amccaffrey.theskiesofpern-第20部分

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　Harper　apprentice　who　had　had　to　do　his　hours　in　the　Archives　Hall　blessed　the　introduction　of　printing　presses；　but　there　must　be　a　trick　to　finding　all　the　mistakes　that　could　creep　into　typeset　lines。　In　his　apprenticeship；　if　he　made　a　mistake；　he　was　able　to　scratch　it　out　with　a　knife　blade　and　rewrite；　preferably　before　Master　Arnor　caught　him　at　it。
　　It　wasn't　as　easy　to　correct　a　mistake　after　several　hundred　copies　had　been　printed。　So　many　printing　runs　were　technical　and　had　to　be　accurate：　explanations　and　instructions　crystal　clear。　Rosheen　was　particularly　good　at　this；　and　her　fast　fingers　could　set　up　a　page　quicker　than　he　could。　But　they　were　both　learning　how　to　manage　the　plexities　of　this　new　Hall；　and　Tagetarl　was　particularly　determine　to　honor　Master　Robinton's　faith　in　him　by　making　this　project　the　most　successful　of　all　that　had　been　initiated　by　his　Master　and　Aivas。
　　The　slight　creak　of　the　office　door　sounded　overloud　in　the　still　night。　He　jumped　to　his　feet。　Night？　A　glance　at　his　eastern…facing　window　told　him　that　it　was　nearly　morning。
　　〃It's　me！〃　a　whisper　announced。
　　〃The　correct　grammar　is　'It　is　I；'　or　'It's　I；'　〃　Tagetarl　told　Pinch　wearily。　〃How　did　you　get　in？　The　gate's　locked。〃
　　There　had　been　no　more　Abominator　attacks　after　the　spate　at　Turn's　End；　but　that　didn't　mean　there　weren't　more　being　planned。　Tagetarl　had　never　figured　out　just　how　discards　from　the　medical　texts　he'd　printed　a　Turn　ago　had　gotten　into　their　hands。　To　be　on　the　safe　side；　the　Printer　Hall　now　shredded　all　imperfect　sheets。
　　〃True；　and　it's　a　fine　strong　gate；〃　Pinch　said；　ing　forward　into　the　pool　of　light　from　the　desk　lamp。
　　He　was　not　tall　and　his　angular　face；　blurred　now　with　dirt　and　fatigue；　had　no　distinguishing　features。　His　present　apparel　was　Keroon　hill　folk；　and　smelled　it。　His　ability　to　blend　into　his　surroundings；　to　imitate　the　accents　and　manners　of　speech　in　any　quarter　of　Pern；　north　and　south；　along　with　his　keen　ears　and　sharp　eyes；　made　him　the　ideal　observer。　His　very　active；　cynical　mind　allowed　him　to　interpret　what　he　heard。　Pinch　cocked　his　foot　around　a　stool　and　pulled　it　to　him；　sitting　down　as　if　he　hadn't　a　care　in　the　world。　An　engaging　smile　showed　very　even　teeth；　and　there　was　a　clever　twinkle　in　his　brown　eyes。
　　〃I　didn't　use　the　gate。　Didn't　really　expect　you　to　be　up　at　this　hour　so　I　came　in…〃
　　〃Across　the　roof　again？　One　day　you'll　fall　through　the　weaver's　roof。〃
　　〃Oh；　it's　safe　enough。　Rosheen's　Ola　came　to　investigate；　by　the　bye；　but　when　she　saw　it　was　me…〃
　　〃It　was　I；〃　Tagetarl　mercilessly　corrected。
　　〃…and　Bista；　she　went　back　to　bed。〃　Pinch　clicked　his　tongue。　〃Say　hello　to　the　MasterPrinter；　Bista。〃　The　little　gold　creature；　who　looked　like　an　extra　scarf　around　the　harper's　neck；　cocked　her　head　and　blinked　her　green　gemstone　eyes　at　the　Printer。　〃So　why　are　you　up？〃
　　Tagetarl　jerked　his　thumb　at　the　proofs　he'd　been　correcting。　〃If　you　ever　encounter　someone　in　your　travels　who　can　spell　and　who　recognizes　proper　sentence　structure　and　syntax；　I've　a　job　for　him；　her；　preferably　them。〃
　　Pinch　gave　a　sharp　nod。　〃I'll　keep　my　eyes　open。〃
　　〃I　know　you　will。　So　what　brings　you　over　my　roof　at　this　time　of　night？〃
　　〃It's　nearly　day；〃　Pinch　corrected　kindly。　〃I've　been　checking　a　few　things；　snooping　about　isolated　holds　and　trader　sites；　sitting　in　Runner　stations。　Keroon　has　all　sorts　of　hill　folk；　you　know；　the　kind　that　don't　want　their　kids　Harper…taught　or　Healed。　Then　there're　the　ones　who　aren't　really　hill　folk。　Who　get　too　many　visitors　and　have　had　very　interesting　indoor　occupations。〃
　　He　reached　into　his　jacket　and　removed　a　square　of　much…folded　paper。　Carefully　he　opened　it　to　reveal　small　sketches：　full　face　and　profile。
　　〃Mind　you；　I　wasn't　exactly　an　invited　visitor；　but　I　found　me　a　spot　to　watch　and　make　a　few　notes。　I　can　flesh　these　out　better　with　some　decent　paper　and　a　carbon　point。〃　He　looked　inquiringly　at　Tagetarl。　〃Paper；　Master？　Pencils？　Aivas's　latest　improvement　on　ink？〃
　　〃Hill　folk？〃
　　〃No；　people　living　in　the　hills。　Paper？　Pencil？〃　He　hooked　the　stool　closer　to　the　desk。
　　Immediately；　Tagetarl　gathered　up　the　pages　he　was　working　on；　swiftly　rearranging　them　into　a　neat　stack　out　of　Pinch's　way。　From　a　drawer；　he　pulled　fresh　paper；　as　well　as　a　collection　of　different　drawing　tools。　〃Sit！　Sit！　D'you　need　klah；　food；　wine？〃
　　Pinch　grabbed　a　sharp　carbon　stick　with　one　hand　as　he　turned　the　sheaf　of　paper　to　his　right…he　was　left…handed…and　began　sketching。　〃Thanks；　yes；　yes；　and　yes。　And　something　for　Bista。　We　came　straight　here　without　a　stop；　using　Runner　traces。　They　let　me；　you　know。　Give　me　tips。　Good　folk；　Runners。　Get　me　some　food　and　drink；　man；　just　don't　stand　there　gawking。〃
　　When　Tagetarl　returned；　lugging　a　heavy　tray　along　with　a　bowl　of　fresh　meat　for　Bista；　Pinch　continued　speaking　as　if　the　Printer　hadn't　left　the　room。
　　〃Told　the　Runners　not　to　worry　about　mechanical　things。　Wouldn't　want　one　of　those　things　squawking　about　my　person；　I　can　tell　you。　It'd　make　folks　notice　me；　and　I　don't　need　to　be　noticed。　Anyway；　I'll　always　trust　legs　over　spare　parts。〃　He　gave　Tagetarl　a　sideways　grin；　full　of　malice。　〃Have　a　traditional　outlook　on　life；　you　know。〃　And　when　the　Masterprinter　snorted　at　such　a　remark　from　such　a　source；　he　added；　〃Well；　I　do。　It's　why　I　risk　life　and　limb　on　Harper　business。〃
　　Bista　finished　her　meal　and　curled　up　on　a　shelf。　By　then；　Pinch　had　pleted　one　sketch　and　tossed　it　to　the　side；　making　the　first　line　of　the　next　sketch　even　before　Tagetarl　could　pick　up　the　first　one。
　　Tagetarl　examined　the　drawing。　It　was　economically　drawn；　but　it　vividly　depicted　a　big　man；　his　right　shoulder　cocked　up；　a　high　forehead；　black　brows；　a　zigzag　scar　from　his　right　temple　and　down　the　side　of　his　nose　to　a　gouge　on　his　cheek；　a　thick；　wide…bridged　nose；　gaunt　cheeks；　a　thin　mouth；　a　narrow　chin；　and　a　scrawny　throat　with　a　pronounced　larynx。　The　left　hand；　which　he　was　holding　up　as　if　to　warm　at　a　fire；　was　missing　the　first　joint　of　the　index　finger。　His　clothes…the　usual　heavy　leather　tunic　and　trousers…were　worn　and　patched。　Thongs　just　under　his　knee　in　typical　hill…style　tied　leggings；　and　his　boots　were　long　and　thin；　the　leather　cracked　from　wading　through　too　many　streams　or　bogs。
　　Using　his　right　hand；　Pinch　pushed　some　bread　and　cheese　into　his　mouth　and　washed　that　down　with　a　long　swallow　of　beer；　while　the　left　kept　drawing。　A　real　gift；　Tagetarl　thought；　especially　for　someone　involved　in　discreet　surveillance。　But　then　Master　Robinton；　the　late　MasterHarper；　had　had　the　ability　to　mand　the　talents　of　many　unusual　men　and　women。　Before　the　Present　Pass　and　the　awakening　of　Aivas；　when　dragonriders　had　been　denigrated　and　even　the　Harper　Hall　in　jeopardy；　Master　Robinton　had　made　use　of　rare　talents…harpers；　men　and　women；　who　knew　their　way　about　most　of　the　settled　holds　and　halls；　large　and　small。　Tagetarl　had　met　Nip；　the　first　roving　harper　who　had　nonspecific　assignments　and　rarely　sang。　What　Nip's　real　name　was；　no　one　remembered　now。　Nip　had　trained　Tuck；　another　nonconformist；　and　had　taken　Sebell　along　for　some　projects　as　Sebell；　in　turn；　had　made　use　of　Piemur's　unusually　quick　mind　and　abilities。　Now　Pinch　had　been　added　to　the　roster；　along　with　two　others　Tagetarl　knew　about　but　was　not　sure　that　he　had　met。
　　Tagetarl　concentrated　on　mitting　the　first　face　to　memory。　Rather　pugnacious　all　totaled；　the　Printer　thought：　the　sort　that　would　worry　a　crack　in　a　cliff　until　it　became　a　cave。
　　The　next　one　Pinch　finished　was　of　a　man　who　looked　vaguely　familiar。　Younger　than　the　first　man；　he　was　taller　and　well…fleshed；　with　a　darker　but　not　weathered　skin　and　short　fair　hair。　A　pinched　mouth　suggested　selfishness　and　obstinacy；　and　the　eyes　had　a　sly　cast　to　them。　His　expression　was　both　amused　and　supercilious。
　　A　woman　was　the　third：　her　stance…her　left　hand　holding　her　right　elbow…was　awkward；　her　eyes　wide　and　avid　as　if　listening　to　instructions　that　she　would　strive　to　carry　out。　She；　too；　was　clad　as　a　hill　woman；　but　the　clothes　did　not　fit　either　her　body　or　her　manner。
　　〃These　three　were　visitors；　received　with　much　fuss　and　fawned　over。　Stayed　several　days　and　talked　most　earnestly　in　low　voices。　Plotting　probably。　What；　I　couldn't　hear；　though　I　tried。　I'd　like　these　to　get　to　Sebell　as　soon　as　possible。　D'you　think　Ola　would　oblige？　Bista's　exhausted。〃
　　〃Of　course；〃　Tagetarl　said　with　gratification。　Menolly　had　helped　Rosheen　train　her　queen。　This　wouldn't　be　the　first　time　Ola　had　flown　discreet　errands。
　　〃I'll　do　the　others　when　I've　had　a　rest；〃　Pinch　said。　He　popped　more　bread　and　cheese　into　his　mouth　as　he　rose　to　his　feet。　His　abrupt　movement　startled　a　chirp　out　of　sleeping　Bista。　Absently；　his　left　hand　stroked　her。　〃Can　I　indulge　in　a　bath？　I　have　to　keep　to　these　clothes。〃　He　held　a　fold　away　from　his　body　with　repugnance。　〃But　I'd　enjoy　sleeping　one　night…or　rather　a　full　day…smelling　clean。〃
　　〃Yes；　of　course。　I'll　see　no　one　goes　banging　about　under　you；〃　Tagetarl　said　with　a　reassuring　grin。
　　Pinch　often　made　use　of　the　loft　above　the　outbuildings　where　paper　and　other　supplies　were　stored。　When　the　Print　Hall　expanded；　as　Tagetarl　earnestly　hoped　it　would；　apprentices　would　sleep　up　there；　but　right　now；　it　made　a　handy　lair　when　Pinch　wished　to　make　inconspicuous　visits。
　　〃That　would　be　appreciated。〃　Pinch　took　another　wedge　of　cheese　and　the　last　of　the　bread　and　left。
　　Tagetarl　prepared　a　message　cylinder　for　Ola；　saw　her　off；　and　went　to　his　own　room。　Rosheen　sighed　when　he　lay　down　beside　her　and；　sleepily；　she　turned　toward　him　for　fort。
　　
BENDEN　WEYR…MIDDAY…1。3。31
　　With　the　other　Wingleaders；　F'lessan　attended　a　pre…Fall　meeting　in　one　corner　of　the　Lower　Caverns。
　　〃It's　the　Ten　pattern；　so　we　meet　it　over　the　Eastern　Sea　and　Igen　joins　us　for　the　last　hour　over　south　Lemos；〃　F'lar　said；　his　eyes　making　a　quick　keen　appraisal　of　each　of　the　eighteen　Wingleaders　sitting　around　him。　〃Weather's　cold　and　dull；　but　the　visibility　is　good。〃
　　Out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye；　F'lessan　noticed　that　everyone　was　trying　to　look　as　alert　as　possible。　The　entire　Weyr　had　been　turned　out　to　search　for　the　four　men　involved　in　wrecking　Benden's　Healer　Hall。　The　details　the　injured　journeyman　recalled　about　his　attackers　would　have　described　half　the　male　population　of　any　hold；　the　only　thing　he　was　certain　about　was　that　they　were　not　from　Benden。　Runners　had　agreed　to　spread　word　of　the　attack　and　ask　isolated　holds　to　report　strangers。　G'bol　had　scrupulously　followed　up　one　report；　but　the　men　had　been　honest　traders。
　　Two　of　the　oldest　Wingleaders　had　not　been　called　to　fly　this　Fall；　and　F'lessan　wished　that　F'lar　would　take　a　Fall　or　two　off　now　and　then。　While　he　was　more　apt　to　listen　to　G'bol　than　anyone　else；　F'lar　ignored　the　merest　hint　of　letting　anyone　else　lead　his　Weyr。　No　one　would　fault　him；　but　the　Weyrleader　made　no　exceptions　for　himself；　bar　the　very　few　occasions　each　Turn　when　Mnementh　had　taken　a　score　or　strained　a　wing。
　　F'lar　assigned　the　levels　and　F'lessan　jerked　his　atten