Honest Men

Writers: Eimi, Paula
Date Posted: 1st December 2010

Characters: Fymer, Morin, Behos
Description: Morin and Fymer start putting their plan into action with a little help from an 'honest man'
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 11, day 23 of Turn 5

"Fymer, come in." Morin was fixing his seal to an official document as
the harper walked into his office. "Before you make yourself
comfortable, please hand this to the guard outside and tell him it's
urgent business for the captain's eyes only." He handed the letter
over.

"Right," Fymer said, although inside he fumed, what was he now, a
message drudge? He did as he was bid to.

While the harper passed on the message, Morin cleared space on his desk.
It was time to see the handiwork. He looked up as Fymer re-entered the
room. "So, what do you have for me?"

"Let's see," he dropped a pile of hides to the desk. "The marriage
agreement between Tenri of Agate Island and lady Belene of Amethyst
Cliff hold. She was third cousin to the Lord Holder, by the way," Fymer
smoothed out the documents. They looked worn and faded by time, as you
would expect from records several generations past. "She is actual
person, a dead end
in family tree. She was not recorded getting married or having
off-springs."

"Nice touch," Morin grinned, shaking his head in sheer disbelief of
Fymer's talent. He certainly was a lucky find. "Tenri is my new
ancestor, I take it?"

"Yes," Fymer nodded. "I couldn't find a death record for Belene, I
presume it's lost. I went all the way to Amethyst Cliff hold to search
what's left of their records. Their steward was quite helpful. I took
the liberty to smudge the birth Turn in her original birth record,"
Fymer smiled smugly.

"And just why did you tell the Steward you were interested in looking in
their records?" Morin asked, not liking at all the fact that his
presence could be verified by a witness. "You better have been wearing
knots with colors that don't belong here."

"I was wearing only my harper knots, no hold colours. I told him the
truth of sorts, that I was tracing the ancestry of someone who believed
to have had relatives living in Amethyst Cliff hold before Plague,"
Fymer replied.

And he probably took a dragon to get there too. Morin would make sure
Fymer would not call so much attention to himself again. "You are _not_
to get off that boat at Agate Island, is that clear?"

"Yes, it is," Fymer realized that he might had overstepped his bounds.

Morin knew the harper would not disobey him. He wouldn't dare. "Show
me what you've prepared for their records, then."

"Here," Fymer said and handed him the records. They looked old, at least
four generations old.

His eyes scanned over the document. "This is the marriage contract?"

Fymer nodded.

Morin flipped to the next page, and the next. "Birth certificates...
Certificates of marriage... What about me? Do you have a birth
certificate for me? We can't say I or my father were born at Agate
Island."

"No, you were born near here," Fymer showed him a document.

"That will need to be fixed. I would rather have been born far
from here. I don't want even my Holder's to question my lineage." Too
close and people might try to find out about where he came from. "Find
some little spot a couple sevendays journey from here that was
completely wiped out by the Plague and it's people were scattered to the
winds. It's easier to hide that way."

"All right, I shall make you a Plague orphan then," Fymer replied. Morin
certainly looked old enought to be born around then. He was himself
after-Plague generation. One who's mother had died in attempt to
repopulate Pern.

They both looked up from the documents as they heard a knock at the
door. "Ah," Morin said with an approving nod. Timely as always. "That
would be your travel companion. Come in!"

A guard opened the door. "I have the prisoner here, sir."

"Is he shackled?" Morin asked.

"As you requested, sir," the guard affirmed.

"Good, bring him in." He shot a glance over at the harper, wondering if
he how he was going to handle this little surprise.

A man dressed in a plain sleeveless tunic and equally drab and dirty
pants shuffled into the room. His head was shaved, though there was a
strong hint of blonde stubble growing. The hairs on his chin were a
little longer, showing red mixed with grey. Though he was only
twenty-seven turns, he looked easily ten turns older than that.

"You may leave us," Morin nodded to the guard. When the door had closed
behind him he turned to his friend. "Fymer, do you remember Brehos?"

"Unfortunately yes," Fymer said, voice full of disgust.

"Good." Morin turned his full attention to the man bound by chains. He
had certainly lost quite a bit of strength in the last turn and a half,
but not not much of strength. Cleaned up, Brehos would suit his purpose
perfectly. "Do you remember what you said to me at the end of your
trial? Before I sentenced you to life in the mines?"

Brehos blinked a couple times, trying to recall. "I... said I was
innocent. I said I didn't kill that girl. It wasn't me."

"That's not all you said. The words that stuck in my mind were 'I am an
honest man'. Do you remember those words?" The Holder's eyes narrowed
as he watched the prisoner's eyes.

"I... I suppose so." He looked from Fymer to Morin, unsure and wary of
what was happening around him.

Morin showed no fear of the man as he walked straight up to him. "And
_are_ you an honest man, Brehos? I will know if you lie
to me. I can't stand people who lie to me. Isn't that so, Fymer?"

"That's so certain, sir," Fymer replied with his most driest tone.

The Holder looked the man straight in the eye, his eyes
narrowing slightly. "Did you do what they accused you of? Did you
break into Holder Plegar's cot, mistreat his daughter and then strangle
her in her bed? Don't lie to me. I hate being lied to."

Brehos shifted uncomfortably under Morin's intense gaze. His gaze
shifted to Fymer's nervously, wondering just what was going on. Was
this a trap? "I swear, it's as I said. I never touched the girl."

"I would hate to find out you were purposefully trying to deceive me."
Yes, this man would do very well
for what he had in mind. "At the same time, I hate to see injustice
done in my own Hold. I would never keep an honest man in the mines. So
what would you say if I gave
you a chance to prove to me once and for all that you are, as you say,
an honest man?"

Brehos looked between Morin and Fymer once more, uncertain if his ears
were playing tricks. Could this be his chance? "I'd say yes. Whatever
I must do, I'll do it!"

Morin's eyes narrowed once more as his gaze bore into Brehos'. "Even
kill?"

The prisoner didn't hesitate. "Whatever you ask of me. Just get me out
of the mines."

"Well," Morin laid a hand on his shoulder. "Let's hope it doesn't come
to that. You do this for me, Brehos, and I will swear right now on my
life that you will never see the inside of a mine again." He was sure
at least _he_ was an honest man. Most of the time.

Last updated on the January 21st 2011

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Honest Men