按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
By dawn； his feet were so cold and clumsy in the soaked heavy mining boots that he stumbled more frequently and his teeth began to chatter with the chill。 When the stream broadened and he was more often up to his waist than his knees； he could go no farther。 Seizing hold of shrubs that lined the stream； he clambered out of the water and hid himself in the thick vegetation； curling up to preserve what warmth remained in his body。
Nothing disturbed him until the ache of an empty belly finally roused him。 It was far into the morning for the sun was well up。 He had e much farther than he had thought possible。 His rough work clothing had partially dried but the minehold emblem woven into shirt and pants would mark him as a fugitive。 He needed food and new clothing in whichever order he could get them。
Carefully he emerged from the bushes and； to his utter astonishment； saw a small cothold directly across the stream that was now wide as a river。 He watched the cothold a long time before he decided that there was no one working inside or nearby。 He waded across the river； his bruised feet feeling every rock； and hid again in the bushes until he was sure he heard no human sounds。
The cothold was empty but someone lived here。 A herder； perhaps； for there were hides pushed back on the rough sleeping platform made supple by long usage。 Food first！ He didn't even wash the tubers he found in a basket by the hearth。 Then he saw cold gray grease in the iron skillet； set a…tilt on the hearth。 He dipped the raw vegetables into it； relishing the salt in the grease as flavoring。 The worst of his hunger momentarily assuaged； he searched for more to eat and a change of clothing。 As a younger man he would never have filched so much as a berry or an apple from a neighbor's yard。 His circumstances were as much altered now as the tenets of conduct his father had beaten into him。 He had a duty to perform； a wrong to right； and a theory he must confirm or forget。
His stomach churned with the raw； greasy food he had eaten。 He had to eat more slowly or lose everything。 Vomit was a hard smell to hide。 In a tightly covered container that would protect its contents from vermin； he found three quarters of a wheel of cheese。 He thought how long such food would sustain him in his escape…but the fewer traces of his passing were noticeable； the better。 While the cotholder might not notice the loss of a few tubers and grease in a pan； the disappearance of too much cheese would be a different matter。 So he found a thin old knife blade in the back of a drawer and sliced off a section of cheese； enough to provide him a small meal but； he hoped； not enough to be instantly noticed。 Almost as if his restraint were being rewarded； he found a dozen rolls of travel rations in another tin box and took two。 He would surely find more food if he was not greedy now。 He believed in that sort of justice。
He removed the bandage on his forehead； a painful task even when he had soaked his face in the cold stream water。 One or two spots bled a little； but as no blood trailed down his face； he left the wound open to the clean mountain air。
He went back to the cothold to look for clothing but found none。 He did take one of the older hides。 He could not count on finding shelter； and though this was the fifth month； the nights could still be chilly。
Leaving the cothold； he investigated the tracks that led off in several directions。 A flash of sunlight on something metallic caught his eyes and he whirled toward the river； afraid that he had been discovered。 It took him much longer to locate the source of the reflection： the oarlocks of a small boat。 Under the thick shrubbery along the bank； the boat was almost invisible； tethered to a branch with a rope so worn by constant rubbing against a half…submerged stone that the slightest pull would part the last strands。
He provided the pull and； stepping carefully into the boat； used his stick to push out into the current of the river。 Perhaps he should have tried to find the oars； but he felt an urgency to be away from this cothold and as far down the river as possible。 The little craft was just long enough so that if he cocked his knees； he could lie flat and be unseen from the shore。
That night； when he saw the glowbaskets of a sizeable small holding…not a large enough one to have a watchwher on guard…he propelled himself to the bank and tied up the boat by the tether he had mended with strips of his tattered shirt during his long day afloat。
Luck was with him。 First he found a basket of avian eggs left on a hook outside a side door to the beasthold。 He sucked the contents of three； and carefully deposited three more in his shirt； tucked into his waistband。 Then his eye caught the shirts and pants drying on bushes by the flat river stones where women would have washed them。 He found clothes to fit him well enough and corrected the positions of others to make it appear that what he had chosen might simply have fallen into the river and drifted away。
In the beasthold for a second look； though the animals moved restlessly in the presence of a stranger； he found bran and an old battered scoop。 Tomorrow he would boil the bran and add the eggs for a good hot meal。 Suddenly he heard voices and immediately returned to his boat； pushing it carefully out into the current and lying down； lest he be seen。
The night swallowed the voices and all he heard was the gurgle of the river in which the boat moved so silently。 Above him were the stars。 The old harper who had taught all the youngsters at the Glasscrafthall had told him the names of some of them。 Indeed； the old man had mentioned meteorites and the Ghosts that appeared in bright arcs in Turnover skies。 Shankolin had never believed that those bright sparks were the ghosts of dead dragons； but some of the younger children had。
The brightest stars never changed。 He recognized the sparkle of Vega…or was it Canopus？ He couldn't remember the names of the other stars in the spring sky。 In trying to recall those names and when he had learned them； his mind inexorably returned to Aivas and all that。。。 that thing。。。 had done to him。 He'd only recently heard； in a repetition of very old news； that his father had been exiled to an island in the Eastern Sea with the Lord Holders and other craftsmen who had tried to stop the Abomination。
Now that the source was silenced； they'd be able to talk men and women into returning to their senses。 The Red Star brought Thread。 The Dragonriders fought Thread in the skies； and people lived fortably enough between Passes。 That had been the order of life for centuries…an order that should be preserved。 When he had heard that the Masterharper of Pern； a personage Shankolin had admired； had been abducted； he had been deeply disturbed。 But his ears had been blocked for Turns before he gradually recovered some hearing and learned about that part of the incident。 He had never clearly heard why the Masterharper had been found dead in the Abomination's chamber。 But it； too； had been dead…〃terminated；〃 one of the miners said。 Had Master Robinton e to his senses and turned off the Abomination？ Or had the Abomination k