The Lighthouse Keeper

Writers: Devin, Estelle, Yvonne
Date Posted: 29th October 2021
Series: The Lighthouse Keeper

Characters: M'gan, N'vanik, Onook
Description: N'vanik and M'gan investigate the lighthouse with Journeywoman Onook.
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 8, day 6 of Turn 10
Notes: Mentioned: Alina, J'ackt

N'vanik

M'gan waited with Isarth in the Weyrbowl, gently scratching the bronze's eye ridges while he waited for the Weyrleader and the starsmith, and in his mind, ran through the possible ways the visit to the lighthouse might go.

**Maybe it's all a mistake.** But the more he thought about everything he'd been told, the less likely that seemed.

Loseth glided down from his ledge and landed near the other bronze. N'vanik raised a hand in greeting from his perch on Loseth's neck. The starsmith should be joining them any moment. N'vanik wasn't exactly looking forward to this trip but he did want to have this matter
settled.

A moment later Onook rounded the corner of the path, a flight jacket slung over one shoulder. She waved when she saw the two bronzeriders waiting. "Weyrleader, Wingleader. Thank you for meeting me. If you'll excuse me, I do hope that this turns out to be a pleasure jaunt."

"So do I." M'gan's agreement was heartfelt. He gave Isarth's snout a final pat and walked around, reaching up for the riding straps as the
bronze crouched. "Need a hand mounting up, Journeywoman?"

"Thank you." Onook paused, looking up at the straps above her head. "My deepest apologies, Isarth. This is _not_ going to be graceful."

The bronze let out a whuff of warm breath, a deep, amused rumble thrumming in his throat. M'gan swung himself up with the ease of many Turns of practice and held out a hand to assist her. "Don't worry - he doesn't mind." He grinned. "Graceful or not, he'll have forgotten by tomorrow, anyway."

"I can only hope you will be a gentleman and pretend to forget as well." Onook took his hand and after a bit of a struggle, managed to
seat herself behind M'gan without kicking Isarth in the ribs too badly. She was a little red-faced and out of breath, but managed a bright smile as the bronzerider strapped her in. "You'd think I'd get better with practice."

"Maybe you should head out to weather stations more often," N'vanik said with a slight smile. "I could have the sweepriders take you."

"And maybe that's what Junior Journeymen are for," Onook said dryly. "I will take you up on your offer, Weyrleader, but on their behalf. If this whole business has highlighted anything, it's that we should be keeping a closer eye on our distant outposts."

"It'll be good for them to see a fellow craftsman from time to time, I expect. Catch up on the latest developments." M'gan hadn't the least
idea what starsmiths would find to talk about, but he knew he'd find it hard being apart from other dragonriders for long. He turned to face
forward, resting a hand on Isarth's neck. "Ready to go?"

The startsmith tightened her grip on the riding straps. "Yes, thank you."

The dragons took to the skies, climbing to a safe height before going /between/. A few breaths later they came out over the lighthouse and
began to spiral down for a landing. N'vanik scanned the area, but he didn't see anything unusual.

They landed in the clearing and Onook pushed back her riding goggles. "Halloo the lighthouse!" she called.

They were met by silence; the wind in the leaves, the crash of waves against the rocks and hum of the ever-present insects. Finally the door
slowly opened and the Journeyman stepped out, looking weary. He sat on the front step, resting his wrists on his knees.

Onook gripped M'gan's elbow. "This man is not Master Rehaan," she hissed.

He glanced at N'vanik with a brief shake of his head and a grimace, realizing how much he'd been hoping it would be a simple misunderstanding between wingriders. There weren't many good ways this could turn out now. "You don't recognize him at all?"

The Starsmith shook her head, her lips pressed in a furious line.

"All right." M'gan drew in a breath, then walked out, away from the dragons towards the lighthouse, and the man sitting on the step. He
stopped a few paces away and cleared his throat.

"Journeyman? It's M'gan, rider of Isarth. You remember me. This is N'vanik, my Weyrleader, and Journeywoman Onook." He waited for him to look up. "We've got a - ah, a problem."

"What happened to Journeyman Rehaan? The real one?" N'vanik asked. The man didn't look hostile, but things could change quickly and N'vanik watched him carefully. Certainly it was possible this man had murdered Rehaan and taken his place, though there could be some other explanation.

"Master Rehaan," the man said sharply. Then he gestured toward the row of trees that led from the little peninsula into the forest. "He's dead. I built a cairn for him over there."

Onook hissed between her teeth. "You killed him."

M'gan gave her a warning glance and held up his hand, palm outwards as if to calm the sudden, knife-sharp tension in the air. "Then who are you? And why did you tell my wingrider that you were the Starsmith here?"

The man on the front steps sighed. "I don't know. I just... did. There's not a lot of options around here."

"How did Master Rehaan die?" N'vanik asked. He wanted the man to say it.

The stranger stared at his hands. "He was old."

"All right." M'gan hardly knew what to make of it. J'pil had said the starsmith was elderly, and surely more men died of old age than by
murder. If this man was Holdless, though, those odds changed. "But you still haven't explained who you are, and how you came to be here."

"Your guarded answers aren't doing you any favors," N'vanik said. "So we can imagine the worst or you can tell us the truth."

The man snorted. "Fine. I'm Holdless. I killed someone. I escaped from a prison mine a few turns back and wandered here, where Rehaan gave me food and a place to sleep in exchange for chopping wood and helping him with chores. I learned a bit from him, then he up and died one day. He was old. I was going to go but then this greenrider landed and I just... lied. She didn't know any better. It's been a long time since I had regular meals and somewhere comfortable to sleep. But then you showed up," he said, nodding at M'gan. "And I got greedy. So here I am."

There was a silence for a moment. M'gan had so many questions - primarily, who had he killed, and why - but somehow, it didn't occur to
him to disbelieve the man's story. According to the law they ought to return him to the mine he'd come from. If they didn't, and a new starsmith was posted here, and the man returned... He supposed that was N'vanik's call, and silently asked Isarth to talk to the other bronze, ask him what he wanted to do. He wondered what Alina would think.

"We'll have to tell the Smith Hall what happened," he said carefully. "Master Rehaan may have had family there."

"But we don't necessarily have to send you back," N'vanik told the holdless man. "Could be you'd disappeared when we got here, but that
depends on what you tell me later when we have a private chat." Maybe he had a good reason for what he'd done, maybe he regretted it. And maybe he was a very good liar... but the man sitting in front of them now certainly looked more like someone resigned to their fate than like a cold-blooded killer.

"The Smith Hall might have something to say about that," Onook said darkly. She was still glaring at the man on the porch. "We need to get a Healer out here to check Rehaan-- Rehaan's body. There's no reason to believe some Holdless man who wandered out of the woods who tells a pretty story."

The man on the porch grimaced. "I wouldn't trust me either, but Rehaan was kind to me. I wouldn't have hurt him. He was old, he fell and he just... never recovered."

"If Rehaan chose to give this man a chance, wouldn't it be honoring the master to give him a chance too?" N'vanik asked. "Provided he's
actually telling the truth about what happened, of course. As you said, a Healer should be able to determine the cause of death."

"I'll ask Isarth to have a wingrider to bring someone from the Infirmary," M'gan suggested. Perhaps one - or two - of his bigger,
tougher riders. They clearly couldn't leave this man here alone; he'd have long since cleared out by the time they returned. "Can you show us the grave?"

"You're not just going to flame me now?" the man asked. "Because you should."

"Why?" N'vanik asked.

The man shrugged, a resigned expression on his face. "That's what you do, right? Or would it damage the lighthouse?"

"Isarth and I have never flamed anything but Thread." M'gan frowned, more than a touch of irritation in his voice. Where did holders get
these grotesque ideas? It hadn't been this way in the North. "Nor would any other dragonpair."

The man made a defeated gesture with his hands. "It would be preferable to going back to the mines. A kindness, if you would."

"There are far better ways to go than flaming," N'vanik said. "We can discuss your options, but first I want to know: who did you kill, and why?"

There was a long pause as the Holdless man eyed up the two riders, then the cleared gap between the dragons and the lighthouse. "My
brother," he said after a long moment. "He was married to a girl and... he didn't treat her well. I'd do it again. My parents set the
guards on me and when they came, I hurt one of them bad enough to put him in bed for the rest of his life. That I regret. But I don't regret my brother. And I never laid a hand on Rehaan."

His own brother, but it sounded like he deserved it. "If I took you to Dolphin Cove, would you swear not to hurt anyone there?" N'vanik asked.

The man gave him a long look. "Why would you take me there... Weyrleader?"

"Because you can't stay here and I don't feel right sending you back to the mines," N'vanik told him. "You wouldn't be the first holdless
person that found his way to the Weyr."

"You're not worried I'll murder, steal and set fire to your Hatching Caverns?"

Still mounted on Isarth, Onook snorted softly. "What territory are you from?"

"Emerald Falls Hold territory," the man said promptly. "Perhaps you've heard of it."

"We have." M'gan's reply was cautious. He did know, from various warnings, that the guards in that Hold weren't known for their scrupulous sense of justice, nor for gentle treatment of Holdless people. Still, they'd best make sure the man hadn't been imprisoned for robbing little old aunties of their savings. Or murdering elderly Masters. His brow furrowed. "Of course, the Weyrleader's offer depends upon your story checking out. If anything you've said wasn't true, now would be the time to confess."

"Unless you'd rather we hand you over to the guards," N'vanik said. "Suppose I can't stop you if you're that keen on punishment."

"You'll have to forgive me, but my experience with guards and dragonriders and all your sort hasn't been pleasant," the man said mildly. "The last time I saw dragonriders they were hunting us down from the sky."

"Well, this time a dragonrider is offering you a chance at a new life, if you want it," N'vanik said. "Provided you're telling the truth and you promise not to hurt my people." It was definitely a risk, but N'vanik's instincts were usually right and this man didn't feel like a threat to him.

The man was silent, clearly weighing whether or not he trusted N'vanik-- or any of them-- to keep their word. Eventually he sighed in
resignation and stood. They'd either lie and send him to the mines later, or they'd kill him now. Either way, he was a dead man walking. "Come with me," he said, and headed towards the woods.

N'vanik glanced over at M'gan and Onook. "You can stay here, if you want. I'm following him." He patted his belt knife. "I'll be safe."

}:And I wouldn't let him harm you.:{ Loseth rumbled.

The man led N'vanik into the cool shade of the trees. The wind died as the canopy thickened and the view to the lighthouse became obscured with branches and bracken. Eventually the man stopped in front of a neat pile of stones. The stone at the top of the cairn had been painted white.

He gestured at the cairn. "There's Rehaan."

If this man was lying and had in fact killed old Rehaan, he had at the very least regretted it. This wasn't the action of a cold blooded killer who wanted to hide evidence. "We'll have to dig him up and have a healer examine his body," N'vanik said.

"Then you can do that. I won't." The man crossed his arms over his chest and looked N'vanik up and down. "What did you mean back there,
that you have Holdless people at your Weyr?"

"You really _have_ been isolated out here," N'vanik muttered. "A while ago, one of my riders picked up an injured boy and we took care of him at the Weyr. He'd been living holdless. Even after I found out he'd gotten hurt escaping the guards, I decided to let him stay anyway. He ended up a bronzerider. In fact, he's weyrmated to Alina, the greenrider who's been picking up reports."

The man snorted. "Lucky rider. I'm too old to Impress. You know that."

"Not too old to Craft though."

That provoked a laugh. "I'm probably older than you are, and I've been in the woods since before Thread began to fall. You have no idea."

"You said you learned a bit from Rehaan. If you've got an inclination, you could apprentice as a starsmith," The Weyrleader said. "Most start
as kids, sure, but we've got a number of folks at the Weyr who started a Craft later in life."

"I don't get you," the man said. "I'm a murderer who has been on the run for turns... why are you doing this?"

N'vanik shrugged. "Got a bit of a past myself. And from what you said, it sounds like your brother deserved it. Not that I can admit that officially or anything."

"What sort of past?"

"Hmm, well. Maybe someday we can have a talk about it after I've gotten to know you." Only a handful of people knew about N'vanik's holdless past and he wasn't willing to invite this stranger into his confidence.

The mistrust in the man's eyes grew deeper. He glanced toward the forest, away from the dragons, obviously contemplating running. But his shoulder slumped and he turned back toward the light house. "Best get this over with," he muttered.

M'gan had remained with the dragons, talking quietly with Onook and keeping an eye on the trees where the holdless man had disappeared with the Weyrleader. He didn't think the master was all that happy with the idea of bringing the man to the Weyr, and he couldn't say he was comfortable with it either, but there weren't many other good choices. They certainly couldn't leave him here. He only hoped N'vanik's instincts were right.

When he saw the two of them returning, he relaxed a fraction and stepped away from Isarth's head, with a quizzical look.

N'vanik followed the man back to the lighthouse, wondering if he could say anything to ease his mind. To M'gan he said, "There's a cairn back there, just as he said. Took some care with it, from what I can tell."

The older bronzerider's brows rose in surprise, but he didn't comment. "Shall I take Journeywoman Onook to the Smith Hall, to report Master Rehaan's passing?"

"Passing?" Onook said sharply. She'd gome white when N'vnik had said the word 'cairn', and she turned sorrowful, worried eyes on the
Weyrleader. His words had confirmed her worst fears. "I-- perhaps we'd better return to the Weyr first. I'd prefer to have more information before I contact my Crafthall. They will have questions."

N'vanik nodded. "And we'll need to send a healer to examine the body." He turned to the stranger. "Ever ridden a dragon before?"

"No." He looked up at the dragon, eyeing its sharp teeth and wicked claws.

"I don't think you're a bad person, but I'm also no fool, and _he's_ the reason I'm not worried you'll try to hurt me on the trip." The Weyrleader pointed at the huge bronze. "Go fetch a warm jacket if you have one, or wrap yourself in blankets if you don't. You're going to need it for /between/."

Last updated on the February 6th 2022

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