Only the bronze did. The two blues settled on the ridge above the mine opening. Sight of the great beast that backwinged to the ground told Piemur all he needed to know to understand the Miners grimness. Before their exile south, the Oldtimers from Fort Weyr had made few appearances, but Piemur recognized Fidranth by the long sear scar on his rump and Tron by the arrogant swagger as he strode up to the minecot. Piemur didnt need to hear the conversation to know that Trons manner had not altered in his Turns south. With a very stiff bow, the Miner stepped aside as Tron, slapping his flying gloves against his thigh, strode disdainfully into the cothold. As the Miner followed, he glanced toward the shed. Piemur ducked behind the runner.
It needed little wit now to realize why the Miner had thrust the sack at him. Piemur investigated the contents: only four of the blue stones that spilled into his hand had been cut and polished. The others, ranging from one the size of his thumbnail to small uneven crystals, were rough. The blue sapphires were much prized by the Harper Hall, and stones as large as the four cut ones were mounted as badges for Masters of the Craft. Four cut stones? Four new masters walking the tables? Would Sebell be one of them, Piemur wondered.
Piemur thought a moment and then slipped the cut stones carefully, two and two, into his boots. He wiggled his feet until the stones settled, sharp lumps against his ankles but theyd not slip out. He hesitated as he was about to stow the sack in his pouch. He doubted Tron would stoop to searching a lowly apprentice, but the stones made a suspicious bulge, Checking the leather to make sure it bore no miners mark, he wrapped the thong on the backpad ring beside his drinking flask. Then he took off his jacket, folding the harper badge inside before he slung it over the pump handle. Trail dust had turned his blue pants to a nondescript gray.
A clink of boot nails on the ridge stone warned him and, whistling tunelessly, he picked up the beasts feet in turn, checking for stones in the cleft hooves.
You there! The peremptory tone irritated Piemur. Nton never spoke like that, even to a kitchen drudge.
Sor? Piemur unbent and stared around at the Oldtimer, hoping his anxious expression masked the anger he really felt. Then he glanced apprehensively at the Miner, saw a harsh wariness in the mans eyes and added in his best hillhold mumble, Sor, he was that sweated, Ive had a time cleaning him up.
Youve other work to do, said the Miner in a cold voice, jerking his head toward the cothold.
A day too late, am I, Miner? Well, theres been yesterdays work and this mornings. The Oldtimer superciliously gestured the Miner to precede him toward the open shaft.
Piemur watched, keeping a dull expression on his face as the two men disappeared from sight. Inwardly he was right pleased with his dissembling and was positive hed seen an approving glint in the Miners eyes.
By the time he had finished grooming the runner from nose to dock, Tron and the Miner had not yet reappeared. What other work would he have to do if he were a genuine miners apprentice? It would be logical for him to stay far away from the shaft at the moment, for hed be scared of the dragonrider if not of his master. Ah, but the Miner had indicated the cothold.
Piemur pumped water into a spare pail and lugged it back to the cothold, ogling with what he hoped was appropriate fear the blue dragons ensconced on the ridge, the riders hunkered between them.
The minecot was divided into two large rooms, one for sleeping, the other for relaxing and eating, with a small portion curtained off for the Miners privacy. The curtain was open, and plainly the disgruntled dragonrider had searched the press, locker and bedding. In the kitchen area, every drawer was open and every door was ajar. A large cooking pot on the hearth was boiling so hard its contents frothed from under its cover. Not wishing what might be his meal in the ashes, Piemur quickly swung the pot away from the full heat of the fire. Then he began to tidy the kitchen area. No lowly apprentice would enter the Masters quarters, however humble, without direct permission. He heard voices again, the Miners low comments and Trons angry reproaches. Then he heard the sounds of hammers against stone and ventured to look cautiously through the open window.
Six miners were squatting or kneeling, carefully chipping rough dark stone and dirt from the blue crystals possibly within. As Piemur watched, one of the miners rose, extending the palm of his hand toward the Miner. Tron intercepted the gesture and held the small object up to the sun. Then he gave an oath, clenching his fist. For a moment, Piemur thought that the Oldtimer was going to throw the stone away.
Is this all youre finding here now? This mine produced sapphires the size of a mans eye
Four hundred Turns ago it did indeed, Dragonrider, said the Miner in an expressionless voice that could not be construed either as insolent or courteous. We find fewer stones nowadays. The coarse dust is still good for grinding and polishing other gems, he added as the Oldtimer stared at the man carefully brushing what seemed like glistening sand into a small scoop, which he then emptied in a small lidded tub.
Im not interested in dust, Miner, or flawed crystals. He held up his clenched fist. I want good, sizable sapphires.
He continued to stand there, glaring at each of the miners in turn as they tapped cautiously away. Piemur, hoping that no larger sapphires would be discovered, made himself busy in the kitchen.
By the time the sun was westering behind the highest of the ridges, only six medium to small sapphires had rewarded Trons afternoon vigil. Piemur was not the only one to watch, half-holding his breath, as the Oldtimer stalked to Fidranth and mounted. The old bronze showed no faltering as he neatly lifted in the air, joined by the two blues. Only when the three had winked out between did the miners break into angry talk, crowding up to the Miner, who brushed them aside in his urgency, to get to the minecot.
I see why youre a messenger, young Piemur, said the Miner. Youve all your wits about you. Grinning, he extended his hand.
Piemur grinned back and pointed toward his backpad and the sack with its precious contents, looped in plain sight to the ring. He heard the Miners astonished oath, which turned into a roar of laughter.
You mean, he spent all afternoon facing what he wanted? cried the Miner. I did put the cut gems in my boots, Piemur said with a grimace for one of the stones had rubbed his ankle raw.
As the Miner retrieved the sack, the others began to cheer, for theyd had no chance to learn that the Miner had managed to save the product of several sevendays labor. Piemur found himself much admired for his quick thinking as well as his timely arrival.
Did you read my mind, lad, asked the Miner, to know that Id told the old grasper Id sent the gems off yesterday?
It seemed only logical, Piemur replied. Hed taken his boots off just then, examining the scratches the sapphires had made. It wouldve been a crying shame to let old Tron get away with these beauties!
And what are we going to do, Master, asked the oldest journeyman, when those Oldtimers come back again in a few sevendays and take what weve mined? That placers not played out yet.
Were closing up here tomorrow, said the Miner.
Why? Weve just found more
The Miner signaled silence abruptly.
Each craft has its privacies, said Piemur, grinning broadly. If the Miner felt an apprentice required no apology for such curtness, he would not be admonished for impertinence for repeating a well-known rule. But I shall have to mention this to Master Robinton, if only to explain why Im so late returning.
You must tell the Masterharper, lad. Hes got to know if no one else. Ill tell Masterminer Nicat. Then he swung about the room with a warning look at each of his own craftsmen. You all understand that this matter goes no further? Well and good. Tron got only a few flawed stonesyou were all very clever with your hammers today, though I deplore cracking good sapphires. The Miner sighed heavily for that necessity. Master Nicat will know which other miners to warn. Let the Oldtimers seek if it amuses them. When the older journeyman laughed derisively, the Miner went on, raising an admonishing finger at him. Enough! They are dragonmen, and they did help Benden Weyr and Pern when aid was badly needed! Then he turned to Piemur. Did you save any of our stew, lad? Ive the appetite of a queen dragon after clutching.
Chapter 4
That day held one more event! At sunset, as Piemur was helping the apprentice bring in the miners runners from the pasture, he heard the shrill cry of a fire lizard. Glancing up, he saw a slender body, wings back, drop with unnerving speed in his direction. The apprentice dropped to the ground, covering his head with his arms. Piemur braced his legs, but the bronze fire lizard did not come to his shoulder. Instead, Rocky spun round his head, berating him, his jewel-faceted eyes spinning violently red and orange in anger.
It took Piemur a few minutes to talk Rocky into landing on his shoulder and even more time to soothe the little creature until his eyes calmed into tones of greeny blue. All the time the miner apprentice watched, eyes bugged out.
There now, Rocky. Im all right, but I have to stay the night here. Im all right. You can tell Menolly that youve found me, cant you? That Im all right?
Rocky gave a half-chirp that sounded so skeptical Piemur had to laugh. Is that fire lizard yours? asked the Miner curiously as he approached Piemur, eyeing Rocky all the time.
No, sir, said Piemur with such chagrin the Miner smiled. This is one of Menollys, Master Robintons journeywoman. His name is Rocky. I help Menolly feed him mornings, because shes got the nine and theyre a right handful, so he knows me pretty well.
I didnt think the creatures had enough sense to find people!
Well, sir, I have to say its the first time its happened to me, and Piemur couldnt suppress the smug satisfaction he was feeling that Rocky had been able to find him.
Now that hes found you, what good will that do? asked the Miner with a revival of his skepticism.
Well, sir, he could go back to Menolly and make her understand that hes seen me. But it would be much more useful if youd let me have a bit of hide for a message. Tied on his leg, hell take it back, and theyll know exactly
The Miner held up his hand admonishingly. Id rather nothing in script about the Oldtimers visit.
Of course not, sir, replied Piemur, offended that he needed to be cautioned.
A terse message was all he could scribe on the scrap of hide the Miner grudgingly produced for him. The hide was so old, had been scraped so often for messages, that the ink blurred as he wrote. Safe! Delayed! Then it occurred to him to add in drum measures, Errand completed. Emergency. Old Dragon.
Youve a way with the little things, havent you? said the Miner with reluctant respect as he watched Piemur tying the message on Rockys leg, an operation the fire lizard oversaw as carefully as the Miner.
He knows he can trust me, said Piemur.
Id say there were not many, replied the Miner in such a dry tone that Piemur stared at him in surprise. No offense meant!
Piemur had to concentrate just then on imagining Menolly as strongly as he could in his mind. Then, lifting his hand high, he gave a practiced flick to send Rocky into flight.
Go to Menolly, Rocky! Go to Menolly!
He and the Miner watched until the little fire lizard seemed to disappear in the dimming light to the east. Then the apprentice called them to their meal.
As he ate, Piemur wondered what the Miner had meant by that remark. Not many that fire lizards could trust? Not many people that trusted Piemur? Why would the Miner say a thing like that? Hadnt he saved the miners sapphires for them? It wasnt as if hed told any lies to do so. Further hed never taken any real advantage of his friends in bargaining at a Gather or failing to keep a promise. All of his friends came to him for help. And, Shells, wasnt the Masterharper entrusting him with this errand? And knowing about Harper Hall secrets? What had the Miner meant?
Piemur! Someone shook him by the shoulder.
Abruptly the young harper realized that hed been addressed several times.
Youre a harper! Can you not give us a song?
The eagerness of the request from men isolated for long periods of time in a lonely hold gave Piemur a genuine pang of regret.
Sirs, the reason Im messenger is that my voice is changing and Im not allowed to sing just now. But, he added seeing the intense disappointment on every face, that doesnt mean I cant talk them to you. If youve something I can drum to give the rhythm.
After several attempts, he found a saucepan that did not sound too flat, and while the men stomped their heavy boots in time, he talked the newest songs from the Harper Hall, even giving them Domicks new song about Lessa. The Shell knew when theyd hear it sung, though no one was supposed to hear it until Lord Groghes feast. If the performance of the spoken song lacked much in Piemurs estimation, Master Shonagar couldnt hear, Domick would never know, and the men were so grateful that he felt completely justified.
He left the minehold with the first rays of the sun and made the trip back to the Harper Hall at a downhill pace that all but forced his voice back up to the treble range. At times his runner slithered unnervingly down tracks that they had laboriously climbed the day before. Piemur closed his eyes, held tightly to the saddle pad, and fervently hoped not to go sailing off the track into the deep gorges. When he returned the stolid runner to Banak, it was barely sweated under the midstrap while Piemur knew that his armpits and back were damp with perspiration.
Safe back, I see, was Banaks only remark. He may be slow, but hes sure-footed, said Piemur with such exaggerated relief that Banak laughed.