Anne McCaffrey - Dragons Fire (The Dragonriders of Pern)

Dragons Blood

by Anne McCaffrey

with Todd McCaffrey

CHAPTER I

Sent from hold, sent from craft,

Whether old, whether daft.

Shunned for good into the wild

Father, mother, baby child.

HARPERHALL,

SECOND INTERVAL,

AFTER LANDING (AL) 490.3

Hes still waving, isnt he? Master Zist called back for the third time. He sat at the front of the wagon as it slowly drew away from the Harper Hall. The last of the winter snow covered the fields on either side of the track. Every now and then the wagon skidded as the workbeast lost his footing on the hard-packed icy snow and struggled to regain it.

Yes, he is, Cayla agreed, looking back out of the brightly painted wagon at the small figure slowly diminishing in the distance.

We couldnt bring him, Zist said regretfully. Hed be too obvious.

At least, Zist thought to himself, the lad was taking it better than he had when theyd first told him their plans.

Pellar had thrown a silent tantrum, had sprawled on the ground in the Harper Halls

courtyard, feet and fists hitting the ground in his outrage. He stopped only when Carissa had started howling in sympathy with him.

Shes crying for me, isnt she? he scrawled quickly on the slate that was never far from his hands.

Yes, I suppose she is, Cayla answered.

Pellar swiftly rubbed his slate clean and scrawled a new comment on it, thrusting it under Zists eyes. Are you taking her?

We have to, shes still nursing.

We want to know that youre safe, here, Cayla added.

Arent I part of your family? Pellar scrawled in response, tears streaming down his face.

Of course you are! Zist declared vociferously. And we need you, as a member of our family, to stay here out of trouble.

You are always part of our family, Pellar, Cayla said firmly.

Youve been part of our family since we first found you, ten Turns ago, Zist told him.

Then why cant I come? Pellar scrawled on his slate, his mouth working soundlessly in

emphasis.

Because we dont know who abandoned you, Zist told him, catching Pellars chin in his

hand and forcing the youngster to meet his eyes. It could be some who were Shunned. If you

come with us and they see you, theyll know that were not Shunned.

You could get in trouble then? Pellar wrote. Zist nodded. Pellar chewed his lip miserably,

shoulders shaking so hard with his unvoiced sobs that he could barely wipe his slate to write a

new message. Ill stay. No trouble for you.

Cayla read the note, thrust baby Carissa into Zists arms, and grabbed Pellar into a firm and

fierce hug.

Thats my boy, she said proudly, kissing the top of his head.

Ill be here when you get back, Pellar wrote.

I promise youll be the first to hear us return, Zist swore, freeing a hand to clap the boy on

the back.

Hes stopped waving, Cayla reported. Oh, dear! His shoulders are all slumped and he looks

so sad.

Zist blew out a misty breath and pulled on the reins controlling the workbeast, fighting with

himself not to turn the wagon back.

Murenny promised hed keep an eye on him, Cayla said, noting how the wagon had slowed.

And this was your idea.

Indeed, Zist agreed, his shoulders slumping in turn. I think its absolutely necessary that we

learn all we can about the Shunned

I dont disagree with you, Cayla interjected, lifting baby Carissa in her arms and rocking her

instinctively.

Thread will come again soon enough, and what then? Zist went on, repeating his reasons

needlessly. If there are enough Shunned, whats to stop them from overwhelming a hold or

craft hall?

Cayla didnt have to say a word to make her opinion of that clear; shed said enough before.

Well, even if they dont, what will they do when Thread comes again? Zist asked reflectively.

Its not right to condemn them all to a death no one on Pern should ever experience.

I know, love, I know, Cayla said soothingly, recognizing that her mate was working himself

into another passionate discourse. She knew from past discussions how vivid the image of

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Thread, falling mindlessly from the sky, devouring all life, searing all flesh, was engrained in

Zists mind from his reading. Weve discussed this, Murennys discussed this, and thats why

were here in this wagon, dressed like the Shunned

Do you think we should put an S on your head, too? Master Zist asked, pointing to the

purple-blue mark on his forehead.

No, Cayla said in a tone that brooked no argument. And youd best be right about how to

get that mark off.

Its not proper bluebush ink, Zist reminded her. The sap of the bluebush, used for marking

the Shunned, was indelible and permanently stained skin. Some pinesap, lots of hot water

and soap, and itll come off.

So youve said, Cayla remarked, sounding no more convinced.

In front, Zist noticed that the workbeast was slowing and flicked the reins to encourage it back

to a faster walk.

Well, Im glad youre with me, Zist told Cayla, after satisfying himself that they were moving

fast enough.

Im glad that we left Pellar behind, Cayla said. Ten Turns is too young to see the sights we

expect.

Indeed, Zist agreed.

Carissas so little that shell remember none of it, Cayla continued, half to answer Zists

unspoken thought, half to answer her own fears.

Therell be children among the Shunned, Zist remarked. Thats part of what makes it so

wrong.

Yes, Cayla agreed. She flicked a wisp of her honey-blond hair back behind her ear and

continued rocking little Carissa. Then she looked back again. Hes gone now.

Well be back in less than half a Turn, Zist said after a moment of thoughtful silence. Hell

be all right.

I hope hell forgive us, Cayla said.

Zist took the coast road south, toward Hold Gar, Southern Boll Hold, and warmer weather.

He and Cayla had guessed that the warmer climes would attract the Shunned, who would find

the harsh winters of the north harder to survive.

The road was still snow covered and never more than a pair of ruts running down along the

coastline. Even in the protected enclosure of the wagon, Cayla wrapped herself up tightly and

nuzzled little Carissa close to her side to keep them both warm. In front, perched on the

rattling bench seat, Zist had a thick wherhide blanket spread over his knees and layers of

warm thick-knit Tillek sweaters, the same as those used by the Tillek sailors because they kept

out the worst of the wet and cold even at sea. Even so, Zist was chilled to the bone every

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evening when they halted.

They were both relieved when they finally came upon the outskirts of Hold Gar.

Their reception by the holders was sharp and unpleasant.

Go away! shrieked the first old woman whose cothold they had stopped at, hoping to barter

for food. Would you have me Shunned, too?

She hurried them on their way by throwing stones and setting her dogs on them.

Go back north and freeze! Were hardworking folk down here, she yelled after them. You

wont find any handouts.

Zist shared a shaken look with Cayla who busily tried to comfort a bawling Carissa.

As they neared the next hold, Cayla glanced quickly at the S on Zists forehead. Maybe I

should go by myself, she suggested.

Bring the baby, Zist agreed. Ill tend the beast.

Carissa returned later, smiling and carrying a sack full of goods.