A True Lord

Writers: Eimi
Date Posted: 15th February 2012

Characters: Morin, Almonteo
Description: Morin becomes Lord of Sunstone and history is made...
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 5, day 28 of Turn 6
Notes: This is the control post for the Sunstone Gather. You are now free to post! I apologize for the delay!

Almonteo

The crowd suddenly fell silent as the Master Harper ascended the steps
and stood behind a table on which had been placed a quill, a bottle of
ink, a candle and stick of wax. Morin took his place beside him as
Almonteo's Harper-trained voice carried over the crowd, reading out the
charter that would be their binding contract with their new Lord Holder.
It contained their rights and responsibilities as Holders and as
administrators. They would each be given a copy, printed on fine
quality paper and rimmed with a boarder illustrating all of Sunstone's
virtues and printed by the Printer Hall. It was a gift to them all from
Morin himself, and not one that came cheaply.

But for all the effort and expense he had put into the document, he did
not hear a word of it as Master Almonteo read it out them all. He
didn't need to. He had written the darn thing. And what did it tell
him that he had not known for Turns? What power did it give him that he
did not already have? There was only one privilege it granted him - it
recognized him formally as Lord Holder, allowing him a seat on the
council among his peers.

**Peers...** he thought, hiding a slight scowl behind a long-practiced
neutral face. **Show me, who is my peer?** There was not a single man
among that 'council' who could hold a candle to him. Which of them
could claim his achievements? Which one could boast of a single glory
that outshone his own? Did they bleed for that they have? Toiled for
what they Hold? Sweat for what they've built? Starved for what they've
amassed? All they had was handed down to them through generations of
their ancestors. And how did they earn such a privilege? By being born
of the Blood.

And just where did this Blood come from? Why, from men like Morin. Men
with vision, with guts, with the intelligence to lead men and the
strength to hold onto their allegiance. Men who didn't have to have
their destiny handed to them on a plate of silver. They were men who
made their own fate. Those men had real Blood running in their veins,
not the muddied water that now seemed to pass for it. The same spirit,
the same vision, the same Blood ran truer in Morin's veins than any of
those who would try to call themselves 'Lords', for all that he could
not legitimately claim it.

**That harbor is mine. I built it. That lighthouse is mine. I
conceived it. That Hold is mine. I designed it. These people are
mine. I assembled them. This land is mine. I claimed it. Who on Pern
at this very moment can call themself a true 'Lord' but me?**

Soon, he would marry, and he would produce legitimate heirs that would
carry on his legacy. But he would not just hand all he has created off
to the first son to come along. He would choose carefully which one was
to succeed him, groom him for the task and make him work to earn his
place. His heirs would not be like the other Lord's. His sons would
know how to use their hands for something other than just sitting on,
but to build something. Their mouths would be used for more than just
eating and drinking, but to command men. And their minds would not be
consumed with simple pleasures, but with learning, imagining, and
creating. Morin's legacy, and that ambitious spirit would run hot in
their veins. That would be their true inheritance.

"Morin of Sunstone," Almonteo said, laying the charter down on the table
before him. "Would you please sign this Charter and affix your seal as
your pledge to your people to uphold it justly as their Lord Holder?"

Morin nodded as he took up the quill, dipped it in the ink and scribbled
his signature across the bottom. Holding the wax over the candle, he
heated it until drops fell onto the page. Into that he stamped the new
seal of the Lords of Sunstone Seahold. But he was not done yet. Out of
his pocket he took a small knife, and after pulling out the blade he
slid it across his thumb, letting little drops of blood rise to the
surface. Pressing his bloody thumbprint into the paper, he looked out
to the thousands of pairs of eyes staring back at him.

**You people want to see history? Look now! I _am_ 'the Blood'.**

Last updated on the February 16th 2012

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A True Lord