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White Dragon by Anne McCaffrey. Chapter 17, 18

Good-naturedly everyone seized bundles from those the seamen were passing from ship to shore-everyone except Robinton, who was only allowed to carry his gitar.

Brekke began to walk up the shore toward the old shelter when Fandarel, laughing hugely in anticipation, placed his big hand on her back and gently propelled her toward the sanded path that led to the new Cove Hold. When Brekke began to protest, Lessa hushed her and pointed decisively at the path, taking her arm and half-pulling her along.

“I’m sure the shelter was that way…”

“It was,” replied Master Fandarel, striding along beside the Harper. “We found a better site, more suitable for our Harper!”

“More efficient, my friend?” Robinton asked, laughing as he clapped his hand on the Smith’s bulging shoulder.

“Much more efficient. Much!” The Smith nearly choked with his laughter.

Brekke had reached the bend of the path and stared incredulously at the sight of the new Hold. “I don’t believe it!” She glanced quickly from Lessa to the Smith to Jaxom. “What have you done? How have you done it? It just isn’t possible!”

Robinton and Fandarel had reached the two women, the Smith beaming so broadly that every tooth in his head showed and his eyes were mere squints in the folds of his cheeks.

“I thought Brekke said the shelter was small,” Robinton said, peering at the structure and smiling hesitantly. “Otherwise I’d have asked for …”

Lessa and Fandarel could bear the suspense no longer and, each taking one of the Harper’s arms, urged him toward the wide porch steps.

“Just you wait until you see what’s inside,” Lessa said with a crow of satisfaction.

“Everyone on Pern helped, either sending craftsmen or material,” Jaxom told Brekke, taking her limp arm and escorting her on. He beckoned Menolly to hurry and join them.

Menolly glanced about and saw only the peaceful cove, carefully raked sand, trees and flowering shrubs which bordered the beach looking as unscathed as the day she and Jaxom had arrived. Only the bulk of the Hold, with its peripheral path of sand and shells, gave evidence of any change. “I just don’t believe it.”

“I know, Menolly. They took pains to keep it lovely. And just wait till you see inside Cove Hold …”

“It’s already been named?” That seemed to irritate her, but Jaxom could appreciate her reaction.

“Well, it is a hold in a cove, so ‘Cove Hold.’”

“It’s all so beautiful,” Brekke said, turning her head this way and that to see everything. “Menolly, don’t be annoyed. It’s such a marvelous surprise. When I think what I thought we were coming to …” She laughed, a happy sound. “I must say, this is much more the suitable thing!”

They had reached the steps of black reef rock, filled with white hardset, making it sturdy and attractive at the same time. A creamy orange tile roof extended over the porch which ringed the Hold almost to the surrounding trees, their blooms adding spicy fragrance to the air. The metal shutters were folded back from the unusually wide windows so that they could see through the house and catch glimpses of the furnishings within. The Harper’s voice was raised in delight and amazement as he moved about the main room. As Jaxom, Brekke and Menolly entered, Robinton had been peering into the room set aside as his study, and his expression was dazed as he realized that Silvina had sent down everything from his crowded workroom in the Harper Hall. Zair echoed his confusion, chittering high and excitedly from his perch On a crossbeam. Beauty and Berd flew to join him, and suddenly, Meer, Talla and Farli appeared. They all seemed to be comparing notes, Jaxom thought.

“That’s Farli! I thought I’d heard that Piemur was here. But where is he?” The Harper sounded surprised and a trifle hurt.

“Sharra and he are tending the spits,” Jaxom said.

“We didn’t want too many people about, tiring you …” Lessa added in a soothing tone.

“Tiring me? Tiring me! I need a little tiring! PIEMUR!”

If his tanned and relaxed face had not been proof enough of his return to health, the bellow he let loose, as vigorous and deafening as ever, left no further doubts of his vitality.

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Categories: McCaffrey, Anne
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