“And you’ve never missed with bow and arrow,” Jayge said proudly. “‘And—” Jayge grinned at Piemur. “We’ve a fair home brew.” He went to a wall cupboard, fashioned out of one of the crates he had mentioned, and opened it to display two small barrels, their shape reminiscent of much larger ones Piemur had seen at the Benden Mastervintner’s. “We’ve been experimenting,” Jayge went on, pouring three cups and serving them. “And it’s improving!”
Piemur sniffed and found its aroma odd, not as fruity as he had expected. He took a sip.
“Ooooh, that’s great stuff!” His appreciation was genuine as he felt the shock of it coursing pleasantly through him. He raised his cup to the smiling Ara and Jayge in a toast. “To friends, near and far!”
“I think it’ll improve with age,” Jayge remarked with quiet satisfaction after he and Ara had solemnly returned the toast. “But for a trader’s brew, it’s passable.”
“I could be prejudiced, or maybe I’ve just lost my palate, but Jayge, this’s smooth to lip, mouth, and throat, and a tonic to blood and bone.”
They talked long into the crystal clear, chill early hours of the morning until sheer fatigue slowed both question and answer. If Piemur had extracted from them an account of their establishment there, he had replied with eagerly received news of the North—expurgated, of course, and embellished when the incident deserved his harper’s touch. Piemur had introduced himself with rank, craft, and hold affiliation and explained that his current task was to explore the coast. Jayge had responded that he was a trader by craft and that Ara was from Igen. There was something that they were not revealing, Piemur was quick enough to realize, but then, he had not told them the entire truth either.
Piemur remained with Jayge and Ara for longer than he should have. Not only did he admire their fortitude and industry—even Toric would consider them resourceful and diligent—but also he wanted time to delve into the mystery of the buildings there on the far edge of nowhere. In the oldest of the Harper Hall Records, there had been elusive fragments, which Piemur, as Master Robinton’s special apprentice, had been allowed to see. When man came to Pern, he established a good Hold in the South, one fragment had begun, only to conclude ambiguously, but found it necessary to move north to shield. Like Robinton, Piemur had always wondered why anyone would have left the beautiful and fertile Southern Continent and settle the far harsher north. But it must have happened—the discovery of the ancient mine had been evidence of that. And now these incredible buildings!
Piemur could not imagine how building materials could have lasted so long. It could only be more of those forgotten methods and lost secrets that Mastersmith Fandarel had complained about so often, and which his Crafthall was trying to revive.
That first morning, with young Readis toddling when he could and carried when he tired, Jayge and Ara showed Piemur around what had clearly once been an extensive settlement.
“We’ve torn down most of the creepers and shoveled out some of the blown sand,” Jayge said, leading the way into a one-room building. The two big, rangy canines—the black one was Chink and the brindle, Giri—always preceded their masters into buildings and rooms, an exercise to which they had clearly been trained. A snap of fingers brought them back to heel, or sit, or stay. “We found this.” Jayge pointed to a piece of enameled metal, a man’s hand wide and two arms long, leaning against the inside wall.
“There’s lettering on it,” Piemur said, angling to one side to read it. “P A R…can’t read the next one…D I S…nor the next.” He hunkered down and fingered the metal. “ ‘RIVER’ is perfectly legible!” He grinned at Ara, then tried to decipher the final word. “Looks like ‘stake’ to me.”
“We think the first word is ‘Paradise,’ ” Ara said shyly.
Piemur glanced out the open door to the idyllic surroundings, peaceful, private, beautiful with blossom and fruit. “I’d say that was a fair description,” he said.
“I’m positive this was a teaching room,” Ara went on in an embarrassed rush. “We found these!” She hefted Readis into his father’s arms and beckoned Piemur to a corner where she lifted the cover of a box of the ubiquitous opaque material. She held up a short, fat record, neatly squared off like one of Lord Asgenar’s newly bound leaves.
As Piemur turned it in his hand, its texture, despite the stains of age, was somehow soapy. The leaves fell open to clever illustrations so humorous that he smiled; he glanced at the words beneath them—short sentences all, and the letters, while recognizable, were absurdly big and bold. Master Arnor would never have let Harper Hall apprentices waste so much space; he taught them to write in small but legible letters, so that more could be crammed onto each page of hide.
“Clearly a youngster’s book,” he agreed. “But no teaching song I’ve ever read.”
“I can’t imagine what these were,” Ara said, holding up some flat rectangular objects, fingerlength and fingernail thin. “Even if they are numbered. And this…” She drew out a second, slimmer lesson book.
“I don’t know how much figuring a harper has to do,” Jayge said, “but it’s far beyond a trader’s need.”
Piemur recognized the combinations as equations, far more complicated than those Wansor had managed to drum into his head for use in figuring distances. He grinned, anticipating the expression on the Starsmith’s face when he opened that book.
“I know someone who might like to look at that,” he said casually.
“Take it with you,” Jayge replied. “It’s no good to us.”
Piemur shook his head regretfully. “I’d be afraid to lose it in my travels. If it’s lasted this long, it can wait here awhile longer.” Then he made a show of examining the box itself, which was made of more of that strange and durable material, without joins at its corners. “Master Fandarel is going to drive himself crazy trying to duplicate this material. How far have you gone inland and along the coast?” he asked Jayge.
“Three days west and two east.” Jayge shrugged. “More coves and forests. Before he took sick, Scallak and I followed the river, oh, four or five days, to where there’s a deep bend in its course. We could see mountains in the distance, but the river valley was much the same as it is here.”
“And no one else,” Ara added.
“You’re lucky I came!” Piemur spread out his arms, smiling mischievously to lighten their somberness.
On his second night he brought out his reed flute and the multiple pipes he had made, copying Menolly’s design, to cheer his lonely evenings. Jayge and Ara were grateful to hear music, Jayge mumbling along in a raspy light baritone while Ara lilted in a clear, sweet soprano. He showed them both the rudiments of playing and made them pipes.
Piemur made an outline of their holding, noting the positions of the restored house and each of the ruins. He knew exactly how far a man could walk the coast in a day and marked out an appropriate border on each side of the river. An inland boundary would have to wait, but he mentioned Jayge’s bend. He witnessed the sketch and wrapped it apart from his other records, to keep until he had a chance to discuss it with Master Robinton. If the Harper proved still too estranged from Benden, then he would speak to T’gellan about Jayge and Ara. If necessary, he would stand witness for them with Toric and the Weyrleaders himself.
He made Farli memorize the unique landmarks so that she could find her way back to the Paradise River Hold. Observing that exercise, Ara and Jayge asked him about his fire-lizard. They had Impressed eight between them—two queens, three bronzes, and three browns—but they had not trained them to any particular duties, apart from watching out for Readis’s cry. So on the fourth day, Piemur helped them with the most basic training. They were amazed at how well the creatures responded.