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Anne McCaffrey - Dragondrums (Harper Hall Trilogy)

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Anne McCaffrey Dragondrums (Harper Hall Trilogy)

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Of all the young singers at the Harperhall of Pern, Piemur was the one chosen for the leading role at Lord Groghes Gather...and then his voice broke. Suddenly his whole future at Harperhall became uncertain. But Masterharper Robinton, Menolly and Sebell had other plans for Piemur. They were sure that his quick wits and discretion could be used to keep a check on the troublesome Oldtimers and their strange traffic in fire lizards. So, whilst serving as a messanger-drum apprentice, Piemur carried out special errands for the three. And it was on one such errand that he realized his wildest dreams.

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Dragondrums

By Anne McCaffrey


Chapter One


The rumble-thud-boom of the big drums answering a mes sage 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 Mas terharper of Pern, or the arrivals and departures of Master Robinton himself, for he was surely one of the most impor tant 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 fire 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 re flected, 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 conti nent. 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 liz ard, 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 any thing 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, car ing 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 sum mons from a hungry Rocky.


When he saw that Camo was only just trudging up the steps outside the kitchen, clutching his bowl of scraps, Pie mur 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, cluttering 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.


"Camo feed pretties?" The kitchen drudge smiled brightly as Menolly and Piemur reached him.


"Camo feed pretties!" Menolly and Piemur spoke the customary reassurance in chorus, grinning at each other as they reached for handfuls of meat scraps. Rocky and Mimic took their accustomed perches on Piemur's shoul ders, while Lazy clung with far from indolent strength to his left forearm.


Once the fire lizards settled to the business of eating, Piemur glanced at Menolly, wondering if she'd heard the drum message. She looked more awake than she usually did at this hour, and slightly detached from her immediate task. Of course, she might just be thinking up a new song, but writing tunes was not Menolly's only duty in the Har per Hall.


As they fed the fire lizards, the rest of the Hall began to stir: the drudges in the kitchen were roused to breakfast efforts by Silvina and Abuna; in the junior and senior dormitories, occasional shouts punctuated random noises; and shutters on the journeyman's quarters were bemg opened to let in the fresh morning air.


Once the fire lizards had wheeled up for their morning stretch of wings, Piemur, Menolly and Camo separated: Camo, with a push from Menolly, was sent back to the kitchen; then she and Piemur went up the main steps of the Harper Hall to the dining room.


Piemur's first class that morning was chorus, for they were, as usual at this time of the Turn, rehearsing the spring music for Lord Groghe's feast. Master Domick had collaborated with Menolly this year and produced an un commonly singable score for his ballad about Lessa and her golden queen dragon, Ramoth.


Piemur was to sing the part of Lessa. For once, he didn't object to having to sing a female role. In fact, that morn ing he waited eagerly for the chorus to finish the passage before his first entrance. The moment came, he opened his mouth, and to his amazement no sound emerged.


"Wake up, Piemur," said Master Domick, irritably rap ping his stick on the music stand. He alerted the chorus.


"We'll repeat the measure before the entrance... if you're now ready, Piemur?"


Usually Piemur could ignore Master Domick's sarcasm, but since he had been ready to sing, he flushed uncer tainly. He took a breath and hummed against his closed teeth as the chorus began again. He had tone, and his throat wasn't sore, so he wasn't coming down with a stuffed head.


The chorus gave him his entrance again, and he opened his mouth. The sound that emerged ranged from one oc tave to another, neither of which were in the score he held.


A complete and awed silence fell. Master Domick frowned at Piemur, who was now swallowing against a fear that froze his feet to one spot and crept up his bones to his heart.

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