All the Weyrs of Pern (49 page)

“We must get him warm,” the Masterhealer said, but Sharra was already tucking furs about the lax body. “His body has had a dreadful shock. Who did this?”

“We’ll find out who’s behind all this. The abductors were nearly to the beach,” Jaxom said. “A ship was waiting to take him who knows where.”

“We’ll have the answer to that, too,” N’ton said in a grating tone. “Master Robinton will recover, won’t he, Oldive?”

“He must,” Sharra said fervently, kneeling beside the bed. “He must!”

18

I
T WAS FORTUNATE
for the conspirators that Master Robinton recovered from the overdose of fellis and suffered only bruises from that wild cross-country journey. Until he was certain that Zair, too, would recover, he was not disposed to charity, but then he started murmuring about no real harm having been done.

“They have been grossly misguided,” he began.

“Misguided!”
Lytol, D’ram, F’lar, Jaxom, Piemur, Menolly, and Sebell chorused in outrage.

“The very idea that they intended to abduct you”—Lessa’s expression was so fierce that Robinton regarded her with widened eyes and open mouth—“to force
us
to destroy Aivas . . . bloody nearly
killing
you and Zair! And you call them misguided?”

“I’ve another name for it entirely,” Lord Groghe said, his face flushed with anger. “I’m certain that almost every other Lord Holder will come to the same conclusion after hearing the confessions we’ve heard. Norist has never made any bones about his disagreement, but for Sigomal to actively assist him! Norist may call Aivas the Abomination, but it is
he
and Sigomal who have acted abominably! Infamously!”

“The masters will deal with Norist now,” Sebell said implacably. Master Oldive was in complete agreement.

A special convocation of both the Lord Holders and the Mastercraftsmen was hastily called for that next evening. Together the two groups would hear the evidence against the scofflaws, although they would deliberate on their verdict separately, meting out justice as each group saw fit.

“These sessions are rare in Pernese Records,” Lytol said, trying to find precedents in now-legible Ruatha Hold records.

“They’ve rarely been required,” Lord Groghe remarked with a snort. “By and large, Hold, Hall, and Weyr have regulated their own members with few grievances spilling over. Everyone knows what is expected of them, what rights, privileges, and responsibilities are due or required.”

“It is such a pity,” Robinton said, his voice still reflecting his exhaustion, “that they should take such a perverse view.”

“Especially when they’ve had no scruples about using the things which Avias helps us produce,” Lytol said in outrage.

“There may be some justification for their attitude,” Robinton began again.

“There’s no talking to the man,” Menolly said, disgusted. “He must still be very tired to come out with twaddle like that!” She gestured for Robinton’s visitors to leave.

“It’s not twaddle, Menolly,” Robinton replied testily, restlessly thrashing about in the bed where Oldive had insisted he remain. Zair, curled up comfortably in the furs by the Harper’s feet and looking considerably more bronze than tan, chirped a protest. “We harpers failed somehow . . .”

“Failed nothing!” Menolly said, furious. “Those misbegotten idiots nearly killed you . . . and Zair . . .” She caught Robbinton’s scowl. “Hah! At least you care about
him,
even if you don’t give two hoots and a holler about your own skin. Out, everyone. Robinton must rest if he’s to be fit for the Council.”

With so much excitement charging the air, few had left Ruatha’s Gather site when the dragonriders returned with Robinton and his captors. The riders had then been forced to protect the nine men from being torn to pieces by the incensed crowd. Jaxom had them interned separately in some of the small, dark inner rooms of the Hold, supplying them with only water and dim glowbaskets. The little drudge who had served the Harper the drugged food was found, and although she was plainly of very limited understanding, she was also placed in confinement.

The ship’s captain, it turned out, was one of Sigomal’s sons, which strongly suggested the Bitran Holder’s involvement. It was remarkable, N’ton commented, how willing a man became to talk after he had been dangled awhile in midair from a dragon’s forearm.

When a wing of Benden dragonriders had appeared at Bitra Hold, Sigomal loudly and indignantly denied any involvement with such a dreadful, contemptible business; he had bitterly denounced a son who would bring so much dishonor to his sire and his Hold.

F’lar admitted later that he had come very close to smashing Sigomal’s lying mouth—only Mnementh had saved the man. The big bronze dragon had been so incensed by his rider’s anger that a little curl of flame had escaped his lips, which had had the immediate effect of silencing Sigomal.

G’narish of Igen Weyr and his bronze riders took into custody Master Norist, five of his masters, and nine journeymen, all of whom had been implicated. By then the abduction cart, and the abused runners, had been brought back to Ruatha. Two would have to be put down. To compound the offense, they had been stolen out of a Ruathan paddock. While the Ruathan beastmaster attended to the poor creatures, the woodsmith and Master Fandarel inspected the vehicle that had been used to carry Robinton away. Bendarek found the maker’s name on the footrest: Tosikin, a journeyman joiner in Bitra.

“Purpose-made,” Fardarel murmured.

“No question of it,” Bendarek replied, “with this sunken load bed, padded and long enough to accommodate a tall man like Master Robinton. Look at this lock top, these extra springs, heavy-duty axle, and larger, reinforced wheels. It was made to be used for fast, hard going.” Then Bendarek scowled, noticing a poorly mitered edge and nails that had been badly sunk. “And for the one use. Man shouldn’t have put his name to such a shoddily made contraption.”

“Shall we have him here to speak his piece?” Fandarel asked, his dark eyes sparking as he rubbed his big hands together.

“Might as well. I wouldn’t trust Sigomal not to slip out of this if he possibly can.”

“I doubt he will this time,” Fandarel said somberly.

The original intention had been to hold the extraordinary convocation in Ruatha’s Great Hall. So many people flocked to the Hold, adding to all those Gatherers who had stayed over, that Jaxom, after conferring with Groghe, Lytol, D’ram, and F’lar, transferred the proceedings to the outside court. The weather, while crisp with autumn, remained clear, and by using the dance-square light standards, the court would be brilliantly illuminated if the matter took time. Dragons massed on the fireheights, their eyes glowing with vivid whirling color, added a bizarre display accented by the fairs of fire-lizards whipping restlessly about.

When Lord Begamon sent word that he could not attend, F’lar despatched F’nor and two wings to see that he did, for the Neratian was also implicated. The drudge, however, was excused. Sharra, Lessa, and Menolly had talked with her, kindly enough when they realized how simple she was. She had been told by a man in “beautiful new clothes” to be sure to feed the Master Harper well from special provisions that had been brought a great distance, just for him. She had been shown the wineskins that were reserved only for Master Robinton, and she had also been instructed to feed the fire-lizard only meat from a special bowl.

“Clearly she didn’t know she was doing wrong,” Lessa said after the interview. Then her expression hardened. “Appalling of them to make use of a simple child like that.”

“Clever, too,” Menolly said, with a grim twitch of her lips. “Zair would have sensed an open threat to Robinton, so they
had
to use an innocent pawn.”

“Clever, but not clever enough, Menolly,” Jaxom said. “Where does she come from?”

“A hold near a big mountain,” Sharra said, sighing. “And she was so excited to be allowed to come to a Gather and serve someone as pleasant as the man in blue. I’ll keep her here. She’ll be safe from misuse at Ruatha. The cook says she’s very good with the spit animals.”

As soon as Lord Corman arrived that evening, he stomped up to Jaxom, who was standing with Groghe, Ranrel, Asgenar, and Larad.

“I don’t agree with what you are doing to Pern. I don’t like to see so many of our traditional ways and values flouted by what that—that machine is teaching you, but what you others do is your business. What I refuse to do is mine!”

Larad nodded solemnly. “Which is your prerogative.”

“Just so that my position is understood,” Corman said, his brows running together in a fierce scowl.

“No one doubts your integrity, Lord Corman,” Jaxom said.

Corman raised his eyebrows, seemed about to take umbrage at the youngest Holder’s comment, then reconsidered and, scowling once more, allowed Brand to lead him to a chair.

A dais had been hastily constructed in the shape of a flat-bottomed V: one side provided for the Lord Holders and the other for the Craftmasters. In the center Jaxom, as resident Lord Holder, would be seated, with Lytol on one side and D’ram on the other. Robinton would sit just below them, facing the accused, who would be accommodated on benches in the space between the wings. Lytol had tried to find an impartial spokesman to represent the accused, following the legal practices about which he had been reading in Aivas’s historical files. Harpers generally performed such services but as no harper could be truthfully called “impartial” in this case and no one else could be found to perform that function, it was decided that the accused would have to speak for themselves—if Piemur had remarked, there could be anything that would mitigate their offense since their guilt was already proved.

Promptly at the appointed hour, the accused were brought to the court, where they were jeered at and reviled by the huge throng, comprising representatives from all parts of Pern. It took some time to restore order, but at last all involved were seated and Lord Holders and Master Craftsmen took their places.

Jaxom rose, holding up his arms for silence. Then he spoke.

“Last evening Master Robinton was drugged and taken from the Gather without his consent and knowledge. A dead man who has not been identified was left in his place, wearing similar clothing. So there are two crimes which must be answered tonight: abduction and murder.

“These three men—” Jaxom pointed to each of them, holding his hand up to still the angry murmur from the crowd. “—drove the vehicle which transported Master Robinton without his knowledge or consent. These six men—” Again Jaxom pointed. “—were aboard the ship awaiting them, to take Master Robinton to a place of concealment without his knowledge or consent. I now read their statements, taken in the presence of a Harper, myself as Lord Holder, and Master Fandarel, representing the crafthalls.”

Each statement began with the name and origin of the man involved and summarized the job he had been hired to do. Lord Sigomal and Master Norist were named as those who had given the orders and supplied both marks and equipment. The Glassmasters and journeymen also assembled had delivered messages to those involved and passed payments on. Master Idarolan produced a bill of sale for the ship, signed by one Federen, Masterglass-smith, now seated among the accused. It turned out that he had also led the initial attack on the batteries supplying Aivas, and he was the older brother of one of the men involved in the assault that Aivas had foiled. He was very bitter about his brother’s punishment and deafness. Lord Begamon, too, was implicated: he was accused of supplying marks, the horses used on the abortive assault on Aivas, and a safe harbor for the ship.

Journeyman Tosikin, a meek and obsequious fellow plainly awed and terrified by the experience, pointed to Gomalsi, Lord Sigomal’s son and the captain of the ship, as the man who had commissioned the strange cart. The journeyman had had no idea of its purpose and had tried to argue them into a different sort of vehicle to carry a “delicate cargo.” No, he had not known that a man was to be the cargo.

Brestolli had asked to be allowed to speak of what he had overheard. He further provided a positive identification of three of the Bitrans from the ship as those he had overheard in the brewer’s. That caused a surge of consternation and recriminations among the accused.

“You will each be allowed to speak in your own defense and inform this panel of any mitigating circumstances,” Jaxom said, pointing first to the three men who had absconded with Robinton. But before any of them could speak, Lord Sigomal got to his feet, suddenly rousing from his apathy.

“I am innocent, innocent, I tell you! My son has been misguided, led astray by bad companions whom I pleaded with him to give up, little knowing what they were involved in—”

“I protest!” Gomalsi shouted, jumping to his feet, eyes blazing at his father. “You
told
me to do what I could to discredit that machine. You
told
me to destroy the batteries—and where to look for them. You
gave
me money to hire men—”

“You fool! You imbecile!” Sigomal shrieked back, stepping forward and clouting Gomalsi so hard across the face that the young man fell backward over the bench.

Immediately Jaxom signaled for guards to force Sigomal back to his place and to help Gomalsi.

“Any more outbursts, and Lord Holder or not, you’ll be gagged,” Jaxom said sternly to Sigomal. He motioned for the guards to remain behind the two Bitrans. Then he pointed at the first of the three actual abductors. “You may speak in your defense. First tell your name and your rank.”

There was a soundless conference, and then the oldest of the three stood.

“My name is Halefor. I have no rank, nor hold, nor craft. I hire my services to whoever pays enough. This time it was Lord Sigomal. The three of us struck a price with him and were paid half in advance to take the Harper in the cart to the ship. That was all we was hired to do. Not to kill. That was an accident. Biswy had to drink some of the wine, so the fumes would be on him. But he was not meant to die from it. Nor did we wish any harm to Master Robinton. I didn’t much like that part, but Lord Sigomal said it had to be him because he was so well liked. They’d smash the machine to get Master Robinton back.” He looked all about, first at the Lord Holders and then at the Mastercraftsmen, gave a sharp nod of his head, and sat down.

From the men who were Gomalsi’s crew came much the same story: They had been hired to do a job, to man a ship from Ruatha to an island off the eastern shore of Nerat. Lord Begamon groaned at that and hid his head in his hands. He continued to moan off and on through the rest of the proceedings. When asked harshly by Master Idarolan if any of them were either apprentices or journeymen, two replied that they had sailed a few seasons in fishing fleets but hadn’t much cared for the long hours. Master Idarolan looked relieved that no craftsman of his had been involved.