Dragonriders of Pern 6 - Dragondrums by Anne McCaffrey Read Free Book Online Page A

had been unremarked by himself.

    Several messages came in that afternoon, two from the north and one from the south. Three went out; one in answer to Tillek’s question from the north; an originating message to Igen Tanner Hall; and the third to Master-Briaret, the Masterherdsman. To tantalize him, all the messages were too quickly delivered for him to recognize more than a few phrases. Infuriated to be in a position to know more and unable to exercise the advantage to the full, Piemur memorized two columns of drum measures. If his zeal surprised Dirzan, it irritated his fellow apprentices. They presented him with several all too forceful arguments against too much application on his part. Piemur had always relied on being able to outrun any would-be adversaries, but he discovered that there was no place to run to in the drumheights. While nursing his bruises, he stubbornly learned off three more columns, though he kept this private, tempering his recitations to Dirzan. Discretion, he was learning, is required on many different levels.

    He was not sorry six days later to be told to take a message to a minehold situated on an awkward ridge in the Fort Hold Range. With a signed, Harper-sealed tube of record hide, he mounted the same stolid runner beast Banak had given him for the previous trip.

    Gingerly settling the seat of his now well-softened wherhide pants onto the pad, Piemur was relieved to feel no discomfort from his tail bones as the creature moved off. The journey should take him two to three hours, Banak said, as he’d pointed out to him the correct southwestern track. Three hours was probably correct, Piemur thought as his efforts to increase the pace of his runner failed. By the time the wide track had narrowed to a thinner trace, winding against a stony hillside, with deep gorges on the outside, Piemur was quite willing to let his runner go at that steady, careful pace. As he figured it would have taken the Fort Hold watchdragon only a few moments to make the trip, and the watchdragon’s rider was quite willing to oblige the Masterharper of Pern, he wondered why he’d been sent. Until he delivered his message tube to the taciturn mineholder.

    “You’re from the Harper Hall?” The man scowled at him dubiously.

    “Apprentice to Master Olodkey, the Drummaster!” This could be some sort of test of his prudence.

    “Wouldn’t have thought they’d send a boy on this errand,” he said with a skeptical grunt.

    “I’ve fourteen Turns, sir,” Piemur replied, trying to deepen his tone without notable success.

    “No offense meant, lad.”

    “None taken.” Piemur was pleased that his voice remained steady.

    The Miner paused, his gaze drawn upward. Not, Piemur noticed, in the direction of the sun. When the Miner began to scowl, Piemur also looked up. Though why the Miner should register displeasure at the sight of three dragons in the sky, Piemur couldn’t guess. True, Thread had fallen only three days before, but you’d think dragons would be a reassuring sight at any time.

    “There’s feed and water in the shed,” said the Miner, still watching the dragons. He gestured absently over his left shoulder.

    Obediently Piemur started to lead the runner around, hoping that there would be something for himself as well when he’d tended the beast. Suddenly, the Miner let out a startled oath and retreated into his holdcot. Piemur had only reached the shed when the Miner came striding after him, thrust a small bulging sack at him.

    “This is what you were sent for. Tend your beast while I tend these unexpected arrivals.”

    Piemur’s trained ear did not miss the apprehension in the Miner’s tone nor the implicit command that Piemur was to remain out of sight. He made no comment, stuffing the small sack in his belt pouch while the Miner watched. The man left as Piemur vigorously pumped water into the trough for his thirsty beast. As soon as the Miner reached his cot, Piemur changed his position so