Dragon Harper (18 page)

“On the way downstairs,” Kindan replied, carefully pouring some confectioner’s sugar into a cup of cold water, stirring all the while.

“And where were you before that?” Selora demanded.

“We fell asleep in the Archive Room,” Kindan said, hoping to sound convincing.

Selora snorted. “You’d better be a better harper than you are a liar.”

Kindan turned bright red.

“Let’s eat up in my study,” Murenny suggested several minutes later when Selora announced that the rolls were ready and Koriana had the
klah
made. With a wink, he explained to Kindan, “I wouldn’t want the other apprentices to feel that I’ve picked a favorite.”

While Kindan examined the awesome possibility that perhaps the Masterharper
had
picked a favorite, he and Selora quickly set out a tray and filled it with a selection of rolls, a pitcher of still-steaming
klah,
and several mugs.

They made their way to Murenny’s study and, at his gesture, seated themselves around the breakfast table. Kindan sat facing the window. As he was pouring his mug of
klah,
he spotted Vaxoram exit the apprentice dormitory, looking furtively around the courtyard in the growing dawn.

Masterharper Murenny noticed Kindan’s look, got up, and peered out the window himself. With a speculative glance toward Kindan, Murenny leaned out of the window and shouted to Vaxoram, “Why don’t you come up and join us?”

A few moments later, Vaxoram knocked on the door and Murenny invited him inside.

“Come in, come in,” the Masterharper said, gesturing cheerfully for Vaxoram to join them. He rose and pulled a free chair from his worktable over to the breakfast table, indicating that Vaxoram should sit with them. “I see that Kindan remembered to set a spare mug, so pour yourself some
klah
and grab one of those delicious rolls before they’re all gone.”

Vaxoram glanced nervously at Kindan before filling his mug and grabbing a roll. Then, deciding that he was safe, the older apprentice carefully began to slowly chew his roll.

Murenny waited in a genial silence until Vaxoram finished his roll and had a sip of
klah
before continuing, “Vaxoram, how well do you know the codes regarding dueling?”

The older apprentice gave the Masterharper a startled look. “I remember all that Master Detallor taught me,” he replied defensively.

“I’m sure you do,” Murenny agreed. “Do you remember the rules of dishonor?”

Vaxoram flushed and bowed his head. “Yes.”

Murenny shook his head. “I don’t think you’re following me, Vaxoram.”

The older apprentice glanced up, first at Kindan, then at Murenny.

“Do you remember the rules for a re-challenge?”

Vaxoram creased his brow in thought, then in slowly dawning surprise. Kindan gasped as he realized what the Masterharper was aiming at and Vaxoram turned his attention to him, consideringly.

“If the victor dishonors the cause of the challenge, the vanquished can demand a rematch,” Koriana said slowly. She glanced at Kindan, biting her lower lip nervously.

“Yes,” Murenny said, his voice completely serious. He looked long and hard at Vaxoram. “Is there reason for you to demand a rematch?”

“No,” Vaxoram declared immediately, his eyes locked with Kindan’s. He glanced back to the Masterharper. “No, Masterharper, there is not.”

Murenny nodded, then turned steely eyes on Kindan.

“Where were you last night?”

“I was in my bunk,” Kindan replied in a small voice. “Koriana was with me.”

“By my choice,” Koriana declared, reaching out to grab Kindan’s hand. Her strong grip felt feeble and distant compared against the huge hole in the pit of Kindan’s stomach.

Murenny did not so much as glance toward her, asking Kindan directly, “Did you break your word?”

Kindan’s mouth was dry and he swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. More than anything, he wished he were somewhere else, that events were different, that he wasn’t pinned under the terrible glare of the Masterharper’s wrath.

Murenny’s lips tightened in Kindan’s silence. “Were you hoping to convince us of a lie?”

“Yes, Master,” Kindan answered feebly, feeling totally ashamed.

“Then how can you hope to be a harper?” the Masterharper asked, his voice challenging.

Kindan could only shake his head mutely. “I don’t know,” he confessed finally. He felt torn between getting up then and there, packing his things and leaving the Harper Hall, or just leaving. He had never felt so dejected.

Murenny turned his attention to Vaxoram.

“Why did you permit this?” Murenny asked. The older apprentice shook his head mutely and Murenny pressed him, “Who woke them in the morning?”

“I did,” Vaxoram confessed.

“Why?” Murenny asked him, his face full of curiosity. “Why did you not report this? With Kindan dishonored, your honor would be restored.”

“He was not dishonorable,” Vaxoram said, meeting the Masterharper’s eyes frankly. He glanced to Kindan. “I will not betray you.”

Kindan could only nod glumly, too numb to appreciate the depth of Vaxoram’s admission.

“Masterharper Murenny,” Koriana interjected, “I love Kindan. I would never let him do anything that would cause him dishonor.”

“Yet you have,” Murenny snapped. He gestured at the hand clasping Kindan’s and Koriana dropped it as though stung. “You have dishonored him, your father, me, your Hold, and the Harper Hall.” Murenny shifted his gaze to include Kindan. “Both of you.”

“I love her,” Kindan responded, reaching out to regain Koriana’s hand with his own.

“More than your honor?” Murenny asked relentlessly. “More than her honor?” He did not wait for their response before continuing, “What sort of love is it that demands dishonor and lies to even exist?

“How,” and his voice filled the room with its strength, “can any of you think for an instant that this stained emotion can last?”

“But I
love
him!” Koriana protested, breaking down into tears and burying her face in her hands.

Murenny shook his head, with a sad expression on his face. “I see only need, not love.”

Koriana looked up at him in silent shock and outrage.

“And betrayal,” Murenny continued, his voice quiet but firm. Kindan glanced hotly at the Masterharper, furious that he should cause Koriana so much pain, but Murenny met his eyes sternly, as he continued, “Betrayal of your honor, betrayal of your family, betrayal of yourself.”

“But Father would never—” Koriana began in protest.

“Not now!” Murenny cut her off. “Now you will never know how he would have behaved had you come to him honestly, with your heart open, and told him your true feelings.” He glanced toward Kindan. “Nor will you ever know how I would have responded, how I might have helped you.” He shook his head. “The two of you have betrayed each other as surely as if you’d fought a duel to the death.”

The horrible silence that fell lasted only for an instant and was shattered as a brilliant splash of gold burst into the room. Koriss entered from
between,
bringing a crisp air into the room and filling it with her loud, raucous cries, her eyes whirling red in anger and confusion. Koriana grabbed for her, missed, grabbed again, cradling the agitated fire-lizard tight against her body. It was a number of minutes before Koriss’s red faceted eyes changed to a calmer green and the fire-lizard nuzzled against her partner, chirping concernedly.

Kindan watched the proceedings with a growing sense of unease.

“Koriana,” he asked tensely, “does Koriss have an image for you?”

Koriana gave him a puzzled look. Kindan told her, “Close your eyes and concentrate on her.”

Koriana did so, her expression still quizzical, but only for a moment as her eyes popped open again and she told them in alarm, “Father’s coming and he’s got guards with him!”

“Yes,” Murenny murmured, glancing at Kindan and Vaxoram, “just as I’d feared.”

Under the Masterharper’s direction, the four of them met Lord Holder Bemin just outside the archway into the Harper Hall.

“Lord Holder,” Murenny called in greeting, bowing low. Bemin regarded him coldly, flanked on either side by two burly guards and trailed by four more, all carrying swords. “We were just about to come to you.”

“I see,” Bemin said. He gestured curtly to his daughter. “Koriana.”

“Father,” Koriana replied, ducking her head obediently.

“Your mother was most worried,” Bemin said. Kindan thought that that was a lie; it seemed that the Lord Holder was most agitated, which made more sense if he’d ever heard rumors of Murenny’s involvement with Sannora.

“I was fine, honestly,” Koriana replied. “We were late going through the Records—we think we might have found something vital—”

“If it were so vital, why didn’t the Masterharper send us a messenger?” Bemin interjected, a foreboding look on his face. “Why didn’t he drum a message?”

As if in answer to his question, the faint sound of distant drums echoed into Fort’s valley. Kindan, Vaxoram, Murenny, and Koriana all strained to hear the faint throbbing notes.

“Emergency,” Koriana repeated as she deciphered the first code. She and Kindan locked eyes, much to Bemin’s anger. “Emergency,” she added, her eyes going wider. “Emergency.”

The noise faded and everyone strained for any new notes.

But there were none.

“Three, not four,” Vaxoram remarked in relief, only to himself.

“A major Hold emergency,” Koriana said, sounding a bit unsure. “Not a minor Hold emergency.”

“But from where?” Murenny asked, turning as if for an answer toward the repeater tower lost in the distance.

Bemin glanced nervously at each of them in turn, ending with his daughter.

“What does it mean?” he asked Koriana. Behind him, Kindan noticed that the Fort guards had unconsciously shifted toward each other as if for protection.

“It could be Telgar,” Vaxoram suggested.

“Or Igen or Ista,” Kindan responded.

“Even if it were two, that wouldn’t be a Pern-wide emergency,” Bemin protested. “There’d have to be something involving more than half of the major Holds for that.”

Murenny nodded but his words were not reassuring. “True, but the illness was in Keroon, so why couldn’t it spread to Igen or any of the seaward minor Holds, and then how long would it be before Ista was infected?”

Bemin responded with a sour look. “If that were so, how come we haven’t heard anything from the Weyrs?”

“A good question,” Murenny replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Well, it’s neither here nor there,” Bemin said after a moment spent fulminating. He glanced toward his daughter. “Koriana, your mother is most anxious for you.”

“My duty is here, Father,” Koriana replied resolutely.

“Your duty is where I say it is,” Bemin replied, his eyes narrowing in anger.

“Yes, my lord,” Koriana agreed with a nod of her head. “And you instructed me to be here, searching the Records, learning the drum codes, and how to control my fire-lizard.” She paused for just a moment. “So I am here, doing my duty to you and Pern.”

“Pern?” Bemin repeated, one brow arched in surprise.

Koriana nodded. “I believe, Father, that anything that we can learn about previous plagues like this will save many lives on Pern,” she replied.

“Saving lives is a job for healers,” Bemin snapped.

“And Holders,” Koriana retorted, her blue eyes flashing.

“Who told you that?” Bemin demanded in surprise.

“You did.”

“I never—”

“You said that a Holder is responsible for all the lives in the Hold,” Koriana reminded him. The Lord Holder closed his mouth with an audible click, glaring at Masterharper Murenny accusingly.

When Murenny made no reaction, Bemin turned back to his wayward daughter. “That’s correct,” he told her. “And the holders owe their lord service, even including his own children.”

Koriana opened her mouth for another retort, but before she could speak, the air above them suddenly darkened as a large bronze dragon appeared from
between.

Moments later, Valla plummeted down to Kindan, pulling up just in time to land—hard—on Kindan’s shoulder.