ahead of me at the start of our sprint and pulled ahead as we ran. I could hear her screaming as we went.
Samma ran into the big rocks that bordered the field on its mountainward side. Our pursuers were between us and the road back to the Hold.
As soon as she was out of sight, Samma stopped screaming. I could barely keep up with her as she began to twist and dodge among the rocks. After an eternity we stopped. I was breathing hard, but Samma was gasping strongly. I took a few moments to coach her on breathing techniques. Any Harper knows how to breathe deeply and rhythmically in order to sing powerfully and continuously. We also discover that these techniques help with other activities. I hadn't run for my life like that before, but I knew I could regain my breath with a little difficulty. It was important. We both felt that our pursuers could find us by listening to our gasps.
I snuck a look and saw Ebbdon and Illar on top of big rocks down below us. They circled the tops of the rocks scanning for us. Where was Bonmott?
Samma looked and pointed up the hill from us. I saw Bonmott then. His shirt was dark with sweat and he was choking and gasping as hard as anyone. It dawned on me that Bonmott, Illar and Ebbdon had also spent a long hot day lugging their flame-throwers. Maybe we had a chance.
Bonmott spotted us scouting him and gave a piercing whistle. He waved and pointed us put to Ebbdon and Illar.
We ducked out of sight and scampered around the rock. We rolled under a big rock and held very still while Ebbdon hopped across the rocks over our heads.
We moved as silently as possible back down the hill. With hand gestures and whispers I told Samma that I wanted to get back to the hold. More than anything else I wanted to be around many more people. Illar and Ebbdon were no longer blocking our path back to the hold. We snuck down between the rocks as quietly as mice in a barn full of felines.
I risked a quick peek to see where our pursuers were. I got a nasty shock. They were coming down the hill in a line abreast, no doubt hoping to catch us heading back for the hold.
There was nothing else for it. All of us were equally exhausted. Samma and I weren't carrying flame throwers and that was our only advantage.
"Run!" I yelled. Samma popped up and we sped down the hill. It wasn't a direct course. We dodged among the rocks and leapt over the ones we could. I could feel my breath deep in my chest. I breathed deeply into my gut, slowly, rhythmically. It almost felt good. I began to believe that we could out run our attackers all the way across Pern if necessary.
Then I tripped. I felt something in my leg snap. I rolled the rest of the way down the hill. I could feel my face contorted. I felt sort of distant from the pain, but I couldn't straighten out my face.
Eventually I was able to open my eyes. Samma was down beside me with a deeply worried look. "How bad is it?"
"Too bad. Run." I said.
"No. I won't leave you for them to kill." Samma said.
"Someone has to know the truth! Samma you're the only one who can tell them! Please go!" I yelled.
"No." Samma was firm. She didn't outwit steel, she out-stubborned it. I hoped she wouldn't stubborn herself to death.
She lifted me up and supported me on one of her shoulders. Then we began to hobble away from our pursuers.
Behind us I could hear Illar laugh. Her laugh dissolved into coughing, but the point was made. It would be an exceptional act of strength and stamina for Samma to carry me back to Southern Mystic Hold. To do it while out racing three less encumbered murderers was asking too much.
"Samma, if you don't let me go now and run, they'll kill you, too." I gritted. Being carried with a broken leg is no fun. Being carried with a broken leg by a panicky Smith is even less fun.
"No." Samma heaved. She simply wasn't going to do it.
In my frustration I cried out. It wasn't fair! This wasn't the way things were supposed to work!
A rough hand pushed Samma down and me with her. In the middle of the field, we were defeated.
Illar was bringing up the rear while Bonmott and Ebbdon held their flame-throwers pointed at us. The implication was plain. Move or resist and they would fry us.
Then there was a rush of arctic cold and almost a solid wave of air. A large brown shape swept past us at such a rate that if I had blinked I would have missed it.
Ebbdon and Bonmott were thrown to the ground. I rolled to see Mnarth and M'Dor sweeping away in a long rising turn. M'Dor was turned to face us and I could see his grim expression.
Bonmott and Ebbdon leapt to their feet and ran back for the rocks. Illar screamed and then turned and ran.
Mnarth was speeding back for them. His mouth was open and I could see the faint light of fire down his gullet. I could feel his thoughts. Mnarth was angry. He was also a little afraid. He was afraid that the murderers would fire on him with their flame throwers. He was determined that his friends and especially M'Dor would not get hurt by the renegades.
I could feel Mnarth make the decision to kill Bonmott, Illar and Ebbdon if necessary.
I sat up, carefully working around Samma who was doing her best to cover me with her body. Mnarth made his first flame pass wide of his targets, in between them and the hills. I had no knowledge of a Dragon EVER harming a Human in that way. I was determined that my friend Mnarth would not be the first.
I took breath down to my very toes, I projected from the back of my throat and I used my mouth to form the words and guide the sounds. Just like my singing teacher taught me.
"Drop your weapons! He will kill you if you don't!" I shouted.
Bonmott, Illar and Ebbdon couldn't drop their weapons fast enough. They threw themselves to the ground and cowered.
Mnarth aborted his next flaming pass to make a tricky landing between Samma, myself and our attackers. I could feel relief take away his fear.
His anger was now uncolored as he lowered his full length to the ground parallel to the cowering renegades. Mnarth's roar was deafening. He was letting them know in no uncertain terms that one did not threaten the friends of a Dragon lightly. Illar screamed as other Dragons bugled from above. I looked and there was the rest of M'Dor and Mnarth's fighting wing in the air over us. No Dragon ever fights alone...
We were back at Tillek Hold talking with Clytas. He had just that afternoon pronounced judgment on our three attackers. Bonmott was no longer alive. He'd been beheaded within moments of the judgment. Ebbdon and Illar had gotten off lighter. They were exiled. They would roam Pern forever holdless.
"With this unpleasant business out of the way, I have one more thing to attend to." Clytas said. "I supported Southern Mystic Hold because I felt that there was a profit to be made there. I would hate to give up on it after so much time, effort and blood had been spilled in the matter. That would mean ending those people's hopes to build a home of their own too. No, ending the project now is not a good idea."
"You're going to keep us in business, My Lord?" Samma asked happily. That meant that she would stay the Master Smith for that hold. It was her only chance to be her own boss as a Smith.
"Yes, Samma. But I need one thing to keep that place alive. I need an honest man. I need someone who will manage the place with integrity."
Clytas turned towards me. "Mahar, I think you're that man. Your pursuit of the truth of the issue was nothing if not integrity."
"Thank you, My lord, but I must decline." I said. "The truth is a Harper's business, and the truth is that I'm ill suited for any other task but harping."
"I'll do it." Samma said.
Clytas looked at her, shocked. He seemed about to say something. I couldn't resist. "I would not have discovered the truth of the issue without her, My Lord. She's the type of person you need there."
Clytas looked confused for a moment and then decided. "All right, Samma, you're hired. You'll have to give up your status as a Smith."
"Perhaps," Samma breezed, "You know we're so short handed down there, now that I don't know who will replace me."
"All right, I hear you, Lady Holder." Clytas grinned.
"Thank you, Lord Holder." Samma dropped a passable curtsey at him.
Laughing Clytas said "Fine, fine, now get back to work! I want to see some profit out of that hole in the ground before the New Turn or I'll just have to find someone else!"
We left Clytas' quarters and Samma helped me down the stairs.
"You know," She said. "We could really use a full time Harper at Southern Mystic Hold."
Grinning, I answered. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
-End-
This was my one and so far only Pern Fanfic. I wrote it hoping for an exchange with the local Pern Fanclub, Telgar Weyr, for my own floundering Trek Fanzine project.
I never got the story I was hoping for but they did run this one and I am told the reaction was pretty positive.
I like it myself. Samma and Mahar are living in my Recycling bin waiting for the day when they have a spot to come out and play.
The title comes from the Bob Segar song which is odd because I hate Bob Segar.
As someone once said, "That's funny exactly once."
Disclaimer: Anne McCaffrey owns all things Pern. I claim original characters and situations in this story for me.
This story posted by permission of the author. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.
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