CHAPTER 6 A New Weyrwoodcrafter and a Disturbing Death
Hallon whistled happily to himself as he lifted the trays of wood-pulp and put them to press for turning into the sheets of paper his master had invented. It was a tedious job, but these sheets had to be perfect for the Harper Hall, and the journeyman did not grudge the tedium. Master Bendarek encouraged him to experiment with the quality and composition of the sheets so long as there was no immediate demand, and it added another dimension to his craft. Hallon had not long walked the tables and he was still very conscious of the new journeyman's knot on his shoulder, and proud to be one of Master Bendarek's chosen pupils trusted with experimentation. He had just set the press for the last sheet when another journeyman came into the workshop.
"Hallon – Master wants to see you. There's a dragonman with him."
A dragonman! Exciting, thought Hallon, wondering what was happening. Quickly he put away his tools and washed and dried his hands and hurried to the master's workshop. Outside he saw a blue dragon hobnobbing with the resident blue. The newcomer dragon looked at him with curiosity; and Hallon nodded to it, a little stiffly, by way of greeting.
Master Bendarek was in his workshop with a tall leather clad man in his middle years and threadscored features, and a young lad sporting the knots of an apprentice fishercrafter. The strangers regarded him with frank curiosity; the man studying him thoughtfully.
"Well, Hallon, how do you feel about a placement out?" Asked the Master.
"Sir? Of course I'd be proud to be worthy of your trust, sir." Hallon's heart hammered against his ribs. A placement out meant seniority!
"You're quite a radical, Hallon." Bendarek said.
"Yes, sir. No one's complained yet though. At least" he amended "Not very much."
"High Reaches have specifically requested someone innovative. High Reaches Weyr that is." The Masterwoodcrafter twinkled at him. "Do you think you could handle that sort of assignment?"
High Reaches Weyr! They had a reputation for being slightly crazy there. But a chance to be allowed to innovate – few Holders would tolerate it!
"Sir, I'd be delighted."
"This dragonman – R'cal – has also made a proposition for a venture which could benefit the craft as well as your future work." Bendarek waved a hand to R'cal and the dragonman took over.
"Are you game for a trip to Southern?" He asked.
This must be some kind of test.
"Well, sir, I guess it's like the healer's brews. Potentially not too pleasant but probably a worthwhile thing in the end if there's a good reason to it."
The blue rider threw back his head and laughed.
"You'll do, son." He said. "T'lan is going to approve of you. And don't call me sir. It's R'cal."
"Yes, sir – R'cal. Why Southern?" and who, he thought, is T'lan? Wasn't T'bor Weyrleader at High Reaches?
Bendarek got a sample of wood from a drawer and handed it to Hallon. The young man felt it, turning it over again and again, feeling the grain.
"This is very hard and close grained." He said. "I've never felt anything like it. I'd say it would be very strong."
"It's called Ironwood." Bendarek told him. "It grows only in Southern. It's so heavy that it sinks; and we need to find out more about it."
"Would this be something to do with the new calculations that Masterminer Nicat has been doing?" asked Hallon, shrewdly. Bendarek and R'cal exchanged glances. R'cal spoke up.
"Yes indeed. T'lan worked with master Nicat, and now wants to extend the tables to wood. This ironwood could have the properties to make really good pit props – and who knows what else. Your duties in the weyr would, in addition to normal woodcrafting, include experimenting, bending and generally torturing pieces of wood to death while T'lan makes notes and measures things." He grinned. "I don't understand a word of it – I leave it to T'lan and my son." Hallon heard pride in his voice.
"I think it sounds fascinating." He said sincerely.
"Good. Then when you've got yourself the tools to collect samples, we'll press on to Southern – if Vargion here can give Camnath the co-ordinates properly."
oOoOo
Four hours later, Hallon's hands were stiff and numb, and he decided to have some lunch and a rest on the warm sands. He was about to break open a meat roll when he heard a noise in the sand behind a dune. Tunnel snakes? He unclasped his knife and moved forward. The scaled ones were good eating.
Nothing could have prepared Hallon for the sight before his eyes. A nest of tiny perfect eggs, cracking open as he watched!
"R'cal!" He hissed in a shouted whisper. The little creatures emerging were creeling in hunger, and seemed to smell the meat rolls he carried. A little bronze who seemed bolder than the others lifted his nose in the air, questing for the delicious smell. Hallon broke off a piece of meat roll and held it out to the tiny, glistening creature. In an instant the morsel was gone, and almost a piece of Hallon's finger. He almost heard the little thing demanding more, and quickly broke up the rest of his dinner. He seemed to be poking food in all directions at once as the little bronze was joined by three other firelizards – a brown, a blue, and a green. R'cal and Vargion had come to see what he had called for, and had rapidly joined him. When the flurry of hatching was over, Hallon had four sleepy firelizards attached to his shoulders and forearms, R'cal had three – a bronze, a blue and a green – and Vargion had two, a Brown and a green. The boy looked wide eyed with wonder; and Hallon knew he was wearing much the same expression at the knowledge of the love that these darling, beautiful little creatures felt for him. Vargion asked,
"Is – is this like Impression?"
"This is Impression, lad." Said R'cal; and Hallon noticed that the older man's voice was a little choked, too. "Only if you Impress a dragon, it's even more – because your dragon is a part of you. These silly creatures" he caressed the silly creatures lovingly "are only animals. Rather special animals." He amended. Hallon copied him in stroking the headknobs of his little pets and was rewarded by a humming of pleasure from the sleepy little creatures. The brown had established itself on his left shoulder and was gently chewing his earlobe as it dropped off to sleep; the bronze was on the other shoulder. The blue held painfully tight to one arm and the green was on the other.
"Well I can name three." Said Hallon. "The bronze is Sniffer; he found my lunch. This here horror" he stroked the brown "is Nibbler. The blue is Grasper" he winced, shifting claws "And what am I to call you?" He said to the little green.
"Peep?" She chirped. He laughed.
"Very well, Peep it is." He said.
oOoOo
R'cal scowled at his son and Talana as he walked into their weyr covered in firelizards, and the new weyrwoodcrafter the same. The scowl dared them to laugh at his being seduced by these silly creatures; and Talana found an extremely interesting piece of wall just behind him while she fought for control of her face.
"Looks like you found more than ironwood, R'cal." R'gar said overly gravely. R'cal gave his son a Look.
"Aye, and I'm calling this trouble here Rogue, for I'm sure he'll be in mischief." He said, stroking the bronze. R'gar looked startled.
"You used to call me that." He whispered.
"Seemed the more appropriate to transfer it – bronze rider." R'cal smiled at him. There was more going on here than Hallon could fathom. R'cal added, "The blue is Grog because he looks like someone we both know." –Talana choked with laughter, seeing what he meant about the pugnacious little creature's resemblance to Lord Groghe, even down to having rather protuberant eyes – "and this little green is Lessa, because she hasn't stopped scolding since I Impressed her." True to form the little creature chattered at him, and he scratched her back. She stopped swearing to shiver pleasurably at him. R'cal turned. "And this is your journeyman, with Sniffer, Nibbler, Grasper and Peep."
"Does the poor man have a name himself?" Asked Talana, twinkling at R'cal. The blue rider scratched his head. R'gar guffawed.
"Well father, you remembered the important names – the lizards!" He said.
"My name is Hallon" said Hallon, feeling that perhaps he ought to assert himself a little.
"How do you do, Hallon?" Asked Talana. "I expect you know of the proverbial idiosyncrasy of dragonriders that they never forget a dragon name and rarely remember a human one. Looks like that extends to firelizards!" She laughed. "I'm T'lana, also referred to as T'lan, and we'll be working together. I ride Mirrith and Laranth's rider here " she twinkled at her lover "Is R'gar, who also takes an interest in the properties of matter."
"YOU'RE T'lan?" He was taken aback.
"It's a long story; get someone to spin it for you some day. It sort of suits me." She grinned.
"Uh – pleased to meet you weyrwoman T'lan." He said. "You're uh, not what I expected."
"Lad" interposed R'gar "She's never what anyone expects. She's Very."
oOoOo
Hallon soon found himself settling in to the weyr, and enjoyed the work he was doing. He found Talana stimulating and intelligent if occasionally rather demanding and impatient. However she was at least as demanding of herself as of him; so he forgave her and pointed out his own limitations in a restrained manner. Talana at once apologised, and asked him to set the limits. Hallon could not remain cross with her for long!
His duties soon included making paper once Talana had ferreted out that he knew how; and she sent L'rilly to take sheets to Geriana and fly her to good landmarks to obtain a reference book for weyrlings – and for more mature riders to use for a quick guide. Meanwhile, the firelizards ate and slept and grew. Hallon and Vargion had a dozen volunteers to help feed the little creatures, not least among them Sagarra and Talana's cousins. He was shown how to oil itchy skin – Sagarra was getting quite bossy – and warned not to overstuff them. Talana insisted that he and Vargion train their Lizards from an early age as Menolly had, and Hallon found that the training came easily to them. He noticed that Talana pretended to despise the 'flutterbugs' as she called them, but usually sneaked them titbits if she thought he wasn't looking.
oOoOo
Talana attended the Conclave of the Lords Holder well wrapped and glad that it was set before Mirrith got snippy about flying. Some of the Lords were less than pleased to see a Weyrwoman; but the friendly greeting she received from Lords Oterel and Deckter and even the irascible Groghe quieted at least some objections. Lord warder Lytol was of course exquisitely courteous and Talana's heart went out to the man for his terrible loss. Groghe was actually quite genial and asked Talana if she would be attending his spring fair.
"My lord, I'd be delighted." She said "But it's going to depend on the timing; Mirrith's eggfull and I'm in an interesting condition myself." She blushed, then became even fierier red as Groghe congratulated her heartily.
The giving of evidence was quite straightforward, and Talana set out her findings succinctly. She had written out her calculations on one of Hallon's rougher, but serviceable, sheets of paper to demonstrate how debts would mount up if the interest at least was not paid off weekly. She had no illusions about intellect being a required prerequisite to hold; but she knew that Deckter would understand, and probably Oterel and Groghe would follow the gist; he was a shrewder man, she thought, than he often chose to appear. Lytol had been involved in the trade side of weaving; and she also saw Asgenar nodding. She took a liking to the cheerful open faced lord of Lemos; in the same way she took a dislike to the impenetrable stupidity of Lord Sangel of Boll and Nessel of Crom. However, it was quickly over, and she was dismissed to leave the lords to their deliberations. She caught Groghe's eye as she left and pulled a humorous face at him, sending thoughts of frustration via Merga. The choleric Lord actually smiled as she left.
oOoOo
Winter passed, and Mirrith took herself into the hatching ground to lay thirty three eggs, which she displayed smugly to her dear T'lan. She had not laid another gold egg, but all the eggs were well formed, and Talana praised her for being so clever. She was still half-asleep when Mirrith demanded her presence, for Tamalenth had risen, and R'gar and she had enjoyed the backwash. L'rilly had ended up with Sh'len and Talana hoped it would make her happy. Personally she found him a little immature; but if tastes didn't differ, all clutches would have the same sire. Hallon's fair of firelizards, now proving to be very useful in holding and fetching things, told him all about the eggs. His fair were among the few firelizards Mirrith tolerated; like Talana she found the ill disciplined creatures most people owned were annoying. Hallon's she permitted to help bathe her, and Vargion's too. Vargion was a happy lad, with a subtle sense of humour. He did not put himself forward, but was capable to be left to get on with things; and something of a friendship sprang up between him and Hallon, as they had both been newcomers at the same time, and shared a secret. He was just thirteen turns old, but having been sailing from an early age had a well-developed sense of responsibility. He introduced Hallon to many of the other candidates – the twin cousins of Talana he already knew – including two seaholder boys, brothers, Rossan and Corgall. Few of the other boys had firelizards, and Vargion found that jealousy caused him a lot of problems. The seaholder lads stood with him – whilst expressing envy – but Hallon was more a friend to him than most of the other candidates. Two weyrbred lads, Malon and Ranor also had firelizards; one and two respectively; but these half brothers stood apart from the others, keeping to themselves, although Ranor was always willing to wade in against bullies and Malon generally joined him. There were several girls amongst the candidates, one of whom had a blue firelizard. The daughter of the Holder of River Bend, she took a dim view of a commoner like Hallon owning four; and grumbled loudly. Hallon ignored her; he had noted that R'gar and T'lan treated all the weyrlings and candidates alike regardless of their rank; and as R'gar had roared at some of the boys for making a nuisance of themselves, and told them that the weyrwoodcrafter was useful and they were not, and that he cared not one jot who their fathers might be for even a son of F'lar of Benden was outranked by a journeyman, he assumed that her complaints would not be heeded. He was correct.
oOoOo
Talana was glad to be into the middle trimester of her pregnancy in time for Lord Groghe's spring Gather. She and Mirrith had been able to fly Thread once or twice since Mirrith had laid, and had been helping Sh'rilla with her first flights on Daenilth. Talana also wanted to clear with Master Domick permission for Tyrin to visit for Hatching, and ask Silvina if Camo could come too. Mirrith had taken a liking to the amiable simpleton, and wanted him there. Besides, Talana enjoyed fairs. It was the atmosphere more than anything else; and a Gather gave her a good opportunity to prowl around looking for candidates.
Lord Groghe saw Talana shortly after Merga had launched herself over to greet Mirrith with a noisy chirrup. The two queens exchanged news, seemingly oblivious to the incongruity of the appearance of their difference in size. Merga promptly perched on Mirrith's head knob, and sang enthusiastically to Groghe. Mirrith added a deep rumbling counterpoint; and Talana grinned, embarrassed at Groghe.
"It's the harpers." He explained. "Makes her sing; gets excited. Never heard a dragon sing before."
"Nor me, Lord Groghe. I didn't know she could. I can't." She added cheerfully.
"I can't either." He agreed. "Fancy leaving 'em to it?" He offered her his arm to escort her into the gather square, before being accosted by various holders.
"Business, what?" He said apologetically. "See you around, weyrwoman!"
Talana waved a hand as he was swamped in holders and moved into the crowds. She wished R'gar had accompanied her; she felt a little swamped and alone. However, she let her mind reach out, seeking possible candidates as she drifted towards the wine stores and refreshment booths.
It was the urgency of manner of the journeyman harper that caught her attention, though only her 'inner ear' picked it up, for he seemed perfectly nonchalant. He moved to a table where she recognised Master Domick sitting with a number of holders and traders. He passed some comment; but his fingers drummed on the table. Talana had used her 'inner ear' to gain translations of the messages passed by the great drums – it had passed the time while she was immured in the healer's halls – and had become quite adept at reading the messages.
"Master alert death in field" said the journeyman's fingers. Domick's fingers replied,
"Accident query?"
"Negative"Talana 's nose twitched
She walked over.
"Why, master Domick, I was hoping to speak to you about my fosterling." She said, one hand tapping on the other as though from a nervous habit,
"Dragonfolk aid query?"
Domick almost choked on his wine.
"Ah yes, weyrwoman." He said. "Why don't we go and discuss it – if you gentlemen will excuse me, a harper never turns down the opportunity to speak with a beautiful woman." He bowed with a flourish; and Talana gave him a look. Out of earshot he became businesslike.
"How did you learn the measures?" He asked brusquely. She shrugged.
"When Master Oldive had me incarcerated, I had little better to do with my time. Certain messages brought certain reactions; I could extrapolate more." It was not wholly untrue. She had deduced some messages by actions if there was no one around to 'hear' it from; and some messages followed logical progressions. She had drawn up a Boolean chart to help find out the other missing parts for sections of the code, unaware that most harpers learned by rote and were unaware of a logic base. "It's only logic after all." She said.
Domick was one of the few who had discovered patterns in drum measures; patterns were his business. He was fascinated that a dragonrider should have seen them too; but there was business to conclude before he could enjoy a long talk with her.
"You might as well come along, weyrwoman." He said "And Tarney can explain more fully."
"Please – T'lana." She said. "I'm only a junior weyrwoman after all."
Tarney looked uncomfortable.
"Please Master – I'm not sure it's something a woman should see." He said. Talana lifted an eyebrow.
"I've seen a few messy deaths already." She said. "Thread's not a pretty way to die."
Tarney swallowed.
"It's a woman, see, uh, lady T'lana. She – well –" he swallowed.
"Another rape?" sighed Talana. "if it's him again, I'll have his wherewithal off this time."
The men looked at each other and shuddered. They believed her.
oOoOo
The body lay in a field that formed part of the picnic area, though it was as yet fairly deserted. A stage had been erected for a performance scheduled to take place later of Domick's famous tale of Lessa. Tarney and some apprentices had been checking out the viewing arrangements when one of the apprentices had almost fallen over the body. He had left the apprentices to keep people away and had gone to find his master.
Talana looked at the body. The expensively dressed woman lay on her back, her own gauzy scarf pulled tight around her neck, the ends underneath her. Talana could see a furrow in which the scarf sat, digging into the rather pouchy neck.
The dead woman's skirts were pulled up to her waist, and her undergarments had been pulled down to her mid thighs. Talana frowned in puzzlement and looked closer.
"I'm rather bothered by the bruising." She said to Domick. He peered closer.
"I see no bruising." He said.
"That is what bothers me."
Talana moved the woman's undergarment. There was no bruising or rubbing under it on the thighs; and there appeared to be no blood or fluid by her parts. Talana grunted again, and pulled the woman's skirt down. To be sure, she rolled up sleeves to check for bruising and turned down her bodice to examine shoulders, collarbone and breasts.
"No bruises." She said.
"Should there be?" Asked Tarney. She looked at him.
"Tarney, lad, I know where I get bruised during dragonlust – and that's a lot gentler than rape." She explained patiently. She examined the woman's long fingernails. Caught in one was a strand the same colour as the scarf.
"No skin – yet she'd surely have scratched at an attacker in front of her." She said. "The scarf must have been pulled tight from behind, because that's where the ends are – which is born out by the speech the fingernails make about how the poor woman scrabbled at her throat for air. Not I think for long – there's only one thread, and with nails like that I think she'd have caught more if she'd taken more than a few seconds to die." She looked puzzled. "But why disguise it as rape?"
Tarney was looking confused, but she was glad to see that Domick was with every step she made.
"Her colours and knots declare her to be the wife of Holder Fayn of Riverside." Domick declared. Talana had never heard of Riverside; but as a harper, his knowledge was bound to be encyclopaedic.
"He should really come here to identify her." She said. "I'll make the body more presentable for him, to lessen the shock. I don't think it can tell us anything more."
It did occur to Talana that Fayn himself might have killed his wife for one reason or another; and expecting to see it disarrayed, he might betray himself if she appeared more peaceful. Domick dispatched Tarney to find Holder Fayn, and Talana ministered to the body, noting as she did so that no stiffness of any kind had set in, and that therefore the woman had probably been dead less than four hours. As most people had only been arriving for three, this was not very helpful; but it seemed to her to be a good practice to adopt. She suspected from Master Domick's cynical expression as he gave instructions to Tarney that he shared her suspicions of the husband. T'lan had found that people had a habit in confiding in her; and one of the perennial worries amongst candidates and weyrlings was trouble between their parents.
"So" he turned to her suddenly "Was that your dragon singing away with Groghe's little creature earlier?"
"Yes, it was. Can't think where she got it from – I can't sing "
"You can't, eh? Well plenty can't that think they can."
She grinned at him.
"I claim no musical knowledge at all; that's why I find Tyrin so awesome. I can hold a melody whistling and I like listening to that twirly twisty stuff like The Lessa thing because it's got patterns in it but I'd not be able to explain it."
"Twirly twisty stuff?" His eyebrows rose.
"I'm sorry, but I told you I was totally ignorant about music. Complex would be I suppose a better word but it doesn't describe it so well. It always makes me think of a well flown pattern with dragons smoothly shifting from one position to another taking up the position of another to continually rest and change flights." She shrugged. "I just enjoyed listening to it while I was here, and music's supposed to be enjoyed, isn't it, even by the totally ignorant?"
He seemed pleased for some reason.
"Yes weyrwoman, music is supposed to be enjoyed." He said. "Ah, here comes the bereaved husband."
oOoOo
Holder Fayn was accompanied by a young woman, less well dressed than his wife, and a girl of about twelve turns.
"The journeyman said something has happened to my wife." He said, fussily. "I trust she isn't too upset?" He looked, Talana thought a trifle wary when he said that.
"Upset? Well that's a difficult question to answer." Domick said in his melodious voice.
"There's no way to soften this." Said Talana. "I'm afraid your wife is dead."
"Dead? Cassanda?" He blinked several times. "She can't be dead. She'd not permit such a thing. And who on Pern are you?"
"Allow Me, " said Domick "To introduce Weyrwoman, ah, T'lana of High Reaches."
"This is not weyr business!"
"On hearing that a noble woman had met with misfortune" said Talana tartly "It occurred to both Master Domick and myself that a ranking woman might be of assistance. As indeed I might yet be for the grieving female relatives."
He apologised, and put an arm around the little girl.
"My daughter, Faya" he said. The child held out her hand palm up in formal fashion, and Talana took it gravely. The girl looked shocked, but not grief stricken. The older girl on the other hand, looked very shaken. Talana turned to her, a querying look on her face.
"Sita" she murmured. "Second cousin of Fayn and companion–maid to Cassanda."
"May – may I see the – my wife?" Asked Fayn. Talana uncovered the face of the dead woman. He paled slightly. "How did it happen?"
"She was strangled." Said Talana "In a sudden rage."
Fayn looked upset; Sita nearly fainted. Faya shook her head, peering almost seeming perplexed.
"Poor mother" she said gravely. "May I go, please? This is rather horrid." Her father nodded and the child ran off.
"I believe there was a rape case on your land recently where a man raped and strangled a woman." Said Talana.
"Why – yes. How did you know? It was a renegade – we caught him, and he went to his death boasting of it." He shuddered.
"Was it your daughter who found the body?"
"Yes – yes it was. A great shock for such a young girl." He added sharply "What has this to do with my wife?"
Talana turned to Sita. "Your suspicions are I think correct. I thought at first it might have been you, but the child is entirely too controlled. You are going to have to get her to talk to you; when she realised what she had done, she tried to arrange the body as though it had been raped, to throw the blame on a renegade. The effect of finding that body has disturbed her deeply; as well as her harbouring a lot of anger towards her mother."
"What are you saying?" Cried Fayn. "Are you accusing my daughter?"
Sita was sobbing.
"She's so self contained, nothing Cassanda did caused her to blow up; but I know how upset and angry she was at the idea of marrying Lord Benis."
"What?" asked Fayn. "Benis? That little Snot?"
"Cassanda wanted an alliance with Lord Groghe" Sita explained. "Once Faya entered womanhood, she started making enquiries. She wanted to introduce Faya to Lord Groghe today that's why she took her off earlier when we first arrived. Faya was intending to plead with her about it."
"Why did I know nothing of this?" Fayn was horrified, a man drained. "Why did Faya not come to me?"
"She knows you never go against Cassanda because it makes life quieter." Accused Sita with quiet dignity. Fayn sank to the ground and buried his face in his hands. Talana led Sita to one side.
"You thought it was me?" Sita asked. Talana shrugged.
"When I saw you, you were distraught. I thought she probably bullied you; and you are plainly in love with Fayn." The girl blushed.
"Yes I am – and yes she did. What changed your mind?"
"She's too controlled; and she was puzzled by something about the body – because it was not as she had left it. You were also too upset – not making an issue of it as you might to cover guilt, but as though you knew or suspected something. I didn't think you'd be able to think of disarranging the body if you'd done it. I think you'd have just fled."
"Yes. I expect I should. I suspected Faya had done something because when she returned she was very quiet, and she turned down Bubbly pies – I know that sounds trivial "
"Not at all"
"And she'd been crying. Faya never cries."
"That's probably part of her problem. You evidently love her."
"As if she was my own"
"Then I'm sure you'll keep your family together and help her through it. Good luck to you." Talana gave her a little hug. "Now go to your man – and when he's over it, I'll dance at your wedding."
oOoOo
Obtaining permission for Tyrin to visit for the hatching was almost an anticlimax; but she was glad to run into the boy, and his delight at her presence made up for any unpleasantness. He was pleased to tell her about his studies, though she noticed he was more reticent about his companions.
"Are you having any problems?" She asked.
"Nothing I can't handle." He told her, stoutly. "The masters are pleased with my progress – I've a lot of catching up to do on the basics." He grimaced "But I'll do it and show 'em all!"
Tyrin wanted to introduce one or two boys to Talana, and she was glad at least that he had made a few friends. He dragged them off to meet Mirrith and Talana noticed a couple of larger boys watching in chagrin as the three little lads stood protected by the great bulk of the queen dragon.. Mirrith noticed too; and turned to regard the bullies with her faceted eyes, starting to whirl in irritation. She extended her head, and yawned. She had noticed that, surprising as it seemed, this had the effect of encouraging the unpleasant to leave. She was not disappointed on this occasion either. Tyrin was delighted; he knew he'd suffer later, but he had a memory of the humiliation of his enemies. He was sorry of course when Talana had to go; but Mirrith mustn't be worried over her eggs – and he'd be going to the hatching!
Hallon – and many of his family – is autistic. When you get to know him better it will be a bit more obvious. It's a spectrum of disorders that has not been as well understood as it should be; Hallon is more towards the end of Aspergers.
Faya felt utterly trapped. She's not likely to be a danger to the general public; the fact that she disguised her mother's murder as being a rape-murder was partly a displacement activity to deal with the horror of finding that other body, and shock at what she had done wanting too to shift the blame in her own mind to some nameless renegade. She's one mixed up kid but a bit of decent parenting ought to set her on the right road. Groghe is the sort of conscientious Lord Holder who will keep a covert eye on her rather than indict a child.