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."
"I had hoped that Aivas would insure a bright future for us all..." Robinton began, raising his arms in an expansive gesture before letting them fall limply to his knees.
"That's because you're the eternal optimist," Lytol said with a sad smile.
"That's no bad way to be," Piemur said firmly, shooting Lytol a quelling glare. It pained the young journeyman to see his master so depressed and listless. The warder shrugged and turned away to hide his cynicism.
T'gellan dispatched a rider to bring Swacky from Paradise River Hold in the hope that he might recognize one of the intruders. Jayge, reckoning that he, too, might be of some help since he had seen so much of the Eastern Holds during his trading days, arrived with Swacky.
"Yeah, I recognize this pair," Swacky said, reaching out to turn one lolling head from side to side. "Bitrans, if I remember rightly. Bitrans'll do anything if you give 'em enough marks."
"Any name come to mind, Swacky?" F'nor asked, frowning.
Swacky gave a shrug of his thick shoulders. "No. Bitrans aren't friendly, and I don't think you're going to get much out of this lot. They're too stubborn to give in and too stupid to give up. They do stay bought," he added with grudging respect.
Jayge, kneeling by another man, shook his head. "I know him. I don't know where I know him from. I'll tell you one thing, though-he's worked fishnets. Look at these three-corner tears on his fingers and palms. That's net damage."
Robinton heaved a long sigh, and Lytol looked grimmer than ever.
When the first of them finally regained consciousness late that evening, he stared around with bleak panic in his face; it soon became obvious that he had lost his hearing. To written questions he merely shook his head. Consultations between Aivas and the healer about a return of hearing produced no helpful results.
"As a consequence to the extreme deterrent required to prevent their entry, regrettably permanent damage may have been inflicted," Aivas said.
When the vandals' animals were brought in, none of the gear identified its source. The saddles were new but bore no leatherman's stamp; the runners were not ear-notched or branded and betrayed the nervousness of very green animals.
"Probably stolen from Keroon or Telgar herds before spring culls" was the opinion of Masterherder Briaret, who came the next day to assist in the inquiry. "Whoever chose them knew his runners and picked those that don't show any particular characteristics from sire or dam. They was rough broke," he added, looking into the mouth of one and pointing out biting scars, "never been shod, and came by sea." He indicated the marks on hips, rumps, and shoulders that had been caused by rubbing against the sides of the narrow stalls used to transport animals by ship. "Don't think we'll find out where they was stolen from, but I'll put the word out to my Halls."