Chap. 137 Confined to boring quarters

Chap. 137 Confined to boring quarters

I never realized how boring it can be when no one is here, he thought. 

He was amazed at how empty the weyr seemed. Not that it was totally unpeopled. The operations of everyday life remained: the cooks were still at work, livestock still needed feeding and mucking out, small children were still being cared for, those who were ill or injured were, like him, in their weyrs and their caregivers with them. The few remaining Oldtimers were sitting in the warm sun on the beach, swapping stories. 

But the vast majority of the weyrfolk were at Singing Waters Hold, harvesting. 

K'ndar, though, was "confined to quarters". It was far more tedious than he would have expected. 

Maybe if I were really sick, he thought, I can understand, but all I've got is a hurt nose. 

Once he'd awakened from the fellis juice, Billek had told him he would not be working today.

"I let M'rvin know that I've grounded you, at least for today," the healer said.

"If I flew, would something bad happen to me?" K'ndar asked, as he got up from the bunk in the clinic.

"I've never heard of it something bad happening," he'd said, "but then, before today, the only broken noses I've treated have been on us groundpounders. I have no idea how the blood vessels in your nose-you bled pretty copiously-would respond to going between or reaching altitude on your dragon. So, erring on the side of caution, I'd like for you to stay home, no riding  today. Do you need some more fellis? Your nose will probably start to hurt once it wears off," Billek said.

"No, please, I don't know what is in fellis, but it made me feel so strange, almost sick to my stomach," K'ndar said.

"Aye, it's powerful stuff, it is, and you seem to be overly sensitive to it. I wish I'd known, I'd not have given you as big a dose, but I had no idea you'd never had it before. Now I do. But here, take some numbweed, it might do the trick if it starts to hurt too badly," Billek said.

 He handed K'ndar a small jar. "Remember, I want to see you tomorrow morning. I will judge, then, if it's safe for you to ride," he said. 

"Yes, sir. Thank you for fixing my nose," K'ndar said.

Billek grinned. "You're welcome. That was an easy fix. I'm betting my boots I'll have at least one knife injury come in and I'm SURE to have heat injuries, just like yesterday," he said, ruefully. "For a weyr that experiences hot weather in the summer, most people still don't understand they need to drink water. A LOT. Klah doesn't do the job of keeping people hydrated, never mind anything alcoholic!" he said, shaking his head. 

But, he realized, it kept him busy and at a weyr he had learned to love. I'd rather be here fixing broken noses than back at Healer Hall, with a doctor hovering over my shoulder picking at my every action with criticism rather than advice.

So K'ndar had returned to his weyr, his unexpected exemption from having to throw 40+kilogram hay bales up over his head most welcome, if leaving him feeling a bit guilty. It would give him time to catch up on transcribing his field notebooks. 

Siskin was overjoyed to have him home. He burbled and wheeped for several minutes, fussing over K'ndar like a mother cat who'd located a lost kitten.

He was very upset. He cried  when you were sleeping. He didn't want to stay here with me. 

He scratched the blue fire lizard's head. "It's okay, now, Siskin, I know you were trying to protect me. Good lad, you are such a good boy."

I was worried too. Rath told me B'rost was in M'rvin's office. 

Hmmm. He felt a bit of schadenfreude. Standing around 'fanning a worker'? My arse, he thought.  Guess B'rost will get a taste of some bitter medicine. But WHY was he so angry?

He had a meeting with the Weyrleader?

That is what I know. I didn’t hear the conversation and I was listening to you.

Good. Called on his actions by the Weyrleader. That wouldn't go easy…M'rvin was a fair man,  but he wasn't one to let a miscreant get away with things like punching someone in the nose for no reason. 

Do you know why he hit me?

Raventh pinged Corvuth.

He is…jealous? I don't know what jealous means.

It means, when you see..um, when ..well, for instance, if a dragon you know has killed a bigger beast than you, and you are angry because it wasn't you who got it. 

But you still have a beast, right? If you're still hungry, you get another

It's very complicated. In humans, it can be um..let's say a woman loves me, and some other man is angry because he wants her to love him, so he gets mad at ME. That's jealousy.

That's confusing. This is what confuses dragons more than anything, you humans and all your feelings, so many all at once. How can you feel so many feelings at the same time? So many of them are opposite from the other. Sometimes we just want to stop your mind talk when you're feeling feelings. 

The word for feelings is 'emotions'. 

Emotions. So many of your emotions are like wherries fighting each other. You love and hate another human at the same time. Doesn't that hurt your brain?

Sometimes it does. Most of the time it does. It confuses us, too. But we can't stop it. 

I am glad I am a dragon with one emotion at a time. Sometimes humans have so many emotions in their minds we don't know what to say or do. Your emotions are like prey when we go hunting…they run in every direction and sometimes into each other. Which one do we listen to?

I'm sorry. I don't know how to advise you. Do I do that, confuse you?

Sometimes. Today. When you were asleep in that office, your mind was shouting. I've never heard it do that before. You had pictures, you call it dreaming? but it wasn't like your normal sleep. I don't know how you do that, either. How do you sleep with your brain not listening, like you are dead?  Dragons always have one half of their brain awake.

You don't dream?

We dream. But it's not like yours. It's…hunting. Eating. Mating. Flying, going between, being scratched. I need a scratch between my wings.

Siskin yeeped and immediately flew to a spot between Raventh's wings, where he began to scratch.

Yes, that's the spot. I am so glad we have Siskin

I am, too.

Once he'd finished transcribing his notes, he gave his weyr a good cleaning, airing out his bedding and knocking down insect webs. How did it get so messy when no one had been in it? 

His bookshelf was thick with dust.  He made the mistake of dusting it.

The resulting cloud made him sneeze. Disastrously.

Once the agony lessened, he tried to put a bandana around his nose, but it was too sore to bear any pressure. He wondered if his flight goggles would hurt it. He tried them on.

Oh, shards, yes. 

He was very careful in the rest of his cleaning. Now that he saw the dust, it annoyed him that he couldn't sweep it out without possibly inciting another sneeze.

Shards. Fine. I'll go get something to eat. Didn't get much breakfast this morning. Surely being grounded doesn't mean I can't eat in the dining hall, he thought.

Just as he was leaving his weyr, the sunlight came streaming in past Raventh's couch and lit up the bookshelf…and the rough opals serving as bookends.

Something told him to hide them.

He had no fear of them being stolen. People didn't routinely enter other people's weyrs without being invited. Even children knew better.

But there were people, like Jenmay, the rogue Oldtimer who'd managed to kill off their Weyrwoman in order to take her place. Once in that position, she'd rampaged throughout the weyr, rooting out anything 'modern' or inspired by Aivas. 

She'd barged into his quarters, uninvited, convinced he was hiding 'contraband', although she hadn't known it was books.

 He'd had just four, then, and had stuffed them into his shirt. She hadn't dared to search him bodily. Had she found them…the least thing she would have done would be to destroy them. 

But her intent had been to find something to justify exiling him, sent to some remote spot wherever she sent her other 'enemies'. Oh, wonderful hurricane, how such a destructive storm can still bring relief from a greater evil.  True, it had destroyed some things, but things that could be repaired or rebuilt. It had also destroyed her. No. She had allowed it to destroy her.

 He shivered at her memory.

She was a very bad human. She made her Jianath sad, all the time. I never knew a dragon could feel so much heart pain.

I know.

He didn't have to worry about that, not now, and hopefully, never again. His books were safe. But there were the opals. Despite being set in stony matrix, they still shone bright and beautifully. 

He took them off the shelf and holding them for a moment, wondered where to put them. Ah.

 Like most quarters, the walls of his weyr had cubbys carved into the rock, serving as storage space. He shoved the four rocks behind his clothing in the highest one. Out of sight meant out of mind.

The sunshine lit up his entire weyr. He missed his beach weyr but had to admit that he loved this one, too, especially on lovely days such as this. He had a view of the ocean, which, when the sun was rising, woke him with its light. Wairiki Rock, an island just off shore, served as home for hundreds of seabirds and wherries.

At night, he would sit out on the second level ledge between Raventh's forelegs and stargaze without bugs bothering him. Stargazing in the winter, Raventh's chest served as a warm backrest, allowing him to feel the dragon's slow, strong heartbeat.

Yes, I love this place. 

He was hungry, but he still had to stop and admire his two pets. The sunshine lit them both up, Raventh's chocolate brown hide gleaming with hints of bronze. And Siskin! He was a blue fire lizard, but in the sun, the little lizard seemed to glow, the sun picking up the blue green tint of his hide. Like the sea, he thought, Siskin's blaze, usually invisible, glowing like malachite green. 

You two are the most beautiful creatures on all of Pern.

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Without the normal beehive of activity in the weyr's bowl, he felt dwarfed by the basalt walls that formed it. Even the dragon ledges outside each weyr were empty. 

Had it not been for the sound of the ocean as a susurrating background, he would have heard his bootsteps echoing against the cliff side.   It accentuated how much noise there was when everyone was home, going about their daily lives. The weyr felt empty, abandoned, lonely.  Even the dining hall seemed cavernous with only a few people in it.

 Singing Waters Hold was feeding-and in the case of non dragon riders, housing, the crews working their fields, leaving the Weyr with only a relative handful of occupants. 

Lindea saw him as his was choosing his lunch.

"K'ndar! You look terrible! Do you hurt? Do you need something for your nose? I heard what B'rost did to you, what in the world got into him?"

"One at a time! I have no idea, but Raventh thinks he's jealous. Of me."  

"Hmm. Oscoral told us about it, I wasn't on shift yet. He said your nose was broken."

"It was, until Billek straightened it back out. That hurt worse than the punch, honestly. But he said it would be okay afterwards. Do I really look bad?"

She cocked her head, looking solely at his nose. My goodness, I'd never noticed before, but  you're a good looking man, she thought.

"Well, your nose is swollen, if nothing else, but looks straight. Didn't he give you something for the pain? I don't know a thing about broken noses." 

"What did he do, just grab it and pull?"

He laughed.

"It sure felt like it!  He did give me fellis but it was right before he straightened my nose. Only afterwards did it hit me after and boy, I've never felt so…..silly in my life. I thought I could fly, then I fell asleep."

Lindea laughed. "I've had it once. I know the feeling, on fellis, someone could hack your leg off with a wooden spoon and you'd laugh about it."

"That's it, you're right. But it made me feel sick at the same time. Not now, though, I'm starving. Can you sit and eat with me? I've not seen you in a while."

"There's hardly anyone here, I think I have the time. Let me get a tray and I'll join you."

They'd just finished eating when Siena, their Weyrwoman, entered the dining hall. She smiled at them and came over. "Good afternoon, Lindea, and I must compliment you on last night's shellfish stew…it was incredible."

Lindea blushed. "Thank you ma'am, but I had a good teacher when I lived on a ship. Our cookie was the best," she said, "That, and our cooks here at the weyr are outstanding," she added.

"They are, aren't they! I remember you saying you're ship folk. What ship was that? Did you say the Nocket?"

"Yes, ma'am, Nocket, was my dad's ship. Cookie was the best, once Dad retired, she went to work on my brother's ship, Arrow," Lindea said, a bit nervous in the presence of their Weyrwoman. 

"I grew up on Bright Star, and we thought our cook was the best. He's gone now, I wish I'd pinged him for some of his recipes before he died," she said, sighing. "I've experimented with some of his meals just from memory but it never seems to work out right," she said.

"Probably because he cooked for fifty, not just two," Lindea said, laughing.

Siena laughed, nodding her head. "That's so true!" 

She sobered. "If you don't mind, Lindea, I should like to speak with K'ndar alone, please?" she asked.

A request from one's Weyrwoman was seldom disobeyed. "I need to get back to work anyway, ma'am," Lindea said.

__________________________________________________________________________

Siena had questioned him closely before she told him of the meeting with B'rost.

"He knows I prefer to live alone, ma'am," he'd protested.  "If I'd wanted a weyrmate, she'd be here with me by now." 

"Yes. That is understood by all. I just wanted to get your side of the story before M'rvin decides on punishment for B'rost assaulting you," the Weyrwoman said. "It's only fair to have testimony from both sides. Do you want to be present when he hands down punishment?"

"Oh, shards, no. Ma'am, I'd be happy with just an apology. I'm satisfied that you sent him to do the work I was doing. I thought I was in good shape, but this morning I felt like I'd been trampled by a herd of steers. That sort of work, it's a killer for someone who's done nothing but ride a dragon for two years.  I don't know how the farmers do it all their lives! And men, well, we do stupid stuff like fight for no reason.  I don't want him punished, I just want him to say he's sorry and won't do it again," he said. 

"I understand your feelings, K'ndar, and an apology will be forthcoming. I want you to let me know when he does provide it. It had better be soon, too. 

But, K'ndar, still, he has to receive SOME sort of punitive action, to serve as a warning to others AND to keep the peace. Justice must be served, otherwise, people who are willing to commit crimes will do so with impunity. Look at the men who Lord Dorn had executed. They got away with murder for years. 

Believe me, people watch. The weyrlings, for instance, know all about the 'fight' this morning, and they are watching. Closely.   

One of the hardest part of being a leader is that sometimes you must punish people even when you know it was done, like B'rost's punch, out of immaturity and emotions rather than hatred or meanness. People won't trust you as a leader, if they know that the leader doesn't have the will to punish the wrong doer."

 K'ndar nodded, remembering how he'd marooned one of those men in the steppe, leaving him to certain death.

He'd fully agreed with the sentence, but felt bad solely because he'd been chosen to do the  marooning.

And since that time, there had been no crimes of that sort committed, as far as he knew, anywhere on their side of the continent. Word got around.

"Yes, ma'am, I agree. Especially with the Weyrlings. I know I watched when my classmates screwed up, and I learned not to repeat their actions. You're sure I won't have to be present for sentencing?"

"I'm sure, and I fully understand.  We intend on handing down punishment tonight, after his return from the hay fields. You don't want to let a man wait on a decision for days. If he's like me, if I had an arsewhipping coming-which I did, once, as a Weyrling-I want it right now so that I can suffer while the crime is still fresh in my mind, and then put it behind me," she said, smiling.

K'ndar laughed despite himself. "Ma'am, I cannot imagine you being anything but a Very Well Behaved Young Lady," he said.

She laughed, thinking of her beloved Mirth. "You have no idea, K'ndar. Girls don't get to be gold riders by being "well behaved". Golds, are, well, I don't know much about horses, but the horsefolk I know say golds are like mares, so I've taken one of their sayings and changed it to suit dragonriders:  "You order a brown or a blue, you ask a green or a bronze, you negotiate with a gold." 

Mirth laughed.

So did K'ndar. He'd heard it before,  repeated about geldings, stallions and mares, respectively, all his life. 

"Ma'am, I was riding before I could walk, and you are absolutely right about mares."

She got up to leave. "Billek will want to see you tomorrow. Afterwards, report to our office, if you can work, we need you."

"Yes , ma'am," he said, standing up in respect for her, "Honestly, I hope he does release me to work. I'm bored out of my mind doing nothing."