All The Weyrs Of Pern by Anne McCaffrey

Author:Anne McCaffrey [McCaffrey, Anne]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction/Fantasy
Publisher: Del Rey Books / Ballantine Books
Published: 2010-01-21T15:50:45+00:00

10

MASTER IDAROLAN BECAME legless before anyone else on Lord Ranrel’s celebratory day. He rarely imbibed, but having stood to lose the most if Ranrel was not elected, he had been under great stress and evidently had started drinking at his Hall over breakfast and continued all through the long morning until the result of the convocation was announced. Since the Masterfisher was also extremely popular, his uncharacteristic inebriety was kindly ignored. When he lurched over to the courtyard corner where Jaxom, Sharra, Robinton, Sebell, Menolly, and Tagetarl were seated, his gaiety was a welcome change from their gloomy conversation.

“There was no way,” Idarolan announced in drunken joviality, “that we fisherfolk would have been happy to keep our Hall here with Blesserel Holding. He’d mortgage us mast, spar, hull, and anchor when we wasn’t looking!” His exuberance was so infectious that Jaxom was not the only one to grin at his antics. “I’d’ve moved me, Hall, Master, journeyman, and apprentice, down to that fine harbor the old maps call Monaco. Yessur, that’s what I’d’ve done had anyone but Ranrel become Holder.”

“But Ranrel is Lord Holder, so you don’t need to worry now,” Robinton assured the Masterfisher. The Harper gestured for Sebell and Jaxom to find the man a stool before his legs buckled. Menolly and Sharra offered him choice portions to eat in the hope of counteracting the wine.

“I won’t waste time eating what’ll doubtless return on me all too soon,” Idarolan said, waving aside the plates. Then he belched and apologized. “Don’t mind me, ladies. I’m a relieved man, and I think that’s what I’d better do, if you’ll pardon the expression. Lord Jaxom...” He leaned at a dangerous angle toward the young Holder, his eyes unfocused. “Before I continue my drinking, would you be good enough to indicate the proper direction?”

Jaxom signaled to Sebell to help, and with both lending Idarolan support, they steered him toward the nearest head, just past the busy kitchens.

“I was fearful worried, I was, my of friends, that that Blesserel would take the honors. We’d be done for then, we would, we decent hardworking fisherfolk,” Idarolan rambled on. “I couldn’t’ve borne the waiting sober, could I? So I’d had to take a heartener, or three or four,” he added, grinning with a fine appreciation of his present state. “But you know me, lads, I never drink on board. Never. Nor do any of my Masters-them as are on the Crafthall rolls, that is.”

Jaxom got him into a stall, Sebell deftly adjusting his clothing. Then they both politely looked away. Idarolan began to sing some sort of a sea song, but though his speech was clear for a man well gone in wine, he couldn’t do more than mouth the lyrics in a hoarse bass voice. He took his relief for such a long time that, despite themselves, the two old friends locked eyes in amazement at the older man’s bladder capacity. Jaxom’s grin became a chuckle, and then Sebell started to laugh. Oblivious to them, Idarolan continued his wild garble.

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