The interment had been set for mid-afternoon. Every dragon came laden with as many passengers as it was safe to carry. Toric himself arrived on K'van's Heth; his seldom-seen wife, Ramala, accompanied him. He immediately began to solicit the other Lord Holders for guards to help him with his rebels. From the expression on the big Southerner's face, Robinton surmised that he was meeting with little success. When the Harper had a chance to compare notes with Sebell, it appeared that the Lord Holders, without exception, felt that this was an inappropriate time to recruit a punitive force-which meant that Toric would air that problem at the Conference. That was another debate sure to be heated. Robinton was of two minds about attending: he was no longer obliged to, but the invitation had been made to him, and though he trusted Sebell to report accurately, he preferred to make his own observations whenever possible.
However, all minor rifts and major controversies faded into insignificance as the interment ceremonies commenced. The Ballad was magnificently performed. Then, cued by Ruth and Jaxom, the massed Weyrs appeared in the skies above Telgar. Robinton felt tears well up in his eyes, tears not only in reaction to the honor the massed Weyrs did Sallah Telgar, but in remembrance for the previous occasion, nearly twenty Turns before, when the five Lost Weyrs had reappeared in the Telgar skies to meet Threadfall with Benden's valiant wings. Today, Lessa's Ramoth and Telgar's senior queen dragon Solth carried between them the hammock containing Sallah's coffin. The sun glinted off the gold plate, trim, and handles, giving the impression that Rukbat itself was honoring the gallant woman and causing the throng to gasp in awe. Ranged above the two queens, the Weyrs formed seven sections in a close formation, wingtip to wingtip, that was a feat of wingmanship in itself.
The entire mass followed the two queens down, hovering as Ramoth and Solth delicately placed their burden on the bier, the hammock falling gracefully to either side. An honor escort of Holders stepped forward to bear the coffin the last few lengths to its final resting place.
The massed dragonriders swirled, each keeping its Weyr formation, and came to rest either on Telgar's fireheights or as a border to the assembled. Then Larad stepped forward, his sons behind him, as Aivas had confirmed that they were, indeed, the direct descendants of Sallah Telgar and Tarvi Andiyar.
"Let this be a day of rejoicing that this valiant lady has returned to the world she gave her life to protect. Let her rest now with others of the Blood in the Hold that bears her name and honors her above all its ancestors."
With those simple words, Larad stepped aside, and the coffin was lifted to the shoulders of the escort and carried in measured step toward the tomb. As the coffin was placed inside, the dragons, one and all, lifted their heads to keen. A heart-tearing sound on any occasion, but to Robinton, tears streaming down his face, the notes had an oddly triumphant ring. As if in response to that, an immense flurry of wings was heard, and what must have been every fire-lizard in the North and South, wild and tame, swooped down in a deep, wide aerial veil just above the heads of the escort, across the still open tomb, adding their high voices in counterpoint to the dragons' deeper tones. Then they swept up and, at the top of Telgar's precipice, abruptly disappeared.
Robinton had wondered where Zair had gone to, and only now realized that those around him who were usually adorned by a fire-lizard had had empty shoulders from the moment the massed dragon wings had appeared in the sky.
The escort, somewhat stunned by that final flourish to the solemn event, stepped back, and the Telgar masons, their Gather-best clothes protected by new aprons, moved forward to seal the opening.
In respectful silence-for even the youngest had been awed by the dragon and fire-lizard displays-the assembled waited until the tomb was completely closed and the masons stood aside. Larad and Jissamy moved together to face the tomb and bowed deeply, as did the escort. The obeisance was repeated by everyone present.
Then Larad, his lady, and the escort stepped back and proceeded toward the broad court of Telgar Hold. Domick's musicians began to play a solemn and majestic piece to signal the end of the ceremonies. They followed behind the last of the crowd dispersing to enjoy the hospitality of Telgar Hold.
Robinton was looking forward with great anticipation to tasting one of the roast beasts turning on the great spits, not to mention a fine vintage of Benden wine that he was certain Larad would provide him, when he felt a touch on his elbow.
"Robinton!" Jaxom said in a low voice, his eyes sparking with fury. "They tried to attack Aivas. Come!"
"Tried?" Robinton repeated, shocked. He simply couldn't comprehend what Jaxom had just said.
"Tried!" Jaxom repeated grimly, guiding Robinton by the elbow toward the edge of those sauntering along toward the court. "Farli brought just a scribble, so I know no more than that, but I for one can't stand about here."
"Nor I!" Nothing would settle Robinton's pounding heart until he saw with his own eyes that Aivas had suffered no damage. The very thought of being deprived of the knowledge they were daily gaining from the facility was enough to give him another heart attack. He also decided not to spread the information until he had reassured himself. Shards! He was getting old. Why had he not realized that today would be the perfect time to make a direct attack-when Landing was nearly deserted. Everyone who could come was up here in Telgar.
"Edge over further, Master Robinton. We're almost to Ruth now. We'll just get to Landing and see for ourselves. I don't think anyone should ruin this," Jaxom said, gesturing to indicate the festivities.
"Properly said, Lord Holder." Robinton moved with more alacrity to where Ruth had been edging toward them as inconspicuously as possible. No one would think it odd that Jaxom and the white dragon would offer to save Robinton the walk back to Telgar Hold court. So they mounted and Ruth, swinging upward and over Telgar cliff, abruptly went between.
The white dragon came out right above a clearing in front of the Aivas building. As Robinton and Jaxom made their way to the door, those crowding the entrance parted to let them through. Noting their expressions, the Harper was puzzled: anger would have been understandable; amusement was not.
Lytol was on duty that day-someone had to see that the students appeared for their scheduled courses-permitting D'ram and Robinton to attend the Telgar ceremony. He was sitting in his customary seat, but he wore a bandage on his head and his clothing was torn. Jancis and the Landing healer were in attendance, but she grinned reassuringly at the new arrivals.
"Don't worry! His skull's too hard to crack," she said gaily. With an expansive wave, she directed their attention down the corridor to Aivas. "And he's got a few tricks he never bothered to mention."
"Go look," Lytol said with a most uncharacteristic grin of pleased malice.
Robinton was first down the corridor; he stepped two strides in and stopped, causing Jaxom to bump into him. Standing guard were Piemur and six of the sturdiest students, hefty clubs held at the ready. Two of them wore head bandages. On the floor were the unconscious bodies of the attackers, the heavy axes or metal bars with which they had intended to wreak havoc on Aivas piled beyond reach.
"Aivas protects himself," Piemur said with a grin, swinging his club in a circle on its thong.
"What happened?" Robinton demanded.
"We were taking a meal break," Piemur said as Jancis joined him, "when we heard the most awful noise. We rushed back and found Lytol, Ker, and Miskin knocked down, and then this lot acting as if their brains were on fire. Which, from the residual sound we heard, is a fair description."
"But what-"
"This facility was provided with resources to prevent tampering," Aivas said, his voice reaching down the corridor. As matter-of-fact as the tone was, Robinton also sensed a faint note of satisfaction, certainly permissible, he thought, given the circumstances. "There are sounds that, emitted at volume, can render humans unconscious. When the intruders attacked Lytol, Ker, and Miskin, it seemed advisable to initiate this defensive measure. Regrettably, some permanent aural damage may re
sult, but most should regain consciousness within a few hours. They took more sonics than is-was-normally required in dissuasion."
"I-we-had no idea you had defences," Robinton said, struggling with both relief and surprise.
"A built-in feature of any Aivas, Master Robinton, though seldom required. These units are programmed with industrially and politically valuable information, which dissidents would find useful. Unauthorized access and/or destructive actions must, therefore, be actively discouraged, and this has always been a minor function of an Aivas facility."
"Well, I must say, I do feel better knowing that, but why didn't you tell us?"
"The question didn't arise."
"But you knew there'd been that attempt to ruin your battery power," Jaxom began.
"The facility was not in any danger from such crude vandalism. You were quick to provide effective measures against a repeat of such sabotage."
"But why didn't you do whatever you did today then? " Jaxom asked.
"Such measures are best invoked during a direct assault, when they are most effective."
"What exactly did you do?" Jaxom gestured to the limp bodies.
"Sonic barrage," Piemur said, grinning. "Pure and penetrating sound. Must have hurt." He gestured to one man who lay face-up wearing a contorted expression that suggested the pain he had endured before unconsciousness had relieved it. Piemur gave the body a contemptuous push with his toe. "I don't know where Norist got them."
"Norist?" Robinton exclaimed.
Piemur shrugged. "Has to be Norist. He's the one who's most vocal about destroying the 'Abomination.' And look..." He bent and lifted the limp hand of one of the attackers. "Those look like glass-pipe calluses, and he's certainly got old burn scars on his arms. He's the only one who has them. But once they wake up, we can ask a few questions. And get answers!" Piemur's voice took on a harsh edge.
"Who knows about this?" the Masterharper asked.
"Everyone presently in Landing," Piemur said with a shrug, and then grinned impishly. "Which isn't many, since everyone who could grabbed a dragonride to Telgar. How d that go?"
"Impressively," Robinton said almost absently as he moved to check the other would-be vandals. "The dragons and the firelizards accorded her their own tribute."
"Ruth didn't even warn me," Jaxom added with a wry grin.
It was fitting. The dragons were in agreement. The fire-lizards imitated them, but that was fitting, too, Ruth told Jaxom, who told the others.
Robinton didn't recognize a single face among the attackers. Gloomily he wondered if Norist had indeed planned and organized the assault. "Lytol's truly all right?" he asked in a low voice, glancing back toward the front entrance.
"He's got a terrible bump," Jancis said, "and the healer says he cracked a rib, falling on the edge of the desk, but his pride's more injured than his skull. You should have heard him complaining that Ker and Miskin were too slow on their feet to be of any assistance."
"Against eight men armed with axes and bars?" Robinton said, appalled at the possible harm such implements could have done to his friend, much less to Aivas. He found himself swaying a bit on his feet.
Immediately Piemur grabbed him, roaring at Jaxom to take the other side and ordering Jancis to get the healer and some wine, and they helped him into the nearest room- and into a chair. Protestingly, he flailed at their hands, but even to his own ears his voice held a quaver of weakness that appalled him.
"It's time to bespeak Lessa and F'lar," Jaxom said, "and I don't bloody care what excuse they give Larad. Ruth!"
As Robinton lifted a hand to object, Jaxom's expression told him that he had already given Ruth the message to forward. Jancis arrived with a huge mug of wine, which Robinton sipped gratefully while the healer fussed at him.
"The Masterharper has taken no harm; his vital signs are restored to acceptable levels," Aivas said. "Do not distress yourself, Master Robinton, for there has been no lasting harm done to humans and none to this facility."
"That is not the point, Aivas," Jaxom said, whirling around. "No harm should have been considered, much less attempted."
"The winds of change create a climate of resistance. That is to be expected."
"By you?" Jaxom asked, irritated by Aivas's imperturbability. Why hadn't they realized how ideal this day was to dissidents like Norist, who would have known that Robinton and D'ram would attend the honors done Sallah Telgar, that anyone who could grab a ride a-dragonback would be gone from Landing?
"And me. Ease up, lad," Lytol said, entering the room just then. "I figured an attempt might be made. That's why I made Ker and Miskin stay back. But I didn't think there'd be so many of 'em. Rushed us, and wed no chance." He looked keenly at Robinton. "Humpf. You look much the way I feel, Robinton." He lowered himself carefully into the nearest chair. "Master Esselin was with me at the time, but he fainted when that gang barged in. I hadn't thought to arm the students. They were nearby, and fifteen of 'em should have been sufficient deterrent."
Just then two of Esselin's young apprentice archivists came running down the corridor, shouting for Piemur.
"Quietly!" Piemur bellowed, then grimaced in apology.
"Harper, we found their runners, tied up in a copse just off the old sea road," the older lad reported. "Silfar and I rode a pair back after we'd moved 'em from where they was in case someone escaped. Trestan and Rona stayed 'cos Rona has a fire-lizard." His eyes were big in his flushed young face, and he was panting from excitement, as well as exertion. The eyes of the bronze fire-lizard clinging to his shoulder were whirling in violent patterns of red and orange.
"Well done, Deegan," Piemur said. "Have you winded your runners?"
"No, sir, Harper." Deegan's expression became indignant at the thought of injuring a valuable beast. "They're sweet movers. Cost a pouch or two for that sort of runner, sir."
"Send your bronze to reassure Rona and go back and bring in the others. We might find something interesting in their gear."
"All they had in their saddle packs was food, sir," Deegan added apologetically. "I looked, 'cos I thought there might be some clues."
Again Piemur nodded approval. "Off you go, then." He turned grimly to the others. "There're more in on this than Norist and his cranks. How'd expensive runners get south? Who put up the marks to buy eight and send 'em here?"
"Meaning a dissident Masterfisher is also involved?" Jaxom asked.
"That's the one craft that has not benefited very much from Aivas's stored information," Piemur said, frowning.
Robinton shook his head, but it was Lytol who spoke. "Not at all, Piemur. Master Idarolan was exceedingly grateful to Aivas for the detailed charts of depths and currents that Captain Tillek compiled. The overviews from space are truly astounding." Lytol paused in respectful awe, then shrugged. "Of course, there have been alterations in coastlines since then, but the accuracy of the charts makes it all that much easier to update them. Every master has been given copies, and specific area charts are being supplied to every fisherman. What Master Idarolan approves is accepted by every master of his craft."
"True enough," Piemur replied, but added in a sardonic tone, "though I can think of one or two extremely conservative and hidebound Masterfishers, without naming any names, who might sympathize with Norist's discontent. Look at how many people made it to Southern who weren't supposed to."
"A full purse can close many a mouth," Lytol added cynically.
"Let us not make rash assumptions," Robinton said.
"Lessa says it's impossible for either herself or F'lar to come," Jaxom reported at that point. "But F'nor can. The Weyrleaders're both livid and want to know how such an attack could occur."
One of the assault group stirred, moaning.
"We'll find out!" Jaxom and Piemur said simultaneously, and exchanged grimly determined glances.
"Might I suggest we tie these fellows up before they regain their wits?" Robinton asked, eyeing the sizes and comparing them to the slighter frames of
the student guards.
"Yes, and we've just the thing to hand." Piemur reached for a coil of thick flex, a savage grin on his face. "C'mon, you lot," he said, turning to the students, "let's truss these sharding dimwits up properly."
Once restraints were in place, each man's clothing was searched, but the exercise proved fruitless. Old scars, thick ears, and broken noses suggested that five of the eight had fought often. Only the one bore marks of the glass-smith craft, but the remaining two were equally rough livers.
"Swacky might know some of 'em," Piemur suggested. "He's been sergeant at arms in enough Holds over the Turns to know a lot of the regulars."
"They'd hardly pick men wed recognize, now would they?" Robinton said. "But if Swacky could identify any one of them, that might give us a direction for inquiry. Aivas, how long will they remain unconscious?"
Aivas said that the period was variable. "The duller the subject, the more sonic barrage is required. As you see, they survived to the very threshold."
"I don't like that at all," Robinton said explosively.
"However, they would not have passed the threshold," Aivas assured him.
Robinton shuddered and drank down the rest of his wine. "Let's get them out of the hall. Surely we have some secure building to hold them in. It's almost-almost obscene leaving them sprawled in the hallway like this."
"Assistance just arrived," Jaxom said.
They heard the bugling challenge of many dragons-F'nor, T'gellan, Mirrim, and nearly a full wing of Eastern Weyr riders.
"From now on there will be full dragon surveillance for Aivas," F'nor said when he had heard Lytol's concise report.
"Eastern insists on the honor," T'gellan said.
"I just wish it hadn't come to this," Robinton said, shaking his head wearily.
"My dear friend," Lytol said, placing a consoling hand on the Harper's shoulder, "it was bound to happen. You should have taken time to read the histories as I did. You would then have been better prepared for the cultural upheaval which is occurring in every Hold, Hall, and Weyr."
All The Weyrs of Pern Page 20
