"This is what we know of the Southern Continent," Sebell said after a long interval while the dragonriders studied the map. "As you see, we still haven't managed to chart the entire coast, let alone the interior. This much has taken three full Turns of discreet survey to do."
"By whom?" Lessa inquired, now deeply interested. "By many people, myself included, N'ton, Toric's holders, but most of it by a young harper named Piemur."
"So that's what happened to him when his voice changed," Lessa said in surprise.
"By the scale of this map," F'lar said slowly, "you could fit the North of Pern in the western half of the Bay."
Sebell laid his left thumb on the protuberance of Southern and planted the rest of his hand, fingers splayed on the western section of the map. "This area could easily occupy the Lord Holders." He heard Lessa's sharp intake of breath and smiled at her, spreading his right hand over the eastern portion. "But this, Piemur tells me, is the best part of the South!"
"Near that mountain?" Lessa asked.
"Near that mountain!"
Piemur, leading Stupid while Farli circled above him, reappeared from the forest just as full dark was falling on the cove. He swung a plaited string of ripe fruit to the ground in front of Sharra.
"There! That's to make up for cutting out this morning," he said, a tentative grin on his face as he squatted on his haunches. "Stupid wasn't the only one scared of that mob this morning." He made a show of wiping his forehead. "I haven't seen that many people in… since the last gather I attended a South Boll. That was two Turns ago! I was afraid they'd never leave! They'll be back tomorrow?"
Jaxom grinned at his plaintive question and nodded. "I wasn't much better than you, Piemur. I got away by having to hunt. Then I tracked down that clutch and spent the afternoon rigging fishnet." He gestured toward the next cove.
Piemur nodded. "Funny thing that, not wanting to be among people. Felt as if I couldn't breathe with so many using the same air supply. And that's downright foolish." He looked about him, at the black bulks of supplies lining the cove. "We're not stuffed in a Hold, with fans going!" He shook his head. "Me, Piemur, harper, a social fellow. And I turn and run from people… faster than Stupid did!" He gave a snort of laughter.
"If it'll make you two feel any better, I was a bit overwhelmed myself," Sharra said. "Thank you for the fruit, Piemur. That… that horde ate all we had. I think there's some roast wherry left, and a few rib bones from the buck."
"I could eat Stupid, only he'd be too tough." Piemur breathed a sigh of relief and eased himself down to the sand.
Sharra chuckled as she went to get him something to eat.
"I don't like to think of a lot of people here," Jaxom told Piemur.
"Know what you mean." The young harper grinned. "Jaxom, do you realize that I've been places no man has ever stepped before? I've seen places that scared me to leaking, and other spots that I had trouble leaving because they were so beautiful." He exhaled in resignation. "Oh, well, I got there first." Suddenly he sat up, pointing urgently into the sky. "There they are! If only I had a far-viewer!"
"Who are?" Jaxom slewed himself around to see where Piemur was pointing, expecting dragonriders.
"The so-called Dawn Sisters. You can only see them dusk and dawn down here and much higher in the sky. See, those three very bright points! Many's the time I've used them as guides!"
Jaxom could scarcely miss the three stars, gleaming in an almost constant light. He wondered that he hadn't noticed them before now.
"They'll fade soon," Piemur said, "unless one of the moons is out. Then you see them again just before dawn. Must ask Wansor about that when I see him. They don't act like proper stars. The Starsmith's not scheduled to come down and help build the Harper's hold, is he?"
"He's about the only one who isn't," Jaxom replied. "Cheer up, Piemur. The way they worked today, it won't take long to finish that hold. And what do you mean about the Dawn Sisters?"
"They just don't act like proper stars. Didn't you ever notice?"
"No. But we've been in most evenings and certainly every dawn."
Piemur pointed with several stabs of his right arm at the Dawn Sisters. "Most stars change position. They never do."
"Sure they do. In Ruatha they're almost invisible on the horizon…"
Piemur was shaking his head. "They're constant. That's what I mean. Every season I've been here, they're always in the same place."
"Can't be! It's impossible. Wansor says that stars have routes in the sky just like-"
"They stay still! They're always in the same position."
"And I tell you that's impossible."
"What's impossible? And don't snarl at each other," Sharra said, returning with a tray piled high with food and a wineskin slung over her shoulder. Giving Piemur the food, she filled cups all around.
Piemur guffawed as he reached for a buck rib. "Well, I'm going to send a message to Wansor. I say it's bloody peculiar behavior for stars!"
A change in the breeze awakened the Master Harper. Zair chirped softly, curled on the pillows above Robinton's ear. A sunscreen had been rigged above the Harper's head but it was the airless heat that roused him.
For a change, no one was seated in watch over him. The respite of surveillance pleased him. He had been touched by the concern of everyone, though at times the attention bade fair to smother him. He'd curbed his impatience. He had no choice. Too weak and tired to resist the ministrations. Today must be another small indication of his general improvement: leaving him alone. He reveled in the solitude. Before him, the jib sheet flapped idly and he could hear the mainsail, behind him-aft, he corrected himself abruptly-rumbling windless as well. The gentle rolling swells seemed to be all that drove the ship forward. Waves, curls of foam on their crests, were mesmeric in their rhythm and he had to shake his head sharply to break their fascination. He raised his glance above the swell and saw nothing but water, as usual, on all sides. They would not see land for days more, he knew, though Master Idarolan said they were making good speed on their southeasterly course now that they had picked up the Great South Current.
The Master Fisherman was as pleased with this expedition as everyone else connected with it. Robinton snorted to himself with amusement. Everyone else apparently was profiting by his illness.
Now, now, Robinton chided himself, don't be sour. Why did you spend so much time training Sebell if not to take over when it became necessary? Only, Robinton thought, he hadn't ever expected that to happen. He wondered fleetingly if Menolly was faithfully reporting the daily messages from Sebell. She and Brekke could well be conspiring to keep any worrying problem from him.
Zair stroked his cheek with his soft head. Zair was the best humor-vane a man could have. The fire-lizard knew, with an instinct that outshone his own reliable sense of atmosphere, the emotional climate of those about Robinton.
He wished he could throw off this languor and use the journey time to good effect-catching up on Craft business, on those songs he had in mind to write, on any number of long-delayed projects that the press of immediate concerns had pushed further and further from completion. But Robinton had no ambition at all; he found himself content to lie on the deck of Master Idarolan's swift ship and do nothing. The Dawn Sister, that's what Idarolan called her. Pretty name. That reminded turn. He must borrow the Fisherman's far-viewer this evening. There was something odd about those Dawn Sisters. They were visible, higher up than they ought to be, in the sky at dusk as well as dawn. Not that he'd been allowed to be awake at dawn to check. But they were mostly in the sky at sunset. He didn't think that stars should act that way. He must remember to write Wansor a note.