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ed for a warm meal before continuing their runs had already heard his usual tale。
〃Why d'you think we call this place Circle？〃 he went on； glancing first at one and then the other。
〃Do tell us；〃 the younger man said； his tone so close to downright rudeness that Chesmic almost didn't continue。
〃Do tell us。〃 The older man with the scarred face spoke more courteously； in a deep； oddly muffled voice。 When he broke off a piece of bread from the big loaf in the center of the table； Chesmic noticed that he was minus the top joint of the first finger on his left hand。
〃Not because it's built round。〃 As he took up his tale again； Chesmic's penetrating glare included everyone at his table and their quiet conversations stopped。 〃Which it ain't。 But； 'cos o' that great hole out there！〃 He pointed in the appropriate direction。 〃Twenty good paces from the front door and twice as deep as the tallest man ever growed。 'Cos that's where that…〃 and now he pointed to the twisted black fragment displayed in a niche in the stone wall； 〃…landed！〃
Of the two guests； only the older man looked at it。 His panion assumed a supercilious smile as he continued to spoon stew into his face。 At least； Chesmic thought； they won't plain they hadn't been well fed at Circle。
〃Nothing pared to what the Fireball did；〃 the younger man said； openly contemptuous。 〃Never should have messed with the Red Star。〃
〃That…〃 Chesmic waggled his hand toward the crater； 〃fell over a thousand Turns ago before Aivas had the dragonriders push the Red Star out of harm's way。〃 He rushed on before the arrogant young man could do more than open his mouth。 〃So it stands to reason there ain't no connection twixt it and the thing what plowed through Crom Minehold。 Both of them are meteorites。〃 He pronounced each syllable。 〃Ain't the first that have fallen。 Fireball was a different thing altogether。 Right？〃 he asked the Runners。
They murmured agreement with him。
〃Does Crom Minehold display its meteorite as you do？〃 asked the older man in his odd speech。
Chesmic couldn't quite place the man's accent。 He was certainly not from Keroon； Keroonians drawled…that is； when they spoke at all。 Nor was he from the eastern coast。 Runners bred there spoke in crisp tones。 West coasters did； too； though they accented some words differently。 That was it。 The man had no accent； no tone to his words： he just spoke them and sometimes blurred the t's and d's and n's。
〃Naw； sold it to the SmithCraftHall for more marks than the mines've earned in Turns。〃 Chesmic did not wholly approve of that sale but it had been their meteorite。 Not that he couldn't have sold his to the SmithCraftHall； if he felt like it； but you couldn't sell something that had been in his family so long。 Wouldn't be right！
〃I heard that they think it's part of the Red Star；〃 the young man said； a sly gleam in his eyes。
〃That's a bundle of snake wallop；〃 Chesmic replied contemptuously。 He pointed skyward。 〃Iffen the Red Star had broke up…which Masters Erragon and Stinar and Wansor has seen through Cove Hold that it hasn't…we'd have rocks falling down all over the planet。 And we don't。〃
〃That Fireball made enough trouble for us；〃 one of the Runners said。
〃It was wrong to move the Red Star；〃 the older man said； his face somber and his voice forbidding。 〃It has circled Pern for centuries and to alter its course is a bad deed。〃
〃Oh； it's still to circle Pern；〃 Chesmic agreed。 〃Just not close enough to drop Thread on us again。〃
〃Thread； and the dragonriders flaming it out of our skies； is tradition。 So many have been broken。 So much has Aivas corrupted our way of life； our traditions。〃
There was something about the man's toneless voice that caught you up in his words but Chesmic knew about traditions。 Runners followed ones that belonged to the first CraftHall to be formed at Fort Hold。
〃There isn't a Runner on any trace on Pern； north or south； that does not follow tradition。 And since you've both finished eating； you'd best make use of the beds that tradition…〃 Chesmic paused to be sure these strangers understood what he meant。〃…requires us to offer travelers during winter。〃 He rose and gestured toward the loft steps。
The older one rose and bowed。 So did the younger man； but his expression was sullen as they both made their way to the sleeping loft。
Mulling over the unease he had felt about that pair； Chesmic recalled the description that Prilla had given of the man who'd stopped her on the trace to carry a message onward。 Definitely it had been the older fellow； for Prilla had mentioned his odd deep voice。 He'd've been wearing a hat； possibly； so the scar wouldn't've been so noticeable。 Of course he'd paid his mark piece for the service or Prilla wouldn't have carried it a stride farther。 But why'd a fellow waylay a Runner when he could have easily brought it to the Station and had it logged on and all in the proper manner？
HARPER HALL
Well into the next month； as the flooded coasts drained and； in most cases； resumed their previous contours； food and materials were sent by almost every inland hold； minor or major on both continents； to sustain and rebuild drowned holds。 Messages bulged Runner pouches and fire…lizards carried more； finding out who needed what and where。 Shipmasters volunteered free cargo space and； on the days between Threadfalls； riders offered the services of their dragons and themselves。 In the atmosphere of renewed friendships and mutual assistance； the unfortunate occurrences at Turn's End faded in the press of other priorities。 The general movement of materiel and people included some of those in whom Pinch had an interest。 He did know that messages were sent； but not to whom or their content。 None of the people he watched so assiduously had fire…lizards； which proved that fire…lizards wouldn't e to just anyone who fed them。 He could never quite get close enough to hear their discreet conferences。 He'd e back to Harper Hall to report； get some new clothes and marks。
He found Sebell in his office； piles of odd…sized papers on his desk； held down by rocks。
〃Well； e to do your share of petitions？〃 Sebell asked； gesturing to the mess。
Pinch groaned and looked away。 〃Bad timing on my part。〃
Traditionally all petitions presented at Turnover were forwarded to the Harper Hall and read by a special group of journeymen and masters who determined which were urgent enough to be submitted to the Council at Telgar on the first of the Third month。 Some of the petitions should have been handled at Hold level。 However； if there were sufficient plaints brought against major or minor Holders； the Council was the best place to decide if the matter should be investigated further。 Pinch was often assigned to get specific information。
〃I'll do my share。 I always do。 I'll look at any in Keroon； Igen； or Bitra…I know most of the troublemakers there anyhow。〃
Sebell gave a little smile。 〃Not much from Bitra so far。 Sousmal seems to be taking such good hold that everyone's happy with him。〃
Pinch widened his eyes； moved one pile of papers to hitch his hip up onto the desk。 〃For now！ How about those sketches I sent you？ Any of that trio known？〃
〃Woman's from Tillek； rather a sour contentious sort； apprenticed to local healer hall but released prior to her third term as unsuitable to the Craft。 Petitioned Lord Ranrel to be given her father's hold in preference to the younger brother who had been named by their father； evidently with a specific instruction that she was not to be considered。 She and the brother had a huge dispute and she left。 Hasn't been seen since Tillek's autumn Gather last Turn。〃
〃So she's holdless？〃
Sebell shrugged； searching briefly in the wide drawer under his desk and finding the three sketches。 〃One of the Traders through here…a Lilcamp…recognized this fellow。〃 He tapped the one with the missing index finger。 〃Travels a lot。 Does his share when asked； can put his hand to a lot of jobs； has a habit of asking questions。 Funny sort of voice； too。〃 He paused。 〃Young Sev mentioned the questions were…how do I put it…provocative。〃
〃Provocative？ And he asked Traders？〃 Pinch was mildly surprised by such gall。
〃They see a lot of people and are smart enough to know what's going on where and how folks are reacting。 Better than Runners who can't stay long anywhere。〃
〃They're helping though；〃 Pinch said。 〃Chesmic up at Circle Hold says he's had strangers in； sending messages； and others leaving them at a Runner Halt； a half mark left to pay carriage。〃
Sebell raised his eyebrows。 〃Overpaying？ Bribing？〃
〃Not when Chesmic tells me。〃
〃Does he know you're Harper？〃
〃Doesn't ask。〃 Pinch's eyes danced with amusement。 〃By the bye；〃 he added； his grin turning malicious； 〃did you know that the window glass that broke during the shock wave was all made by Master Norist？ None of Master Morilton's shattered！ Another point for our new technology。〃 Then he cocked his head。 〃Do we know； officially or unofficially； if the…ah…exiles survived the Flood？〃
Sebell pursed his lips and regarded his panion。 〃Has there been a question about that？〃
〃Not in so many words but it might be handy to know。〃
〃And you're curious？〃
〃Part of it。〃 Pinch's shrug was nonmittal。
〃As I understand it； one of the natural attributes of a proper exile is that no one； searching in a ship for dissidents； would find a beach to land on。 Many of such islands are sheer…faced cliffs。 The relevant ones were drenched but not drowned。 What's the other part of it？〃
〃A snippet of conversation I overheard…misinformation； actually…that I'd like to honestly…〃 He put his hand over his heart。 〃…genuinely； sincerely； trustworthily repudiate。 As I was saying； I suspect our plotters； and perhaps the ingenious scum who assembled the pamphlets； that so distressed Master Crivellan； lurk in the foothills of Keroon where dwell many with insufficient teachering to argue； and no interest in what happens to the rest of the planet。 Did you identify that third chap？〃
〃He looks slightly familiar but I can't place him。〃
〃Nor can I。 He resembles half a dozen men I know； same age； same height； same general features； but he seems to have no morals or ethics。 He does have some responsibilities that he has to attend to from time to time or a person he makes reports to。 He may be a younger Holder son； not likely to succeed； he holds his nose a lot。 You've seen the type； though he adapts to his surroundings better than Third and Fifth do。〃
〃Third and Fifth？〃
Pinch made a face。 〃They go by the numbers。 The one woman's referred to as Fourth。 I think the original second is dead。 I got the distinct impression that they're glad he is since he objected to some of their plans。 Third's the big one； Fourth the female。 Seven in all or at least seven who e to the hill retreat from time to time。 I'd suspected Sixth was from Tillek； with that flat nasal twang。 Third's traveled…as we know…and Fourth's been in so many places I can't tell where she came from。 Definitely Third is in it for money and sport。 I think Third is genuinely concerned about too much technology。 Fourth uses Tradition as a reason to exist。 Her thinking's skewed。 She wants to lead and she hasn't got the personality for it。 She's too concerned about doing things the old way； the right way； the way she was taught that ought to be the way everyone does it。〃 Pinch paused。 〃Too hidebound to know the color of her pelt。〃
〃Are they planning something？〃 Sebell asked。
〃They act like it； all this leaving of messages at Runner Halts so the sender can't be identified。〃
〃How do they collect messages； then？〃
〃I suspect one of their docile hill folk do。 I asked at Wide Bay…Stationmaster Arminet knows me…and he remarked； casual like； that a lot of hill folk were getting messages。〃
Sebell rubbed his chin thoughtfully。 〃They must know that now most healer halls lock away their stores…and use Master Morilton's glass。〃 He gave Pinch a telling look。 〃The Glass Halls have shifted healer hall work to more secure places； the SmithCraftHalls have started using digital lock systems。。。〃
〃And Aivas scores another posthumous victory over vandalism；〃