'You know the law regarding murder, Fax,' Tarathel replied.
'There is no recourse if a dragonrider has been slain. C'gan, since you have--'
'There's been no trial,' Fax said.
'Since when did you reinstate trials?' Tarathel said ominously, his hand going to his knife hilt. 'I am Lord Holder here. The death occurred on my lands and at my Gather. I judge your man guilty of unprovoked attack: first against my son, second against the MasterHarper, and finally and most outrageously against the Benden Weyrleader – an attack that ended in murder. For either of the two second counts, he merits banishment.'
'I think not,' Fax said. 'Release him!'
Suddenly there were other men ruthlessly penetrating the crowd and stepping up to Fax, their aggression obvious in their eyes and manner. They all wore Fax's colours. Tarathel's eyes widened with fury.
'No!' Robinton cried, gesturing to the crowd. Fax's crew might be armed and dangerous, but there were only eight of them, while the crowd must number close to a hundred. 'Telgar. Defend your Holder!'
With a roar of protest, Fax and his men were overwhelmed by those around him, grabbing at their arms and bodies and preventing them from drawing their weapons. Even R'gul and S'lel assisted while C'gan somehow tried to keep a firm grip on the murderer. Suddenly the blue rider cried for assistance as the man sagged and collapsed, a dagger through one eye.
And the dragons bellowed with triumph.
One look at the hilt of that slender throwing knife and Robinton knew who had cast it. He marvelled that Nip had been able to fling it so accurately through the milling crowd.
Fax and his men were hurried away to their camp, where they were forced to pack up. A force of fifty willing holders and crafters assembled to escort the unwelcome guests all the way back to their borders. Lord Tarathel supplied food and runner-beasts to those who had none.
R'gul, S'lel and the other dragonriders took the body of their dead Weyrleader back to Benden. With a fresh wound, Robinton was prevented by the Hold's healer from accompanying his friend, but he drummed the awful message to every Hold and Hall. Only when he had completed that task could he rest. Nip slipped into Robinton's guest room late that night, rousing the MasterHarper from a restless sleep.
'Bad wound?' Nip asked solicitously.
'Annoying,' Robinton replied, pulling himself carefully up in the bed as Nip kindly stuck pillows behind him. He grimaced at the pain of resettling the arm. The Hold's healer had given him quite a lecture on the stupidity of drumming messages with an arm in that condition. It shouldn't have required stitching if it had been attended to immediately, he was told in a sour voice. So he had endured the process, well fortified by a hefty fellis draught. 'Good throw.'
'You saved my knife? I'm fond of that blade. Superb balance,' said Nip.
'Over there in the first drawer,' Robinton said, nodding to the chest opposite the bed. 'You'd no idea what Fax had planned?'
'None.' Nip shook his head sadly as he retrieved his knife. 'You may be sure I would have warned you had I had any idea. It must have been planned before they got here. I've been lurking' – he grinned – 'where I might overhear something of value. My personal opinion is that they were just waiting for an opportunity. And they were taking no chances. I saw several other unlikely pairs – a lad and a bruising fighter – circulating the Gather. Wondered at such a pairing for Fax's men. They were after F'lon, no doubt about it.'
'My feeling, too. Shards, they may have been planning such an assault since the last Telgar Gather was cancelled when Grogellan died.' Robinton sighed heavily and reached for the numbweed salve.
As he fumbled with the sling around his arm, Nip took over and, with unusually gentle fingers, daubed the sewn wound with the salve. The relief was intense.
'Didn't realize Gifflen got you.'
'Giflen?
'That was the man's name. I'd marked him as a troublemaker. He's been thrown out of several holds and his apprentice hall for provoking fights and bullying. He's killed often. I preferred that he didn't walk away from this one.'
Robinton nodded in agreement. 'More would thank you if they knew. I thank you.'
'Clever of you to shout like that. Stirred them all to their senses.'
Robinton exhaled, remembering. 'We've all become soft, you know. Letting someone else take the blame or do the disagreeable.'
'That's why Fax controls as many holds as he does.' Nip's tone was harsh. 'Rob, you've got to shake the Lord holders awake before he takes another one.'
'I've done what I can. Groghe's training men, so is Oterel and, after this, Tarathel will be wary.'
'What about Kale at Ruatha?'
'I plan to see him on my way back.'
'How soon before you could travel a-dragonback?'
'I think I've lost that privilege.'
'No.' Nip shook his head. 'Drum C'gan. He'll come any time. Too bad F'lon's sons aren't a little older.'
Robinton frowned. 'I haven't had a chance to get to know them, not as I did their father. R'gul keeps the Weyr so much to itself. I should go...'
'You should not. You should get to Ruatha Hold as fast as you can.' Then Nip was on his feet and at the door. 'See you. I'll be in touch.'
'Nip, where ...' But the door was already closing silently behind the man.
Despite the fellis and the numbweed, it took Robinton a long while to sleep again.
Tarathel reluctantly let him start the journey back to the Harper Hall two days later when an equally reluctant Hold Healer permitted it. The Lord Holder sent six men as escort.
'Don't be a fool, Master Robinton,' Tarathel said, scowling.
'The Hall may have played down the attacks made on harpers over the last few Turns, but that doesn't mean they aren't known. And Gifflen's attack on you was inexcusable. I've even heard that Evenek was lured to Crom at Fax's instigation, so he could make him an example.' He paused, his voice becoming more gentle. 'Did Evenek ever play again?'
'He can play. He'll never sing again.'
'Well, then,' Tarathel said, stern again, 'you'll travel back from here without incident and as I deem you should go – with an escort.'
So Robinton accepted, though he would rather have travelled on his own, because he was certain that the men would have orders to keep to a reasonable pace in deference to his injury.
There was nothing reasonable about his urgent need to talk sense into Kale. He wished that the Ruathan Holder had been at the Gather, but his spouse had recently given birth to a son, so he had remained at his Hold. The other Lord Holders who had been present had received salutary shocks: the murder of a dragonrider, an attack on a MasterHarper, and then Fax's rejection of Tarathel's valid judgment on the assassin. Robinton was sure he wasn't the only one who had trouble remembering that such a word – assassin – existed in the vocabulary.
'An escort is necessary, MasterHarper Robinton,' Tarathel said, scowling. 'It is bad enough that you were attacked at all. I fear a man so lost to honour as Fax has proved himself would not hesitate to make an attempt on your life again if you were not close-guarded.'
'He has scarcely had time to return to--' Robinton paused.
'I will believe anything of that man now,' said Tarathel. 'You'd do well to limit your wanderings, MasterHarper, or ride with an escort.'
'Limit my wanderings? That I cannot in conscience do – not now.'
'Be careful then, Robinton.' Tarathel pressed his hand warningly against Robinton's uninjured shoulder. 'I've put one of my best runner-beasts at your disposal.'
Robinton thanked the Lord Holder ... though he wasn't so sure how thankful he should be when he tried to mount it. Three men had to hold the black's head. Once he was in the saddle, the animal became obedient ... at least to Robinton. No one on foot could get near enough to hand the harper his saddlebags. After that, his gear was attached to the saddle when the runner was tacked – and even that took several men.
The runner-beast was, however, a very smooth-gaited, powerful creature with a habit of charging on ahead, so that Robinton's escort were hard put to keep up with him. Gradually, he got the trick of dealing with Big Black and
