“You’ve got clever men in your Hall,” Corman said, adding hastily, “and women. “ He was exceedingly fond of Menolly. “But what if he should find something going on in one of our Holds and needs our help?”
“If he needs help, Lord Corman,” the Harper said with a sly smile, “then he’s not been as clever as he should be. Leave the matter with me for this cold season. There’s too much snow around for anyone needing to hide his tracks.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Sifer muttered.
Keita’s orders from Thella included reporting any break in the usual Hold routine. Keita did not know much more than that Lord Sifer had been away overnight, conveyed by a dragonrider to his destination, but she did hear that upon his return he ordered his warders to let him know of any traces of occupation in way-caves or sites, and in particular of any tracks on back trails. The Bitra drum tower had been busy, but she did not know what the messages were about, as they had not used an open code.
Thella read and reread that message, almost pleased that she would have the challenge that the search would offer. Sifer did not worry her; his guards were more fond of gambling and prodding the holdless beyond Bitra’s borders. But he was more likely than Corman, Laudey, or Asgenar to drop useful information if he was irritated.
Come to think of it, lately there did seem to be more sweepriders doing low-level flights above the forested hills and ridges. She had not quite counted on that. She gave orders to keep travel to a minimum—her storerooms were well stocked, so that meant no hardship—and gave strict instructions that those who did move across open areas must cover their tracks as they went. Dushik, Readis, and Perschar carried those orders to her other bases. For a while she would lie low.
It was Readis who returned six days later to tell her that the Masterharper had been seen at Lemos Hold, along with Corman, Laudey, Larad, and Sifer.
“So, they’ve called the Harper in for advice. So what?”
“He’s no simpleton, Thella,” Readis said, frowning at her casual dismissal of what he considered disturbing news. “He’s the most powerful person on Pern, next to F’lar.”
Thella widened her eyes in mock surprise and alarm. “Spare me!”
“The Harper Hall knows things. You pride yourself that you’ve got ears all over the Eastern Range, Thella.” Readis wanted to shake the complacence out of her. “Well, he’s got ears, and drums, all over this continent and, some say, in the southern one, too.”
“Harper Hall doesn’t even have guard units!” she scoffed.
But even Dushik looked worried. “Harper doesn’t need them,” he said. “What the Harper knows gets around, if that’s what he wants.” He scowled. “I had to come east to get away from Harper words.”
“I know, Dushik, I know.” Thella said. Her voice was testy, but she smiled placatingly at her devoted crony. “You check over anyone who suddenly gets the urge to join our stalwart crew. Harpers always have callused fingertips from plucking strings all the time.”
Dushik nodded, reassured, but Readis frowned.
“I wouldn’t leave it at just that, Thella,” he began.
“Who’s holder here, Readis? Aren’t we living well and far more comfortably than most lousy mountain holders? Certainly far better than any other holdless?” Her voice rang out, echoing down the tunnels to other chambers. She liked the effect, liked the vibrant sound of her own voice, and it never hurt to remind her folk just how much they had acquired under her guidance. “It’s taken the Lord Holders nearly twelve Turns to realize what’s been happening.”
Readis stared back at her. “Lady Holdless Thella, you did take great interest in Fax’s doings in the west. Don’t underestimate harpers as he did. That’s all I’ll say on the matter.”
“Readis is right about harpers, Lady Thella,” Giron said, surprising everyone by speaking up. “And that Robinton is the cleverest man on Pern.”
“You have both made good points,” Thella said, and beside her Dushik relaxed. He was very sensitive to any criticism of her. “We’ve been so very successful, and that can make one careless. Giron, how many of the harpers do you know?”
Giron shrugged. “A few. The Weyrwoman Bedella liked music. Harper Hall sent them to Telgar Weyr whenever she asked.”
“I’d be far more concerned with those bloody sweepriders that we can’t see until they’re above us,” Dushik said, pointedly looking at Giron. “They’re the real problem.”
Abruptly Giron left the chamber, and Thella turned angrily on Dushik. “You let me handle him, Dushik!”
“Hamian!” Piemur called to the Masterminer, pointing toward the bluff on the right-hand side of the Island River. “Those mounds! They’re not natural!”
“No, they’re not,” Hamian answered without even looking up from the line he was neatly coiling. Minercrafter he might be, but he had been a sailor from his earliest Turns both in Southern and at High Palisades. He would no more leave untidy decks than he would an untidy forge or shaft. “There’re some more, farther down the river on the left bank. Don’t know what they used to be, but the piles haven’t been washed away.”
“But don’t you want to look?” Piemur was astonished by Hamian’s disinterest. Sometimes he thought the man took for granted all the beauty and wealth around him.
Hamian grinned at the young harper. “I’ve enough on my plate without haring off to look at ruins I can’t waste time searching.” His grin broadened, and he ruffled Piemur’s sun-bleached hair. “I make good use of the ones in the open pit. They even marked the direction of the veins. I don’t know how they did that!”
Piemur ducked away. “But who are ‘they’? You said there wasn’t any mention of Southern workings in the Smithcrafthall records.”
Hamian shrugged. “That doesn’t mean much. As far back as they’re legible, they’re all about mine yields and tons smelted, and who bought what and where it was shipped. Except for Master Fandarel, the Craftmasters didn’t look much beyond the main hall. Put your backs in it!” he roared at the oarsmen. Once past the delta region, he hoped for a good westerly breeze to fill the sails and make some headway over the broad portion of the Island River. He licked a finger and held it up. “The wind’s picking up!” He cupped his hands and yelled encouragement to the rowers. “Not long now!” But to Piemur, he muttered, “Those shiftless mongrels,” before he raised his voice again. “I can see who’s leaning on his oars! Number four oar, you there, Tawkin—you and your partner, number six, put your backs into it, damn your hides, or there’ll be no beer tonight unless you—that’s more like it!
“I tell you what, Piemur,” Hamian added, relenting as he saw the disappointment on the young man’s face. “You and Stupid can investigate on our way back. An independent study to show Toric you’re good at charting and measuring. Keep an eye on those starboard banks—” He outlined the area he meant. “See how long that bank is. This shallow draft sloop is fine for river traffic but, as we both know, not all that great in coastal waters. If we’d a collecting point here…” Hamian thought for a moment, then slowly began to grin. “We could set up a permanent hold up there, in those ruins, and transship ore direct to Nerat or Keroon Sea Hold. Save a lot of time and effort, and give some responsible man a proper hold. Hmm, yes, you do that.”
Hamian had already calculated that they had made better time coming east along the coast than they did beating around the Southern cape and having to wait for the tide to ride over the reef into the lagoon. They had enjoyed a couple of days of easy sailing down the Island River before they came to the fork where a smaller tributary came down out of the central hills to join the flow. Just beyond that conjoining was where Hamian hoped to set up a hold, if the river proved navigable that far.
Wanting to avoid the miserable haul down Lagoon River and through the swamps that his sister Sharra found so fascinating, he had taken several days off to sail east. Somewhere in that direction the Island River must start. It had been an easy trek down the foothills to a point where he could see the river shimmering in the distance. The terrain was perfect for a burden-beast route. It had taken some pretty sharp dealing with Toric, but with some subtle help from Sharra and their brother, Kevelon, he had convinced the holder to see the benefit of cutting down travel time. There had been another load of northerners to absorb, so Hamian had volunteered to take all of them off Toric’s hands and put them to work building pier and hold above the spring flood level. There was enough grassland for herdbeasts, and the mountains were close enough to quarry stone.