Disclaimer: The setting and theory belong to Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series. The characters and plot are mine, though.
Chapter Nine
Korla would recognize L'poll's voice anywhere. It hadn't been long since she'd left Benden, and she still remembered a few instances when she'd slept late and the Weyrleader had had to wake her with a booming shout.
Now she heard the same voice in a different context. This was a L'poll whose patience had run out for the subject of his attention. In this case, it was Makun.
"Makun," he hissed. "How well I remember. Thrown out of Smithcraft Hall on suspicion of causing several injuries in the forge, wasn't it?"
Makun, who had been thrashing in his bonds ever since they'd been put on, was suddenly still. Apparently he had bad memories of L'poll.
"I didn't have proof then," L'poll continued. "If I had, you would not have done this. You would have been on an island somewhere in the Western Sea."
He exchanged silent greetings with T'ren. Korla was a bit surprised to see that the High Reaches Weyrleader seemed as much in awe of L'poll as the younger riders were.
"You have proof now, sir," Korla heard S'mar say. "An eyewitness saw him committing the crimes."
"And you are?" L'poll asked, softening the military-like words with a smile.
"S'mar, sir. Korla asked me to help her investigate."
"Pleased to meet you, L'poll said. "I'd like to ask you how that went, but I've got an eyewitness account to hear."
"Not now, you don't," Fr'kane growled. "I'm not waking him up to be traumatized all over again."
Korla glanced nervously at L'poll. He had never appreciated insubordination at Benden Weyr. Fortunately, he didn't look angry.
"No time like the present then," he said amiably. "Korla, tell me how you caught this piece of slime."
"It was an accident, really," Korla said, embarrassed. "We had a few leads, but they turned out to be dead ends. The only thing that people at both mines remember seeing is a brown rider. And we all know there are too many brown riders on Pern to investigate each and every one of them."
"We needed more help," S'mar cut in. "So we asked Fr'kane here because we didn't want to go to Weyrleader T'ren without proof. We're not entirely sure what happened after that. Fr'kane could tell you better."
Fr'kane sighed. "R'kun's been acting weird. I asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn't tell me until just after you guys left last night. He told me what he just told you: that his brother made him take him to the two mines, and that he's positive Makun was behind the tunnel collapses.
"I was sure there was no one around to hear, or actually, Selmith was sure. But she must have missed something, because Makun showed up and tried to kill R'kun. We got him tied up, and that's when everyone else showed up."
T'ren shook his head in awe. "This was going on right under my nose. And I missed it."
"Don't feel bad," L'poll said. "You did the same thing to me not 6 Turns back."
"That I did," T'ren confirmed, laughing. "Except with me it was kitchen thieves."
Korla looked from one Weyrleader to the other. They must have known each other before.
"Well, there's nothing for it," T'ren continued. "We can't condemn this piece of slime yet. He'll have a fair trial with Lord Holder, Craftmaster, and Weyrleader to judge. Not that he deserves it.
"In the meantime, he'll be kept under lock and key. Come on, you deadglow," he said, yanking Makun to his feet and pushing him out of the room.
"Listen, Weyrleader," Korla started, darting a nervous glance at L'poll. "About R'kun - "
"Say no more," the Weyrleader commanded, his eyes softening. "I see no reason to pursue punishment. This young man had gone through quite enough."
With that, L'poll followed T'ren outside. On his way out the door, he turned back. "Korla, I'm going to be busy the next few days. I'd like to talk with you about some things I've found out when the trial is over. I'll have Mardoth contact Rinath." Then he left.
Korla sat down on a chair wearily. "What a way to start the day," she said,m eliciting shaky laughs from S'mar and Fr'kane.
A moan came from the bed. "R'kun!" Fr'kane exclaimed, eyes shining with love. "Are you all right?"
S'mar pulled Korla out of the chair. "We'll see you later," he said, steering Korla outside.
Korla would have protested the rough treatment had she not been struck suddenly by the fact that S'mar's touch was making her blush. Instead, she maintained her silence and wasn't sure if it was disappointment or relief she felt when he let go.
"Did you notice that L'poll has violet eyes, just like you do?" S'mar asked as they walked back to their end of the Bowl.
Korla almost stopped short. Only a desire to crawl back in bed (it wasn't even dawn) kept her moving. "He does?" she asked.
S'mar nodded confirmation. "What is he's your long-lost father or something?"
"Oh, like that matters," Korla scoffed, aware she sounded rude and not caring. They walked the rest of the way in silence.
Just before they separated, Korla realized that what she'd said could make S'mar mad. She also realized that she didn't want that. She'd come to depend on his strong presence.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I guess I just didn't want another thing on my plate. And I overreacted. You know, I'm really much better to work with when I've had a good night's sleep."
"It's okay. I forgive you," S'mar said. "I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to upset you."
He hugged her. Korla blushed deeply. She didn't know why he was affecting her like this today. Then it hit her. She loved him. There was no other explanation. She left him, completely confused.
R'kun opened his eyes groggily. Fr'kane was there, looking down at him with love. "I dreamed - Makun! Wait, that wasn't a dream."
Fr'kane shook his head. "You scared me for a minute, R'kun," he said. "When I saw you fighting with him - Shards, R'kun. I don't know where I'd be if you'd died."
R'kun was touched. He could tell that Fr'kane really meant it.
"How did I ever manage without you?" R'kun asked, summoning his strength to pull Fr'kane down to him for a kiss.
That one kiss invigorated him. All his fatigue was gone. He could run all the way to Fort Hold in this condition. He got up, and promptly fell down again.
A sharp pain had gone through his side. He looked, and what he saw almost made him faint again. It seemed that Makun's knife had gotten past his defenses.
"Numbweed," he managed to say. He felt Fr'kane put the jar in his hand. He managed to get his shirt off so that he could spread the antiseptic salve over the wound. The effect was instant. He no longer felt the pain.
"Idiot," Fr'kane said. "That's the way to get infections. You'd better let me help you."
R'kun shrugged, and let his weyrmate take over.
"I'll need to wash the blood off, and the numbweed will be washed off, too. But I'll put some more on when I get the cut clean. You're lucky. This isn't very deep. It will probably heal enough for you to go between safely in a few days."
As Fr'kane talked and worked, R'kun realized that Makun would never hurt another person again. He didn't know for sure what had happened after he'd passed out, but there was no way Makun could have escaped. There would be a trial. And R'kun knew that he would do whatever he had to to make sure that Makun would never be a danger to anyone again.