The Skies of Pern (15 page)

“Actually,” Lessa said in a cold voice, “the Charter does not cite water in the list of rights.”

“But it has to!”

Haligon and the guard hauled him out of the room and they heard him demanding water as the door closed. Lessa gave a shudder of distaste. Master Crivellan continued to stare fixedly at the Benden Weyrleader.

“Crivellan,” N’ton said, touching the Healer’s arm, “F’lar only threatened the man, no more. You know that dragons won’t hurt a human.”

“The threat is usually sufficient,” F’lar remarked, resuming his seat, “but the culprit has to believe the threat will be carried out. Batim would have ignored any physical coercion—apart from a one-way trip a-dragonback. So we put him off balance.” He grinned at Lessa. “And elicited some interesting reactions.”

“Oh!” was the Healer’s relieved response. “My pardon for doubting your methods.”

“Considering what harm the man did your Craft, you are remarkably forbearing,” Lessa said, dropping her pose of indolence.

“I am dedicated to saving life, Weyrwoman,” Crivellan replied with great dignity, “not taking it.”

“And learning all you can from Aivas to improve your skills. Whereas the Abominators seem to want to stop progress in its
tracks,” she replied coldly. “We found out as much from what he didn’t say, though the thought of trying to trace him in Keroon, where the hill folk won’t even discuss the weather, is daunting.” She caught Sebell’s eye and held it.

“Shall we enlist Lord Kashman’s help?” Jaxom asked. “I know he’s new in his Holding but, if his people are in any way involved, he should be consulted.”

Sebell cleared his throat. “None claimed Keroon as their hold.”

“Did we expect them to?” Lessa asked scornfully.

“Did
you
learn anything else from Batim, Lessa?” F’lar asked.

His weyrmate gave a fastidious shudder. “Only what was foremost on his mind—denying where he came from. He reacted more strongly to ‘Keroon’ than anywhere else,” she said, giving him a trenchant glare. “He was very annoyed that they’d been caught and was steeling himself against the abominations that would be practiced on him to make him speak.”

“The very idea!” Master Crivellan was appalled.

“Someone like Batim would probably enjoy being tortured,” Jaxom remarked.

“Jaxom!” Sharra exclaimed.

“He’s right, you know,” Lessa said. “Don’t deny that you would have liked to help, considering how distressed Master Oldive was.”

“Then
I would have,” Sharra replied candidly, “not now. I’m sorry they don’t know better.”

“They’re a grudging lot,” Jaxom reminded her. “Look how that woman reacted when Oldive offered to treat her and went to the trouble of explaining that he would be using traditional materials! She didn’t want to hear the truth. Is it possible that we,” he asked, indicating all the leaders, “have not taken into consideration how hold and hall will receive Aivas’s innovations?”

Sebell cleared his throat. “We do hear things now and then that suggest that some people are dubious about ‘progress.’ Often because they doubt they’ll ever be able to afford it.”

“Or don’t fully understand the benefits?” Lessa asked, thinking of her own quarters, warmed by an Aivas improvement. Cold seeped through the stone floor under the table and chilled her feet halfway up her shins.

“It’ll take more than the few Turns we’ve had since Aivas died to explain to all who need to know,” Sebell said.

“For that matter,” Groghe remarked, “I’ve a significant number of small holders who won’t believe dragonriders diverted the Red Star, because Thread is still falling.”

“Some will never understand,” Jaxom said wearily.

“We certainly make it as clear and to as many holds as possible,” Sebell said, trying not to sound defensive. The burden of explanation was the Harper Hall’s responsibility. “But the understanding of some is limited.”

“And those are happy to believe easy lies rather than complicated truths,” Jaxom said, shifting in his chair. “Most of my Hold has at least had basic lessons but even so, we are constantly having to dispel misconceptions.”

Groghe brought both hands down on the arms of his chair. “That is not the question tonight. We have to decide what to do with this lot and, if at all possible,” he added, nodding toward Sebell, “find out who planned such widespread raids. There had to be a central person or persons for so many to have acted as simultaneously as they did.”

“And see what can be done to prevent any more,” Jaxom said.

“Possibly we can find out more from the Keroonian,” Sebell said, checking the pile of notes in front of him. “Tawer, by name. He’s a tanner, judging by the calluses and dye stains on his hands.”

“He could be a hide-binder, a bookbinder,” Lessa muttered, “badly done as it was.”

“Is Tawer the one who lost his family to fever?” Crivellan asked. “Our healer hall at Wide Bay keeps meticulous records.”

“Good point,” Sebell said. “I’ll also find out what Tagetarl does with blurred or damaged pages.”

“Unless Wide Bay healer hall is missing some of their medical texts,” Sharra added.

“Yes, we must find out where and who issued that filth,” Crivellan urged.

“I doubt we will,” Sebell said. “But, if you’ll pass the word of such things to your healers, we’ll have harpers keep their eyes open. Runners, too.” He glanced at Haligon, who nodded. Then he began to tick off more points on his fingers. “Right now we’ve
enough to make some discreet inquiries in Keroon, trace the Crom runnerbeasts, see if anyone else saw them on the way here, or perhaps crossing Telgar and Keroon, find out where they got the fabric for their clothing, and pass around sketches of Batim, Scalp, and Itch.”

“And suggest that all Halls keep guard at night,” F’lar said.

“You’re within your rights, Groghe,” Jaxom said, pausing to smile ironically, “to keep them as long as they might be needed.”

“Needed?” Groghe was offended. “I’ll have them out of my Hold as soon as possible.” Scowling, he glanced around the table, assessing all. “I know what I
want
to do with them. What I firmly believe should be done with all these dissenting Abominators.” He brought his fist down again on the table. “Exile ’em!”

Crivellan jumped at the crack of fist on wood. “I thought that required a trial and jury,” he said, surprised.

Groghe gestured to include those present. “Masters, Weyrleaders, and Lord Holders. Adequate judges. The vandals were caught in the act. Plenty of people saw what they did. Destroyed valuable property, depriving others of medicines and services. And not just in Fort.” He waved an encompassing arm. He focused narrowed eyes on the irresolute Healer. “Ordinarily, I’d send them to the mines. However, the notion of being exiled might make others think twice. I wouldn’t want anyone to think the healer halls can be attacked with impunity. Right, Master Crivellan?”

“Yes,” the man admitted hesitantly. “It will be hard enough to replace what was spoiled and broken today. Though stopping
that
sort of travesty,” he added, pointing to the pamphlet, “is even more important!”

“I thought you’d see it our way,” Groghe said. “We’ll proceed accordingly.”

Sebell rose. “I shall have many messages for Kimi.”

“Meer and Talla can help if you wish,” Sharra offered.

“Tris, too,” N’ton said. He got to his feet, stretching stiffly.

“You know, exile is a just punishment for them,” Lessa remarked. “They can’t escape it or each other. Don’t make it a large island, will you, N’ton.” She took F’lar’s hand to get to her feet and retrieved her heavy fur-lined riding jacket from the back of
her chair. “We shall all keep our ears and eyes open during Fall two days from now.”

“How soon can you get any information from the Runners, Haligon?” F’lar asked.

Haligon shrugged. “They’ve first to spread the word. When I explained the matter to Torlo at the Fort Station, he wrote messages for every pouch being forwarded.”

“Pern has relied on the Runners for much,” F’lar stated.

“It always will,” Lessa added on her way to the door.

Sharra wondered if she was the only one to see Haligon’s delighted reaction to Lessa’s reassurance. She was as eager to get home as Lessa. It had been a very long and trying day.

“We’ll sort this out,” Groghe said at his heartiest. “Thank you one and all for assistance in this vexing matter. Let’s hope the new Turn improves from here on out!”

“I’ll second that!” Jaxom replied fervently.

“We’ve no word from Crom yet,” Torlo said the moment Haligon walked into the Runner Station. Torlo had just finished dispatching the day’s runners, laden with Crafthall messages, resulting from a very busy Turnover. “Hard frost makes a hard trace.”

“Weyr, Hold, and Hall are indebted to you, Torlo,” Haligon said courteously, wondering now why he had proffered services last night that he might not be able to secure. Runners had unassailable ethics.

“No more than our duty to trace letters,” the old man replied with a careless flick of his hand, “especially after all that dirty business at the Healer Hall.” Then he cast a shrewd look at his early morning guest. “Too early, too, for you to be looking for Tenna, bearing in mind you should know by now how long it takes her to make a run back. You got to spend most of Turnover with her.”

Haligon cleared his throat, not sure how to state his real business of the morning.

“Oh? Something else, is it?” Torlo, who was a perceptive man
under a brusque manner, pointed to the corner of the empty hall of the Runner Station. “Fresh klah, Lord Haligon?”

Maybe this should have been done more informally, but Torlo had called the tone by using his title. Hiding his chagrin, Haligon accepted the hospitality and slid onto a settle seat at the end table while Torlo filled cups and brought a breadboard with some of the morning’s bake on it. Everyone would have known about the meeting in the Hold’s private dining room. That Batim had been questioned. Certainly the fire-lizard traffic out of the Harper Hall last night would have been noticed. The Runners had never objected—in so many words—to fire-lizards carrying messages. They appreciated that speed could be a critical factor that had not, yet, interfered with their craft. In the very early days, while clutches were still being found on the beaches of Boll, Ista, and Keroon, Runners had used fire-lizards, too.

The young Lord sipped the klah—it was always excellent here—and deliberated exactly how to approach Torlo. He had several very good reasons for not antagonizing either the man or the Runners and for carrying out last night’s request, not the least of which was his firm regard, although his brother called it an obsession, for Tenna.

“The Abominator who led the vandals let drop some information,” he began, choosing his words carefully.

“He’s one of
them
?” Torlo’s contempt was deep. “Same as who abused Master Robinton?”

“Similar but this time turning their spite on the Healer and Glass Halls.”

“Glass Halls, too?” Torlo’s spiky brows shot up on his lined forehead, his deep-set eyes fast on Haligon’s face. He leaned forward slightly across the tables. “What about SmithCraftHalls?”

Something in Torlo’s manner suggested to Haligon that
they
would have been legitimate targets. Haligon wondered why.

“SmithCraftHalls set up tighter safeguards after the first raids on their Halls ten or more Turns ago,” he said.

“Hmm. Yes. Recollect now.” Torlo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That Aivas guarded itself, didn’t it?”

“A Hall shouldn’t have to protect itself,” Haligon said.

“True.”

“Especially Healers, the one Craft that’s benefited most from the knowledge Aivas left behind.”

“Agreed.” Torlo motioned for Haligon to help himself to the sweet rolls on the board. He broke a piece off himself, pushing the crumbs into his mouth.

Delaying, Haligon thought, so he continued.

“Stationmaster, didn’t Master Oldive remove that growth from Grolly’s leg? Couldn’t have been able to do that before. I believe Grolly’s running again. And the cataract film from Tuvor’s eyes? He’s got clear sight now. I heard they can keep guts from popping out of a man’s belly. And they’re not niggardly with their help. Didn’t they show Beastmaster Frawly how to reduce the wobbles in that fine colt?”

“Aye? So what’re you driving at, Lord Haligon?”

“Some are spreading evil untruths about the Healers, with vile pamphlets …”

“Runners burn the ones they’re given.”

“They’ve seen some?” Haligon was jolted so badly he spilled klah on his hand.

“Runners won’t spread filth like that.”

“But where? When? Does it happen often?” So Crivellan was right to fret over the matter.

Torlo gave him a long stare. “Runner business. We take care of it.”

“But where? We must stop it. Do Runners know where it comes from?”

Torlo shrugged. “Runners stop it going further.”

“Yes, but not all of it,” Haligon said, becoming more agitated. “The vandals had a particularly grisly copy. Master Crivellan was distraught.”

“He’s not the only one.”

Haligon stiffened at the satiric tone of Torlo’s voice. “What quarrel do Runners have with the Healer Hall?” he asked in a low voice though there was no one else in the dining room just then.

“None.” Torlo was surprised by Haligon’s query.

“With whom then?”

Torlo paused, then a slight grin lifted the corner of his mouth and his eyes met Haligon’s squarely. “You’re not what you seem, Lord Haligon.”

“Runners are as essential to us all as Healers, Stationmaster. What’s the problem?”

Torlo considered that and then, making his decision, leaned forward.

“We’ve no objection to Healer Hall improvements: they benefit all. When ‘improvements’ threaten an entire Craft, now that’s a different track altogether.”

“Who would threaten Runners? Weyrwoman Lessa said last night that Runners would always be needed.”

Torlo gave an ironic bark. “Did she? And who’ll be needing the dragons
if
the truth is told about the Red Star?”

Haligon reassembled his thoughts. He’d never thought to step among so many verbal snakes.