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Just Rewards

Writers: Anika, Miriah, Yvonne
Date Posted: 9th February 2015

Characters: Yarmel, Olov, Peidre
Description: Yarmel receives his just rewards
Location: Elsewhere on Pern, Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 11, day 1 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: Bryvin, Yriadha


"I'll be back twice a month, woman." Yarmel snapped down to his wife,
who shied back at the tone. "And you'll get my pay from my mother when
its time, so stop asking about it. I'll expect the house to be clean
and dinner prepared for when I am home." He reached to grip at her
bottom, leaving no doubt as to what else he expected.

Calhema knew better than to wince or make any other expression than
eagerness. "But...the child? Will you be back for the birth?" Her hand
hovered over her abdomen, the swelling from her fourth pregnancy not
yet apparent. She was hoping that this time the child would be a boy
and not another girl as had happened the past three births; her
husband was getting angrier with her apparent failure to provide him
with a son.

He stared at her for a moment and shrugged. "Probably not. If it's a
boy, then I'll request the time home."

She nodded and when he released her, stepped away. He said little to
his daughters, the youngest watching from the arms of the oldest, a
twelve turn old. His seven turn old daughter hung on to her mother's
hand, watching with wide eyes. Yarmel turned away without a word and
mounted the runner, settling on the saddle. He kicked the runner into
a quick canter, heading away from his home and didn't see the tension
ease from his wife and daughters' shoulders.

Several candlemarks later, Yarmel was halfway to his new station, the
mines. He was looking forward to wielding the authority that Bryvin
had granted him; quite possibly, Yarmel thought, it could be a
precursor to other promotions. The guard captain was getting older,
after all.

Piedre stepped out seemingly from no-where leading a lame runner.
Rather than his normally drab tunic and trousers, his clothes were
bright and of a slightly better cut to offer the appearance of someone
with a station he could not rightfully claim. "Oy there," he waved to
get Yarmel's attention.

Yarmel reined in his runner, letting it side step as he peered at the
stranger. He frowned and nodded his own greeting, his eye going to the
runner. He didn't dismount and settled on his runner. "Afternoon."

"I am so relieved to have met up with some one," Peidre prevaricated,
affecting the cultured speech of someone well born. Stopping the
former guard had been the main objective, though getting him to
dismount would be an added boon. He knew Olav was in place and ready
either way. "I was heading to Sunstone when my runner went lame."

"A pity." Yarmel's face showed little sympathy, but he eyed the
runner. "Perhaps it's a stone in a shoe." He sighed and then shrugged,
swinging his leg over and dismounting from his runner. Perhaps the
high born man didn't know enough about runners to actually care
properly for them, but it would not hurt to aid the man in the chance
that he was acquainted with Lord Bryvin. "Bring him here. I'll check."

And he was off his runner. Olov grinned from his hiding place, then
crept out on feline-soft feet. Piedre was yammering on about something
as he walked his runner closer to cover any noise the big man made.
Yarmel's runner turned to watch him approach but the guard was too
daft to pick up on the cue. Olov stepped forward in a rush, viciously
cracking Yarmel over the back of his head with a polished wood baton
before dropping it and pulling the guard's arms back in a lock. Yarmel
was big but Olov was bigger. "Regards from Bryvin," he hissed in the
man's ear.

Yarmel was not prepared for the crack of pain that seemed to split his
skull. His legs crumpled beneath him, and his arms jerked as they were
caught and pulled upwards. Confusion appeared in his eyes as he heard
the words from what seemed to be far away and spittle dripped from his
lips as blood streamed down the back of his skull.

"I hear you enjoy causing others pain," Peidre said, his voice
completely changed from the affected tones of a noble as he approached
Yarmel while pulling on a sort of glove made from the paws and claws
of a large feline. "I can relate to that." He then proceeded to slash
viciously across Yarmel's front, tearing through clothes and skin.
Though he'd rather use his precious blade, this needed to appear like
a tragic mishap.

Stunned, dazed and barely conscious, the first slash across his chest
was answered by a gurgling scream of pain as Yarmel's skin tore and
blood streamed down his chest. His words were slurred and high
pitched. "Stop! Please, sweet Faranth, stop! I've done nothing to you!"

"Sorry, mate. Just a job." Olov began dragging Yarmel off the road.
There was a small creek just cut off from the path by a thick tangle
of trees; it would be easier to get rid of the evidence there. He made
eye contact with Piedre as soon as they were out of sight of the road;
hopefully the knife man would get the hint and make it quick.

With a resigned sigh, Peidre conceded to Olov's unspoken order and
brought the claw up to Yarmel's throat, puncturing the critical artery in
his neck and watching the light fade from the man's eyes.

There was a gurgle of protest as blood poured and Yarmel slowly
slumped with a whimper. "Mother...I want my..." His voice trailed his
pupils dilating as life left him. The look on his face was one of
denial and confusion as his weight dropped completely on the man
holding him.

Giving Olov a nod, Peidre reached to pull Yarmel's belt knife and
smear it with blood before wiping it with a piece of feline fur he had
with him. He would toss the body and see if there were anything else
significant and identifying to be left about. Bryvin had said he
didn't want the body found, but Peidre had done his homework and not
only was this former guard's mother the Headwoman, but he had
brothers. Somehow he doubted that the family would just quietly
accept an unexplained disappearance. So, much like painting a canvas
or writing a Harper's ballad, Piedre would erase all traces of he and
Olov and leave only the clues of how the tragedy might have played
out. Olov would dispose of the body and they would see that the
runner made it's way back to Sunstone Hold in a few days time. If
someone came looking, they would find the scene of horrible misfortune
but nothing more.

Last updated on the February 10th 2015


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All references to worlds and characters based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction are © Anne McCaffrey 1967, 2013, all rights reserved, and used by permission of the author. The Dragonriders of Pern© is registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey, used here with permission. Use or reproduction without a license is strictly prohibited.