Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows

Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold

Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold

Elsewhere on Pern
NPC Weyr
River Bluff Weyr
Seacraft Hall

Story Listing
Series Listing

Weyrling Training

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 16th September 2007

Characters: Larstad
Description: Larstad muses over the facts
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 5, day 26 of Turn 4

So, who had stolen the brandy? Larstad sat brooding in his room with a half-empty lunch tray at his elbow and his bandy long legs stretched out before him. He'd taken his boots off only to discover that his left big toe was beginning to poke through his sock. They needed darning. Woman's work.

**Gavrin?** What had the Brandymaster's apprentice done to get whipped, and why was he still working with Merton? He must have been a thief - that was the only crime that Thorril had mentioned warranting a whipping. Larstad shivered, imagining leather singing through the air and licking an unprotected back. It was barbaric, and he wondered how Brandy Hill's holders tolerated such a draconian Lord. Still, for all his rage and violence, Thorril was a just man.
He did what he thought was right, and Brandy Hill had gone through a horrible period after the Plague. **But it's been almost forty turns since the Plague ended... why haven't they gone back to living like normal people?**

Then again, had Pern? The Craftmasters still banned women from the Crafts and used their daughters as chits to make and break alliances.
Half the population couldn't imagine life any other way, and the other half remembered the Plague more than they remembered the time before it. Gavrin had a five year old son, and a child that age would fit into a barrel easily enough. The cooper probably also helped to load barrels into the ageing room and so could sneak in an unusual barrel without anyone noticing anything odd. He disliked Holder Thorril, obviously holding a grudge from when he was whipped but also for the way that Thorril treated Merton. Gavrin, too, was underpaid and ill dressed compared to Thorril and his wife. Perhaps he was right - Thorril was hoarding marks for himself and letting the rest of the Holding eek out a living. Perhaps Gavrin had stolen the brandy for revenge as well to appease his greed. Gavrin he could imagine nailing his son into a barrel, and then creeping through a slumbering Hold to hide the barrels elsewhere. He was fit and strong, and it wouldn't take long to cache the brandy somewhere to sell later, perhaps to a trader's caravan, or perhaps to another Hold if he took a wagon and made the journey himself. He was the Brandymaster's Apprentice. No one would question him having the brandy in his possession. **And he's going to visit his wife's sister this week. I wonder where she lives?** He frowned and sipped at his klah.

**But he seems to admire Merton... a theft of such magnitude would hurt his mentor as well.** Merton obviously meant a lot to Gavrin.
The scars were old, so whatever crime Gavrin had committed obviously hadn't shaken Merton's resolve that Gavrin was the man to replace him. **Maybe it was Merton, instead?** Larstad shook his head, unable to picture the grandfatherly man plotting in a dark room and hoarding his hard-earned brandy.

Then again... **Merton is underpaid and under appreciated. Maybe he's wanting to retire, take his wife and leave for somewhere less...
barbaric. Gavrin would take his place, and he obviously likes him.**
And really, the brandy was more Merton's than Thorril's.
**And maybe it's someone else entirely.** Maybe. Larstad frowned and chewed meditatively on a bun. It was dark and heavy, with crushed seeds of some sort peppering the dough. Tasty, if a dry. "Who else?"

Someone familiar with the ageing rooms and the routines of the Brandymasters and guards. That could be.. anyone who entered the ageing rooms at all. Drudges, maybe? No... the room was dusty and smelled sharply of alcohol and disuse. Who had keys? Thorril, Merton, and Harrit. The crime had been committed by someone without a key, that much was certain. **Unless a key holder stole the brandy in such a way to make it seem as if it had been done by someone without a key...**

Thorril wouldn't have stolen his own brandy, since he seemed to be doing well enough for himself by skimming the Hold's profits.
Merton... was still a suspect. Larstad sighed, not wanting to admit to himself that the white-haired elderly man could be a criminal. The thought of his lily-white, wrinkled back with its partishment skin exposed to a whip's fangs was horrific. Merton was a gentle man.
**But gentle men can still be thieves.** The Smith glanced at the bright tapestry on the wall and wished again for the ticking of a clock to steady his nerves and soothe his agitated mind. It would be much easier to think if he wasn't surrounded by purple rectangles and dark blue circles.

Who else was there? **The son, Rilon, maybe. Thorril doesn't admire him, so maybe this is a way to gain his father's attention? No...
Thorril is a good judge of character, and if he says his own son is slow, then I'll believe him. Well then... Harrit?** But what motivation would the Steward have for stealing brandy? **Greed, I suppose,** Larstad thought, reaching for his klah. **If Gavrin or Merton could be motivated by it, why not Harrit?** The Steward didn't seem smart or bold enough to try to out-think the guards, but then again, appearances were deceiving. The man groveled but that didn't mean that he enjoyed spending time on his knees. Often subservient people didn't know how to act otherwise around people with an inch of authority. And people who were so eager to please their betters sometimes even abused those beneath them. **Perhaps I'll pay Harrit a visit later tonight,** Larstad thought. Except Harrit paid him a visit, instead.

Last updated on the September 17th 2007