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Authors: Anne McCaffrey

BOOK: Dragon's Kin
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“One more time through ‘The Morning Dragon Song’ and then we’ll go through the whole lot,” Zist said to him. He held up a restraining hand as Kindan swallowed a lungful of air. “No! Not like that, lad. Remember what I told you.” Zist placed his hands on his own sides and pressed them into his diaphragm. “From down here. Breathe up and down, not in and out.”

         

The wind tore through the Camp’s main square as Kindan accompanied Master Zist down to the wedding platform. Both were dressed in their best clothes, Master Zist looking completely regal in his Harper blue. Kindan tried not to think too hard about how he looked, fearing that the rest of the Camp’s kids would fill him in painfully on his appearance in many future encounters.

Master Zist must have guessed how Kindan felt for he chose that moment to say, “You look great, lad.”

Traditionally, the marriage ceremony was performed in the morning, timed so that as the couple completed their marriage vows, the sun would rise, signifying the warmth of the new relationship and how it would lighten not only the bride and groom but also all those associated with them.

However, such a ceremony would mean that Dask could not attend. So Jofri had come up with the idea of performing the ceremony with the setting sun, instead, and lighting a bonfire as the final vows were made. Master Zist had seen no reason to contradict that.

Everyone in the Camp was gathered in the main square. The dining tables had been pushed to the edges of the square, while the benches had been arranged in rows in front of the wedding platform, which would be used after the ceremony by the musicians.

Kindan could smell fresh-cut branches of pine piled on the unlit bonfire. The wind died down as the sun continued its downward arc in the sky.

It was time.

Master Zist, holding Kindan’s shoulder, guided him to his place on the platform. Kindan sketched a quick grin to Zenor, who was dressed in similar finery and stood on the opposite end of the platform. Seated next to Zenor was Journeyman Jofri, with his drums in front of him and his guitar placed beside him within easy reach. Master Zist moved slightly away from Kindan to stand next to his own pipes and guitar; Kindan guessed that Jofri must have set them up for the Master.

At a nod from Master Zist, Jofri began a long flourish on the drums. The people in their seats grew quiet. Out of the corner of his eye, Kindan could see his father and a radiant girl dressed in a marvelous gown standing at the back of the benches. Kindan realized with a start that the girl was Silstra!

Jofri changed his beat and the sound of Master Zist’s pipes joined in. Everyone stood as Danil led Silstra down the aisle. At the same time someone lit the long row of torches that had been placed on either end of the benches.

A beam of light burst out from the sky above Silstra and followed her as she made her way down the aisle.

“Kindan, what is that?” Zist hissed in between his piping.

“That’s Dask,” Kindan said proudly. “He must be flying with a glow in his claws.”

“Even as I see it, I can scarcely believe it,” Zist whispered in awe. “Truly amazing.”

Indeed, above the pipes, Kindan could hear the watch-wher’s chirping voice in counterpoint to Master Zist’s melody.

Zist’s pipes stopped when Silstra reached her place on the platform, facing the audience.

Jofri began a different, more martial drum sequence and Terregar, resplendent in his craft’s colors, started his walk up the aisle, accompanied by Journeyman Veran, the trader in charge of the caravan.

Again, Dask flew overhead, illuminating the groom from above as he had the bride.

Terregar’s assumption of his position beside Silstra on the wedding platform was the signal for Kindan and Zenor to start their duet. Jofri introduced them with a flourish and Kindan started to sing only to realize that Zenor had not joined in.

Kindan looked frantically at his friend but saw that Zenor’s eyes were skyward, watching Dask as he hovered over the wedding platform.

Kindan strengthened his volume to cover Zenor’s lack until Jofri tapped Zenor on the shoulder. With a horrified look of apology at Silstra and Terregar, Zenor joined in singing the song with Kindan. A titter ran through the watching crowd.

After they had completed their song, Master Zist stepped to the center of the platform and started the ceremony. Kindan had seen three other weddings in his life, but he’d never participated in one before. He listened carefully to the words Master Zist used to ask Silstra if she would have Terregar as her husband and to ask Terregar if he would have her as his wife. Then Master Zist spoke of the changes that each had agreed to, and the joy that their union brought those gathered here and his hope that their union would bring joy to all of Pern.

“For now that these two are one, we are all more,” Master Zist intoned. He placed Silstra’s hand in Terregar’s and kissed each lightly on the cheek. “To Terregar and Silstra!”

The crowd stood up and roared back: “Terregar and Silstra!”

“Long life and happiness!” Master Zist intoned.

“Long life and happiness!” the crowd roared back.

Master Zist stepped back from the married couple. He waited until the shouting had died down and then nodded to Kindan.

Kindan started his solo.

“In early morning light I see,
A distant dragon come to me.”

But as he sang, he heard a strange echo. He tried not to look around and merely concentrate on his singing, but his expression must have been noticed by Master Zist, because the Harper surreptitiously pointed skyward—Dask was singing along! Kindan broke into a grin as he continued his song, working in Dask’s counterpoint to the beat of the music and the spacing of the words. He finished with the opening refrain again:

“In early morning light I see,
A distant dragon come to me.”

Kindan let his voice fade softly away. As his voice died out, Dask uttered one final, satisfied chirp.

A huge hand grasped Kindan’s shoulder and Master Zist told him, “Well done, Kindan. Well done.”

And then Silstra was hugging and kissing him, tears of joy streaming from her eyes. “You were wonderful, thank you!” Terregar shook his hand and clapped him on the back, and then the bride and groom marched back down the aisle. Veran gave Terregar a torch, and the two ceremonially lit the wedding bonfire, bringing the light of their union to the mining camp.

At that, the partying started. Master Zist and Journeyman Jofri started with a reel. Kindan had never heard a fiddle played before, but he found that its pleasant tones could be very lively.

As he leapt off the wedding platform, he was accosted by Kaylek. “Dad says that you’re to change into everyday clothes now.”

Kindan set off immediately for their cottage, where he changed quickly. On his way back, he spotted a girl about his own age standing beside a tree, listening to the music. Kindan had never seen her before, so he guessed that she was one of the trader girls.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, at peace with the world. “There’ll be dancing as soon as the platform’s cleared off.”

“Dancing?” the girl repeated. “I don’t dance.”

“A trader that doesn’t dance?” Kindan asked. “I could see a miner’s daughter, maybe, but not a trader. Or are you afraid of the dance platform?”

“I’ve never been on one before,” the girl admitted.

“I’m supposed to clear it off,” Kindan told her, and started on his way with a wave of his hand.

“Wait!” the girl called. Kindan stopped. “Could you bring me down to the party?”

Kindan turned back and looked at her.

“I’m a bit shy,” she offered hastily by way of explanation. She held out her hand to him. “If you could hold my hand—”

Kindan started to say no, but she raised the palm of her hand to stop him.

“Just until we get there,” she said. She drew a deep breath and a hungry look crossed her face. “The food smells so good!”

“Well, okay,” Kindan agreed. He took her hand and she stood up beside him. “I’m Kindan, by the way.”

“I kn—I’m Nuella,” she said.

“You know?” Kindan repeated. As they approached the torchlit square he got a better look at the girl. “I’ve seen you before! You were with the Harper in the mine! You’re lucky Natalon didn’t catch you, or you would’ve been in a lot of trouble.”

Nuella nodded and made a face. “I know,” she said. “And I’m afraid he might have heard about it,” she added hastily, “so if you could keep me away from him—I’ve never seen him, you know—I’d appreciate it.”

Kindan thought for a moment as they continued their way down to the square. He realized that he probably didn’t want to be seen by Miner Natalon, either, just to avoid being sent on an errand or given a chore. Come to think of it, if he could avoid anyone who might put him to work, that’d be just fine with him.

“All right,” he agreed. “After we get our food, I know of a nice quiet spot where we shouldn’t be seen.”

Nuella giggled and said, “That sounds perfect.”

The giggle sounded oddly familiar to Kindan.

Nuella asked Kindan to explain all the dishes set out on the buffet table. “You’ve never had tuber before?” Kindan asked. “Surely you must have.”

“Oh,” Nuella responded glibly, “I’ve had it before, but I don’t think I’ve seen it prepared like this.”

“Huh,” Kindan muttered, surprised that someone had never had mashed tubers before. Shards, if it weren’t for the fact that they were still warm, he would have avoided them in favor of something tastier himself.

They got their food and Kindan guided her to his special hiding spot. But it was occupied already.

“What are
you
doing here?” Zenor demanded when he saw them.

“Hiding,” Kindan replied. “Just like you.” He gestured toward Nuella. “Zenor, this is Nuella.”

“I know,” Zenor replied sourly, moving over to make room for them.

“We’ve already met,” Nuella explained. She started to set her cup down beside her, but it spilled. “Oh, dear! Kindan, could you get me another cup, please?”

Kindan was reluctant to leave—his food was still warm—but Nuella had asked so nicely that, with a shrug, he found himself saying, “Sure.” To Zenor he added, “Be right back.”

         

Zenor waited until Kindan was out of sight before he turned to Nuella. “Are you mad?”

Nuella turned quickly to Zenor. “He thinks I’m one of the traders.”

“You weren’t where you said you’d be when I came by,” he said.

Nuella nodded. “I met Kindan while I was waiting for you. Anyway, what took you so long?”

Zenor shrugged. “I had to help set up the dance platform.”

“Kindan was talking about dancing later,” Nuella confided with a hint of wistfulness.

Zenor gave her a look of surprise and then said, “What are you going to do?”

“Well, I can’t dance,” she admitted. “Maybe I’ll get tired or something.”

“Anyway, if you tried, someone might see you and Dalor together and figure out that you were twins,” Zenor said.

“They might not,” Nuella argued. “We’re not identical twins, we look different.”

“Not that much,” Zenor said. “You’ve both got blond hair and blue eyes. You look enough like him that you could take his place.”

Nuella brightened. “Maybe that’s it! I could switch with Dalor!”

“I don’t think Kindan would want to dance with Dalor,” Zenor said, laughing.

Nuella’s expression deflated. “Oh,” she said, “you’re right.

“Still,” she said after a moment, “he thought I was a trader girl. Maybe . . .”

Zenor was upset. “He’s my friend. I don’t want to lie to him,” he said miserably.

“I wouldn’t ask you to lie,” Nuella said. “But he doesn’t know—”

“And you don’t want anyone to know,” Zenor finished, having heard her views on this topic many times.

Nuella flushed. “It’s not me, it’s Father. He’s afraid—”

“He’s wrong, you know,” Zenor said heatedly. “And what’s worse, there’s no way you can keep hidden all the time—”

“I’ve done well enough so far,” Nuella retorted.


I
found you, didn’t I?” Zenor shot back.

“Actually,” she corrected, “I found you.”

“Still, you’ve been here less than six months now—”

“As have we all—”

“And I’ve already found out,” Zenor finished. “How long do you think it’ll be before someone else figures it out? A month? A sevenday?”

Nuella frowned. “It’s just until Father proves the mine—”

“Shh! He’s coming back,” Zenor warned.

Nuella tentatively reached out to Zenor, grabbed his hand, and gave it a thankful squeeze.

“You know,” he told her softly, “I could teach you to dance.”

“Not tonight,” she answered, her voice just as quiet. “But I’d like that, Zenor.” She paused and added, “You’re my best friend.”

Zenor smiled in the darkness.

         

The food was mostly gone when Kindan went for his fourth helping. He must have been tired, because he didn’t notice Kaylek until his older brother had grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.

“What are you still doing up?” Kaylek growled. “I thought I sent you younger lot to bed ages back.”

“Just going now,” Kindan lied, squirming away from his brother’s grip. He could feel Kaylek’s eyes boring into his back as he left, so he had no choice but to take the path that led from the camp’s square uphill to their cottage.

His legs protested as he negotiated the gentle slope, and by the time he reached the cottage, he was all ready to climb into bed. He pulled some blankets over himself and was asleep before he could turn over.

He awoke early the next morning, shivering with cold. He quickly discovered why—his brother Jakris was in the bed next to him and had pulled all the blankets over himself. Kindan briefly tried to pull his share of the blankets back before he blearily remembered that Silstra would be leaving that morning.

He heaved himself out of bed and put on a set of workday clothes before he made his way into the kitchen. The fire was out and the room was cold. Silstra was normally the first up in the morning and laid the fire and got some oatmeal simmering in a pot and
klah
brewing beside it.

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