Dragondrums
Anne McCaffrey
AT THE HARPER CRAFT HALL
Robinton—Masterharper; bronze fire lizard, Zair
Masters:
Jerint—Instrument maker
Domick—Composition
Shonagar—Voice
Arnor—Archivist
Oldive—Healer
Olodkey—Drummaster
Masterharper Journeymen:
Sebell; gold fire lizard, Kimi
Talmor
Menolly; nine fire lizards:
Gold: Beauty
Bronze: Rocky, Diver
Brown: Lazybones, Mimic, Brownie
Blue: Uncle
Green: Auntie One, Auntie Two
Drum Journeymen:
Dirzan
Rokayas
Drum Apprentices:
Piemur
Clell
Apprentices:
Ranly
Timiny
Brolly
Bonz
Tilgin
Silvina—headwoman
Abuna—kitchen worker
Camo—half-witted kitchen drudge
Banak—head stockman
AT FORT HOLD
Lord Holder Groghe; gold fire lizard, Merga
N’ton—Weyrleader of Fort Weyr; fire lizard, Tris
AT NABOL HOLD
Lord Holder Meron
Candler—harper
Berdine—journeyman healer
Deckter—grand-nephew of Meron
Hittet—blood relation of Meron
Kaljan—minemaster
AT IGEN HOLD
Lord Holder Laudey
Bantur—harper
Deece—journeyman harper
AT SOUTHERN HOLD
Lord Holder Toric
Saneter—harper
Sharra—Toric’s sister
AT BENDEN WEYR
F’lar—Weyrleader
Lessa—Weyrwoman
Felessan—son of F’lar and Lessa
T’gellan—bronze dragonrider
F’nor—brown dragonrider; gold fire lizard, Grall
Brekke—queenrider; bronze fire lizard, Berd
Manora—headwoman
Mirrim—fosterling of Brekke; three fire lizards
Oharan—harper
AT SOUTHERN WEYR
T’kul—Weyrleader
Marda—Weyrwoman
T’ron—dragonrider
CRAFTMASTERS
Masterherdsman Briaret
Masterminer Nicat
Chapter 1
The rumble-thud-boom of the big drums answering a message from the east roused Piemur. In his five Turns at the Harper Craft Hall, he had never become accustomed to that bone-throbbing noise. Perhaps, he thought, sleepily turning over, if the drums beat every dawn, or in the same sequence, he’d get accustomed enough to sleep through it. But he doubted that. He was naturally a light sleeper, a talent picked up when he’d been a herder’s boy and had to keep an ear awake for night alarms among the runner beasts. The facility had often been to his advantage since the other apprentices in his dormitory couldn’t sneak up on him with vengeance in mind. And he was often awakened by discreet, dragon-borne visitors coming to see the Masterharper of Pern, or the arrivals and departures of Master Robinton himself, for he was surely one of the most important men on Pern; almost as influential as F’lar and Lessa, the Weyrleaders of Benden. Occasionally, too, on warm summer nights, when the shutters of the main hall were thrown back, the masters and journeymen assuming all the apprentices slept, he’d hear fascinating and uninhibited talk drifting on the night air. A small fellow like himself had to keep ahead of everyone else, and listening often showed him how.
As he tried to get back to sleep for just a little longer in the gray dawn, the drum sequence echoed in his mind. The message had originated from Ista Hold’s harper: he had caught the identifying signature. He couldn’t be sure of the rest of the message: something about a ship. Maybe he ought to learn message-drum beats. Not that they came in with such frequency now that more and more people owned little Ere lizards to take messages round and about Pern.
He wondered when he’d get his hands on a fire lizard egg. Menolly had promised him one when her queen, Beauty, mated. A nice thought on her part, Piemur reflected, realistically aware that Menolly might not be able to distribute Beauty’s eggs as she wished. Master Robinton would want them placed to the Harper Hall’s advantage. And Piemur couldn’t fault Master Robinton. One day, though, he’d have his fire lizard. A queen, or, at least, a bronze.
Piemur folded his hands behind his head, musing on such a delightful prospect. From having helped Menolly feed her nine, he knew a fair bit about them now. More than some people who had fire lizards, the same people who’d been claiming for Turns that fire lizards were boy’s sun-dreams. That is, until F’nor, brown Canth’s rider, had Impressed a little queen on a beach in the southern continent. Then Menolly, halfway across Pern, had saved a fire lizard queen’s eggs from being drowned in the unusually high tides of that Turn. Now everyone wanted a fire lizard, and admitted that they must be tiny cousins to the great dragons of Pern.
Piemur shivered with delighted terror. Thread had fallen over Fort Hold yesterday. They’d been rehearsing Master Domick’s new saga about the search for Lessa and how she’d become Weyrwoman at Benden just before the new Pass of the Red Star, but Piemur had been much more aware of the silvery Threads dropping through the skies above the tightly shuttered and sealed Harper Hall. He’d imagined, as he always did during Threadfall, the graceful passages of the great dragons as their fiery breath charred Thread before it could fall to the ground and devour anything living, before it could burrow into the ground and multiply. Even thinking of that phenomenon made Piemur quiver fearfully again.
Before Master Robinton had discovered Menolly’s talent at songmaking, she’d actually lived outside her hold, caring for the nine fire lizards she had Impressed from the rescued clutch. If only, thought Piemur with a sigh, he wasn’t immured in the Crafthall; if only he had a chance to search seashores and find his own clutch… Of course, as a mere apprentice, he’d have to give the eggs to his Craft Master, but surely, if he found a whole clutch, Master Robinton would let him keep one.
The sudden raucous call of a fire lizard startled him, and he sat up in alarm. The sun was now streaming across the outer side of the Harper Hall rectangle. He had fallen asleep again. If Rocky was screaming, he was late to help feed. With deft movements, he dressed, except for his boots, and thudded down the steps, emerging into the courtyard just as he heard the second, more urgent summons from a hungry Rocky.
When he saw that Camo was only just trudging up the steps outside the kitchen, clutching his bowl of scraps, Piemur drew a sigh of relief. He wasn’t all that late! He thrust his feet into his boots, stuffed the laces inside to save time, and clomped across the court just as Menolly came down the steps from the Main Hall. Rocky, Mimic and Lazy whirled above Piemur’s head, chittering hungrily at him to move faster.
Piemur glanced up, looking for Beauty. Menolly had told him that when the little queen was close to mating time she’d seem to be more golden than ever. She was now circling to land on Menolly’s shoulder, but she seemed the same color as ever.