By the time they had arrived, Sebell and Menolly were dripping with sweat, tortured by scratches and insect bites, which did not seem to bother the tougher, tanned hides of the Southerners. Sebell wondered if he could find the en-ergy to cover the drum that day. Toric had firmly assured him that there were hides large enoughsince herdbeasts also grew larger here in the southto fit this mammoth drum. But the journeyman was determined to work as long and hard as the Southern Holder if he had to. And he had to, to find Piemur.
They had positioned the drum in front of the cavern “for the sun to dry up the insects,” so Toric announced, when the big holder frowned at his guests.
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“Man, you will die an early death if you work this hard all the time.” Toric waved toward the westering sun. “The day is nearly over. This drummaking can wait till morning. Now we all need a wash,” and his gesture went sea-ward. “That is, if you harpers swim …”
Menolly gave a sigh, partly composed of relief that Se-bell was not going to insist on finishing the drum tonight and partly of disgust since Toric would never remember that she had not only lived holdless but had been a seaholder’s daughter and could outswim him. Sebell hesitated briefly before he surrendered to Toric’s suggestion.
The seawater, not as warm as Sebell had anticipated, was indeed refreshing as well as relaxing. The four fire lizards zipped in and out of the gentle evening waves, cluttering with delight to frolic with their friends, though if Menolly disappeared for long beneath the waves, her three fire lizards dove after her, pulling her surfacewards by her hair.
Suddenly Tone’s queen, who had held herself aloof from the antics of the visitors, hovered above Toric’s head, twittering urgently. Toric glanced around. Following his gaze, Menolly and Sebell saw three red-sailed sloops, their sides lined with people, rounding the arm of land that protected the southern harbor.
“The harvesters have returned,” said Toric to the harpers. “I’ll just see if all is well. Stay on and enjoy yourselves.”
With strong strokes of his powerful arms, he made a di-agonal line to the shore that would intercept the landing of the lead ship.
“Sometimes that man is too much,” she said, shaking her head at this latest exhibition of the southerner’s strength.
“Which is as well for me,” said Sebell, laughing, and pulled her under just to let the fire lizards rescue her.
They played that game bit, reveling in the freedom of the water and its coolness until Menolly suddenly wondered if she had enough energy left to swim back to shore. But they got there safely, fire lizards escorting, and paused to lean against the seawall to catch their breaths before continuing back up to the hold.
Toric was now directing the unloading, his tall figure moving here and there. Abruptly, they saw a tall, dark—
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haired girl, only a head shorter than the big Holder, approach him and hold him in a long conversation.
“That must be Sharra,” Menolly said, noticing several fire lizards converge over the girl’s head. One of them landed on her shoulder, and Menolly gave a snort. “Toric certainly has his queen well’-trained, hasn’t he?”
Suddenly a sound paralyzed them: the sharp thudding of a practiced hand against what could only be the newly acquired drum round. A practiced hand that beat a measure, “Harper here, anyone else?” and the staccato that was a question.
“It has to be Piemur!” Menolly’s cry was half-gasp half-scream, but the words weren’t quite out of her mouth before both harpers were on their feet and running toward the ramp up from the harbor.
“What’s the matter?” they heard Toric yelling after them.
“That was Piemur!” Sebell managed to gasp out as he charged a bare stride ahead of Menolly. But when they skidded to a halt on the shell-strewn area before the cav-ern, there was no one about.
Sebell cupped his hands about his mouth. “PIEMUR! RE-PORT!”
“Beauty! Rocky! Where is he?” gasped Menolly, half-angry with Piemur for that heart-stopping shock.
“SEBELL?”
The harper’s name echoed and re-echoed coming from the cavern. Sebell and Menolly were halfway there when a tanned, bare-legged, shock-haired figure ran straight into them.