Anne McCaffrey - Pern 03 Dragonsong

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Foreword

Rukbat, in the Sagittarian Sector, was a golden G-type star. It had five

planets, two asteroid belts, and a stray planet it haft attracted and held in

recent millennia. When men first settled on Rukbaf s third world and called it

Pern, they had taken little notice of the stranger planet, swinging about its

adopted primary in a wildly erratic elliptical orbit. For two generations, the

colonists gave the bright red star little thought, until the path of the

wanderer brought it close to its stepsister at perihelion.

Then, the spore life, which proliferated at an incredible rate on the Red

Star's wild surface, spun off into space and bridged the gap to Pern. The

spores fell as thin threads on the temperate, hospitable planet, and devoured

anything organic in their way, seeking to establish burrows in Pern's warm

earth from which to set out more voracious Threads.

The colonists suffered staggering losses in terms of people scored to death,

and in crops and vegetation wiped out completely. Only fire killed Thread on

land: only stone and metal stopped its progress. Fortunately it drowned in

water, but the colonists could scarcely live on the seas.

The resourceful men cannibalized their transport ships and, abandoning the

open southern continent where they had touched down, set about making the

natural caves in the northern continent habitable. They evolved a two-phase

plan to combat Thread. The first

phase involved breeding a highly specialized variety of a life-form indigenous

to their new world. The "dragons" (named for the mythical Terran beast they

resembled) had two extremely useful characteristics: they could get from one

place to another instantly by tele-portation, and when they had chewed a

phosphine-bearing rock, they could emit a flaming gas. Thus the flying dragons

could char Thread to ash midair and escape its ravages themselves.

Men and women with high empathy ratings or some innate telepathic ability were

trained to use and preserve these unusual animals, partnering them in a

lifelong and intimate relationship.

The original cave-Fort, constructed in the eastern face of the great West

Mountain range, soon became too small to hold either the colonists or the

great "dragons." Another settlement was started slightly to the north, by a

great lake, conveniently nestled near a cave-filled cliff. Ruatha Hold, too,

became overcrowded in a few generations.

Since the Red Star rose in the East, it was decided to start a holding in the

eastern mountains, provided suitable accommodations could be found. The

ancient cave-pocked cones of extinct volcanoes in the Benden mountains proved

so suitable to the dragonmen and women that they searched and found several

more throughout Pern, and left Fort Hold and Ruatha Hold for the pastoral

colonists, the holders.

However, such projects took the last of the fuel for the great stonecutters,

originally thought to be used for the most diffident mining since Pern was

light on metals, and any subsequent holds and weyrs were Hand-hewn.

The dragons and their riders in their weyrs, and the people in the cave

holdings, went about their separate tasks and each developed habits that

became custom, which solidified into tradition as incontrovertible as law.

By the Third Pass of the Red Star, a complicated so-

cial, political and economic structure had developed to deal with the

recurrent evil of Thread. There were now six Weyrs, pledged to protect all

Pern, each Weyr having a geographical section of the northern continent

literally under its wings. The rest of the population, the Holds, agreed to

tithe to support the Weyrs, since these fighters, these dragonmen, did not

have any arable land in their volcanic homes, nor did they have time for

fanning while protecting the planet from Passes of the Thread.

Holds developed wherever natural caves could be found: some, of course, were

extensive or strategically placed near good water and grazing, others were

smaller and less well placed. It took a strong man to keep frantic, terrified

people in control in the Holds during Thread attacks: it took wise

administration to conserve food supplies for times when nothing could be

safely grown. Extraordinary measures controlled population, keeping its number

healthy and useful until such time as the Thread should pass. And often

children from one Hold were raised in another Hold, to spread the generic pool

and keep the Holds from dangerous inbreeding. Such a practice was called

"fostering" and was used in both Hold and Crafthalls, where special skills

such as metalworking, animal breeding, farming, fishing and mining (such as

there was) were preserved. So that one Lord Holder could not deny the products

of a Crafthall situated in his Hold to others, the Crafts were decreed

independent of a Hold affiliation, each Craftsmaster at a hall owing

allegiance only to the Master of that particular craft who, as the need arose,

took likely students in as fosterlings.

Except for the return of the Red Star approximately every two hundred years,

life was pleasant on Pern.

There came a time when the Red Star, due to the conjunction of Rukbar's five

natural satellites, did not pass close enough to Pern to drop the dreadful

spores. And the Pernese forgot about the danger. The people prospered,

spreading out across the rich land, carving

more Holds out of solid rock and becoming so busy with their pursuits, that

they did not realize that there were only a few dragons hi the skies, and only

one Weyr of dragonriders left on Pern. In a few generations, the descendants

of the Holders began to wonder if the Red Star would ever return. The

dragonriders fell into disfavor: why should all Pern support these people and

their hungry beasts? The legends of past braveries, and the very reason for

such courage, became dishonored.

But, in the natural course of events, the Red Star again spun close to Pern,

winking with a baleful red eye on its intended victim. One man, FTar, rider of

the bronze dragon, Mnementh, believed that the ancient tales had truth in

them. His half brother, Fnor, rider of brown Canth, listened to his arguments

and came to believe. When the last golden egg of a dying queen dragon lay

hardening on the Benden Weyr Hatching Ground, Flar and Fnor seized the

opportunity to gain control of the Weyr. Searching Ruatha Hold, they found a

strong woman, Lessa, the only surviving member of the proud bloodline of

Ruatha Hold. She impressed young Ramoth, the new queen, and became Weyrwoman

of Benden Weyr. And Flares bronze Mnementh became the new queen's mate.

The three young riders, FTar, Fnor and Lessa forced the Lord Holders and the

Craftsmen to recognize their imminent danger and prepare the almost

defenseless planet against TTiread. But it was distressingly obvious that the

scant two hundred dragons of Benden Weyr could not defend the wide-spread and

sprawling settlements. Six full Weyrs had been needed in the olden days when

the settled land had been much less extensive. In learning to direct her queen

between one place and another, Lessa discovered that dragons could tele-port

between times as well. Risking her life as well as Pern's only queen, Lessa

and Ramoth went back in time, four hundred Turns, to the days before the

mysterious disappearance of the other five Weyrs, just after the last Pass of

the Red Star had been completed.

xfi

The five Weyrs, seeing only the decline of their prestige and bored with

inactivity after a lifetime of exciting combat, agreed to help Lessa, and

Pern, and came forward to her time.

Drdgonsong begins seven Turns after the Five Weyrs came forward.

Kill

Cnapter 1

Drummer, beat, and piper, blow Harper, strike, and soldier, go Free the flame

and sear the grasses Tfl the dawning Red Star passes.

Almost as if the elements, too, mourned the death of the gentle old Harper, a

southeaster blew for three days, locking even the burial barge in the safety

of the Dock Cavern.

The storm gave Sea Holder Yanus too much time to brood over his dflemma. It

gave him time to speak to every man who could keep rhythm and pitch, and they

aH give him the same answer. TTiey couldn't properly honor the Old Harper with

his deathsong, but Menolly could.

To which answer Yanus would grunt and stamp off. It rankled in his mind that

he couldn't give voice to his dissatisfaction with that answer, and his

frustration. Menolly was only a girl: too tall and lanky to be a proper girl

at that It galled him to have to admit that; unfortunately, she was the only

person in the entire Half-Circle Sea Hold who could play any instrument as

well as the old Harper. Her voice was true, her fingers clever on string,

stick or pipe, and she knew the Death-song. For all Yanus could be certain,

the aggravating child had been practicing that song ever since old Fetiron

started burning with his fatal fever.

"She will have to do the honor, Yanus," his wife, Mavi, told him the evening

the storm began to slacken. "The important thing is that Petiron is properly

sung to rest. One does not have to record who did the singing."

'The old man knew he was dying. Why didn't he instruct one of the men?"

"Because," replied Mavi with a touch of sharpness in her voice, "you would

never spare him a man when there was fishing."

"There was young Tranflty..."

"Whom you sent fostering to Ista Sea Hold."

"Couldn't that young lad of Forolt's..."

"His voice is changing. Come, Yanus, if 11 have to be

Menolly."

Yanus grumbled bitterly against the inevitable as he climbed into the sleeping

furs.

"That's what everyone else has told you, haven't they? So why make so much of

a necessity?"

Yanus settled himself, resigned.

"The fishing wffl be good tomorrow," his wife said, yawning. She preferred him

fishing to stomping around the Hold, sullen and critical with enforced

inactivity. She knew he was the finest Sea Holder Half-Circle had ever had:

the Hold was prospering, with plenty for bartering set by in the storage

caves; they hadn't lost a ship or a man in several Turns either, which said

much for his weather-wisdom. But Yanus, at home on a heaving deck in foul

weather, was very much adrift when taxed with the unexpected on land.

Mavi was keenly aware that Yanus was displeased with his youngest child. Mavi

found the girl exasperating, too. Menolly worked hard and was very clever with

her fingers: too clever by half when it came to playing any instrument in the

Harper Craft Perhaps, Mavi thought, she had not been wise to permit the girl

to linger in the old Harper's constant company once she had learned all the

proper Teaching Songs. But it had been one less worry to let Menolly nurse the

old

Harper, and Petiron had wished it. No one begrudged a Harper's requests. Ah

weH, thought Mavi, dismissing the past, there'd be a new Harper soon, and

Menolly could be put to tasks proper to a young girl

The next morning, the storm had cleared off: the skies were cloudless, the

sea, calm. The burial barge had been outfitted in the Dock Cavern, Petiron's

body wrapped in harper-blue on the tilter board. The entire Fleet and most of

the Seahold followed in the wake of the oar-driven barge, out into the faster

moving current above Nerat Deep.

Menolly, on the barge prow, sang the elegy: her clear strong voice carrying

back to the Half-Circle Fleet; the men chanting the descant as they rowed the

barge.

On the final chord, Petiron went to his rest. Menolly bowed her head, and let

drum and stick slide from her ringers into the sea. How could she ever use

them again when they had beaten Petiron's last song? She'd held back her tears

since the Harper had died because she knew she had to be able to sing his

elegy and you couldn't sing with a throat closed from crying. Now the tears

ran down her cheeks, mingled with sea spray: her sobs punctuated by the soft

chant of the steersman, setting about

Petiron had been her friend, her ally and mentor. She had sung from the heart

as he'd taught her: from the heart and the gut Had he heard her song where he

had gone?

She raised her eyes to the palisades of the coast: to the white-sanded harbor

between the two arms of Half-Circle Hold. The sky had wept itself out in the

past three days: a fitting tribute. And the air was cold. She shivered in her

thick wherhide jacket. She would have some protection from the wind if she

stepped down into the cockpit with the oarsmen. But she couldn't move. Honor

was always accompanied by responsibility, and it was fitting for her to remain

where she was until the burial barge touched the stones of Dock Cavern.

Half-Circle Hold would be lonelier than ever for her now. Petiron had tried so

hard to live long enough for his replacement to arrive. He'd told Menofly he

wouldn't last the winter. He'd dispatched a message to Masterharper Robinton

to send a new Harper as soon as possible. He'd also told Menolly that he'd

sent two of her songs to the Masterharper.

'Women can't be harpers," she'd said to Petiron, astonished and awed.

"One in ten hundred have perfect pitch," Petiron had said in one of his

evasive replies. "One in ten thousand can build an acceptable melody with

meaningful words. Were you only a lad, there'd be no problem at all."

"Well, we're stuck with me being a girl." "You'd make a fine big strong lad,

you would," Petiron had replied exasperatingly.

"And what"s wrong with being a fine big strong girl?' Menolly had been

half-teasing, half-annoyed.

"Nothing, surely. Nothing." And Petiron had patted her hands, smiling up at

her.

She'd been helping him eat his dinner, his hands so crippled even the lightest

wooden spoon left terrible ridges in the swollen fingers.

"And Masterharper Robinton's a fair man. No one on Pern can say he isn't And

hell listen to me. He knows his duty, and I am, after all, a senior member of

the CrafthaH, being taught up in the Craft before him himself. And I'll

require him to listen to you."

"Have you really sent him those songs you made me wax down on slates?" "I

have. Sure I have done that much for you, dear

child."

He'd been so emphatic that Menolly had to believe that he'd done what he'd

said. Poor old Petiron. In the last months, he'd not remembered the time of

Turn much less what he'd done the day before.

He was timeless now, Menolly told herself, her wet

cheeks stinging with cold, and she'd never forget him.

The shadow of the two arms of Half-Circle's cliffs fell across her face. The

barge was entering the home harbor. She lifted her head. High above, she saw

the diminutive outline of a dragon in the sky. How lovelyl And how had Benden

Weyr known? No, the dragon-rider was only doing a routine sweep. With Thread

falling at unexpected times, dragons were often flying above Half-Circle,

isolated as it was by the bogs at the top of Nerat Bay. No matter, the dragon

was awing above Half-Circle Hold at this appropriate moment and that was, to

Menolly, the final tribute to Petiron the Harper.

The men lifted the heavy oars out of the water, and the barge glided slowly to

its mooring at the far end of the Dock. Fort and Tillefc might boast of being

the oldest Sea-Holds, but only Half-Circle had a cavern big enough to dock the

entire fishing fleet and keep it safe from Threadfall and weather.

Dock Cavern had moorings for thirty boats; storage space for all the nets,

traps and lines; airing racks tor sail; and a shallow ledge where hulls could

be scraped free of seagrowths and repaired. At the very end of the immense

Cavern was a shelf of rock where the Hold's builders worked when there was

sufficient timber for a new hull. Beyond was the small inner cave where

priceless wood was stored, dried on high racks or warped into frames.

The burial barge lightly touched its pier.

"Menolly?" The first oarsman held out a hand to her.

Startled by the unexpected courtesy to a girl her age, she was about to jump

down when she saw in his eyes the respect due her at this moment. And his

hand, closing on hers, gave silent approval for her singing of the Harper's

elegy. The other men stood, too, waiting for her to disembark first. She

straightened her shoulders, although her throat felt tight enough for more

tears,

and she stepped proudly down to the solid stone.

As she turned to walk back to the landside of the Cavern, she saw that the

other boats were discharging their passengers quickly and quietly. Her

father's boat, the biggest of the Half-Circle fleet, had already tacked back

into the harbor. Yanus's voice carried across the water, above the incidental

sounds of creaking boats and muted voices.

"Quickly now, men. We've a good breeze rising and the fishll be biting after

three days of storm."

The oarsmen, hurried past her, to board their assigned fishing boats. It

seemed unfair to Menolly that Petiron, after a long life's dedication to

Half-Circle Hold, was dismissed so quickly from everyone's mind. And yet...

life did go on. There were fish to be caught against winter's hungry months.

Fair days during the cold months of the Turn were not to be squandered.

She quickened her pace. She'd far to go around the rim of the Dock Cavern and

she was cold. Menolly also wanted to get into the Hold before her mother

noticed that she didn't have the drum. Waste wasn't tolerated by Mavi any more

than idleness by Yanus.

While this was an occasion, it had been a sad one and the women and children

and also the men too old to sea-fish observed a decorous pace out of the

Cavern, making smaller groups as they headed towards their own Holds in the

southern arc of Half-Circle's sheltering palisade.

Menolly saw Mavi organizing the children into work groups. With no Harper to

lead them in the Teaching Songs and ballads, the children would be kept

occupied in clearing Hie storm debris from the white-sanded beaches.

There might be sun in the sky, and the dragonrider still circling on his

brown, but the wind was frigid and Menolly began to shiver violently. She

wanted to feel the warmth of the fire on the great Hold's kitchen hearth and a

cup of hot klah inside her.

She heard her sister Sella's voice carrying to her on the breeze.

"She's got nothing to do now, Mavi, why do I have to...."

Menolly ducked behind a group of adults, avoiding her mother's searching

glance. Trust Sella to remember that Menolly no longer had the excuse of

nursing the ailing Harper. Ahead of her, one of the old aunts tripped, her

querulous voice raised in a cry for help, Menolly sprinted to her side,

supporting her and receiving loud protestations of gratitude.

"Only for Petiron would I have dragged these old bones out on the cold sea

this morning. Bless the man, rest the man," the old woman went on, clinging

with unexpected strength to Menolly. "You're a good chfld, Menolly, so you

are. It is Menolly, isn't it?" The old one peered up at her. "Now you just

give me a hand up to Old Uncle and HI tell him the whole of it, since he

hasn't legs to leave his bed."

So Sella had to supervise the children and Menolly got to the fire: at least

long enough to stop shivering. Then old auntie would have it that the Uncle

would be grateful for some klah, too, so when Mavi entered her kitchen, her

eyes searching for her youngest daughter, she found Menolly dutifully occupied

serving the oldster.

"Very well then, Menolly, while you're up there, see that you set the old man

comfortably. Then you can start on the glows."

Menolly had her warming cup with the Old Uncle and left him comfortable,

mournfully exchanging tales of other burials with the aunt Checking the glows

had been her task ever since she had grown taller than Selk. It had meant

climbing up and down the different levels to the inner and outer layers of the

huge Sea Hold, but Menolly had established the quickest way to finish the job

so that she'd have some free time to herself before Mavi started looking for

her. She had been

accustomed to spending those earned minutes practicing with the Harper. So

Menolly was not surprised to find herself, eventually, outside Petiron's door.

She was surprised, however, to hear voices in his room. She was about to

charge angrily through the half-open door and demand an accounting when she

heard her mother's voice clearly.

TTie room won't need much fixing for the new Harper, so it won't"

Menolly stepped back into the shadow of the corridor. The new Harper?

"What I want to know, Mavi, is who is to keep the children up in their

learning until he comes?" That voice was Soreel's, the wife of the First

Holder and therefore spokeswoman for the other Hold women to Mavi as Sea

Holder's lady. "She did well enough this morning. You have to give her that^

Mavi"

"Yanus will send the message ship."

"Not today, nor tomorrow he won't. I don't fault Sea Holder, Mavi, but it

stands to reason that the boats must fish and the sloop's crew can't be

spared. That means four, five days before the messenger gets to Igen Hold.

From Igen Hold, if a dragonrider obliges by carrying the message--but we all

know what the Old-timers at Igen Weyr are like so let's say, Harper drums to

the Masterharper Hafl at Fort is another two-three days. A man has to be

selected by Masterharper Robin-ton and sent overland and by ship. And with

Thread falling any time it pleases, no one travels fast or far in a day. If 11

be spring before we see another Harper. Are the children to be left without

teaching for months?"

Soreel had punctuated her comments with brushing sounds, and there were other

clatters in the room, the swishing of bed rushes being gathered up. Now

Menolly could hear the murmur of two other voices supporting Soreel's

arguments.

Tetiron has taught well..."

He taught her well, too," Soreel interrupted Mavi. "Harpering is a man's

occupation..."

"Fair enough if Sea HoIderTl spare a man for it" Soreel's voice was almost

belligerent because everyone knew the answer to that "Truth be told, I think

the girl knew the Sagas better than the old man this past Turn. You know his

mind was ranging back in time, Mavi"

"Yanus will do whats proper," The finality in MavTs tone firmly ended that

discussion.

Menolly heard footsteps crossing the old Harper's room, and she ducked down

the hall, around the nearest bend and down into the kitchen level.

It distressed Menolly to think of anyone, even another Harper, in Petiron's

room. Obviously it distressed others that there was no Harper. Usually such a

problem didn't arise. Every Hold could boast one or two musically able men and

every Hold took pride in encouraging these talents. Harpers liked to have

other instrumentalists to share the chore of entertaining their Holds during

the long winter evenings. And it was also the better part of wisdom to have a

substitute available for just such an emergency as Half-Circle was

experiencing. But fishing was hard on the hands: the heavy work, the cold

water, the salt and fish oils thickened joints and calloused fingers in the

wrong places. Fishermen were often away many days on longer hauls. After a

Turn or two at net, trap and sail line, young men lost their skill at playing

anything but simple tunes. Harper Teaching Ballads required deft quick fingers

and constant practice.

By putting to sea to fish so quickly after the old Harper's burial, Yanus

thought to have time enough to find an alternative solution. There was no

doubt that the girl could sing well, play weH, and she'd not disgraced Hold or

Harper that morning. It was going to take time to send for and receive a new

Harper, and the youngsters must not lose all progress in the learning of the

basic Teaching Ballads.

But Yanus had many strong reservations about putting such a heavy

responsibility on the shoulders of a

girl not fifteen Turns old. Not the least of these was MenoHy's distressing

tendency toward tone-making. Well enough and amusing now and again in the long

winter evenings to hear her sing them, but old Petiron had been alive to keep

her to rights. Yanus wasn't sore that he could trust her not to include her

trivial little whistles in the lessons. How were the young to know that hers

weren't proper songs for their learning? The trouble was, her melodies were

the sort that stayed in the mind so a man found himself humming or whistling

them without meaning to.

By the time the boats had profitably trawled the Deep and tacked for home,

Yanus had found no compromise. It was no consolation to know that he wouldn't

have any argument from the other holders. Had Me-noDy sung poorly that morning

... but she hadn't. As Sea Holder for Half-Circle, he was obliged to bring up

the young of the Hold in the traditions of Pern: knowing their duty and how to

do it He counted himself very lucky to be beholden to Benden Weyr, to have

Flar, bronze Mnementh's rider, as Weyrleader and Lessa as Ramoth's Weyrwoman.

So Yanus felt deeply obliged to keep tradition at Half-Circle: and the young

would learn what they needed to know, even if a girl had the teaching.

That evening, after the day's catch had been salted down, he instructed Mavi

to bring her daughter to the small room off the Great HaQ where he conducted

Hold business and where the Records were stored. Mavi had put the Harper's

instruments on the mantel for safekeeping.

Appropriately Yanus handed MenoDy Petiron's gitar. She took the instrument in

a properly reverential manner, which reassured Yanus that she appreciated the

responsibility.

"Tomorrow you'll be excused from your regular morning duties to take the

youngsters for their teaching," he told her. "But I'll have no more of those

finger-twidtDings of yours."

"I sang my songs when Petiron was alive and you never minded them..."

Yanus frowned down at his tall daughter.

"Petiron was alive. He's dead now, and youll obey me in this.,."

Over her father's shoulders, MenoHy saw her mother's frowning face, saw her

warning headshake and held back a quick reply.

You bear in mind what I've saidl" And Yanus fingered the wide belt he wore.

"No tuningl"

"Yes, Yanus."

"Start tomorrow then. Unless, of course, there's ThreadfaD, and then everyone

wfll bait longlines."

Yanus dismissed the two women and began to compose a message to the

Masterharper to go when he could next spare the sloop's crew. They'd sail it

to Igen Hold. About time Half-Circle had some news of the rest of Pern anyway.

And he could ship some of the smoked fish. The journey needn't be a wasted

trip.

Once in the hallway, Mavi gripped her daughter's arm hard. "Don't disobey him,

girl"

'There's no harm in my tunes, mother. You know what Petiron said..."

<TH remind you that the old man's dead. And that changes everything that went

on during his life. Behave yourself while you stand in a man's place. No

tuningl To bed now, and mind you turn the glowbaskets. No sense wasting light

no eye needs."

Chapter

Honor those the dragons heed In thought and favor, word and deed. Worlds are

lost or worlds are saved From those dangers dragon-braved.

Dragonman, avoid excess: Greed wfll bring the Weyr distress: To the ancient

Law adhere, Prospers thus the Dragonweyr.

It was easy enough, at first, for Menolly to forget her tuning during the

Teachings. She wanted to do Petiron proud so that when the new Harper came,

he'd find no fault in the children's recitations. The children, were

attentive: the Teaching was always better then gutting and preserving fish, or

net mending, and longUne baiting. Then, too, winter storms, the severest in

many Turns, kept the fishing fleet docked and the Teaching eased the boredom.

When the fleet was in, Yamis would stop by the Little Hall where Menolly held

her class. He'd scowl at her from the back of the Hall. Fortunately, heM only

stay a little while because he made the children nervous. Once she actually

saw his foot tapping the beat; he scowled when he realized what he was doing

and then he left

He had sent the message sloop to Igen Hold three

days after the burial The crew brought back news of no interest to Menolly but

the adults went around looking black: something about the Oldtimers and

Menolly wasn't to worry her head, so she didn't. The crew also brought back a

message slate addressed to Petiron and signed with the imprint of Masterharper

Robinton.

"Poor old Petiron," one of the aunties told Menolly, sighing and dabbing

affectedly at her eyes. "He always looked forward to slates from Masterharper.

Ah well, ifH keep til the new Harper comes. He'll know what to do with it"

It took Menolly a while to find out where the slate was: propped up

conspicuously on the mantel in her father's Records room. Menolly was positive

that the message had something to do with her, with the songs that Petiron had

said he'd sent to the Masterharper. The notion so obsessed her that she got

bold enough to ask her mother why Yanus didn't open the message.

"Open a sealed message from the Masterharper to a man dead?" Mavi stared at

her daughter in shocked incredulity. "Your father would do no such thing.

Harpers' letters are for Harpers."

I only remembered that Petiron had sent a slate to the Masterharper. I thought

it might be about a replacement coming. I mean..."

Tfl be glad when the new Harper does come, m'girl. You've been getting above

yourself with this Teaching."

Hie next tew days were full of apprehension for Me-nofly: she conceived the

idea that her mother would make Yanus replace her as Teacher. That was, of

course, impossible for the same reasons that had forced Yanus to make her the

teacher in the first place. But it was a fact that Mavi found all the

smelliest, most boring or tedious jobs for Menolly once her teaching duty was

done. And Yanus took it into his head to appear in the little Hall more

frequently.

Then the weather settled down into a clear spell and the entire Sea Hold was

kept at a run with fish. The

children were excused from the Teaching to gather seaweeds blown up by the

high tides and all the Hold women set to boiling the weed for the thick juice

in the stalks: juice that kept back many sicknesses and bone ailments. Or so

the old aunties said. But they'd find good out of any bad and the worst of any

blessing. And the worst of the seaweed was its smell, thought Menolly, who had

to stir the huge kettles.

Threadfalls came and added some excitement: the fear in being Holdbound while

the dragons swept the skies with their fiery breath, charring Thread to

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ForewordRukbat,intheSagittarianSector,wasagoldenG-typestar.Ithadfiveplanets,twoasteroidbelts,andastrayplanetithaftattractedandheldinrecentmillennia.WhenmenfirstsettledonRukbafsthirdworldandcalleditPern,theyhadtakenlittlenoticeofthestrangerplanet,swingingaboutitsadoptedprimaryinawildlyerraticelliptic...

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Anne McCaffrey - Pern 03 Dragonsong.pdf

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Anne McCaffrey - Pern 03 Dragonsong

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