Chap. 142 The Wanderer

Chap. 142  The Wanderer 

The day was beautiful. They had the meadow to themselves. Lizard was especially at ease because of the solitude.

"So, K'ndar, what do you have planned for these pretty rocks?"

"They've been bothering me. I like them because they're beautiful, but I'm so …so paranoid that someone will want to know where did I get them, or worse…I know this is hard to believe, but …well, let me tell you about T'ovar and our experience at Tillek Sea Hold," he said.

 He told Lizard about the discovery that someone had searched their collection bags, how they'd been treated by the Sea Holders. 

"It shocked me that someone would actually go through our collection sacks. We think the thief or spy was looking for artifacts, which we hadn't found, either."

"I'm not surprised, K'ndar, not anymore. The number of folks who've told me of thefts, assaults and break ins has just gone through the roof," Lizard said.

"I wonder why?" K'ndar asked. 

"Oh, that's easy, K'ndar. It's because you dragon riders, you're no longer flying sweeps."

It struck like a lightning bolt. 

"Ummmmmmmmm…" K'ndar was gobsmacked.

"You're no longer riding sweeps. Used to be, you could count on a dragon team in the sky at least once a week, never could tell when or where, but the thieves and criminals knew that a dragonrider would chase them down and take them to the nearest Holder, who would put them in a cell and if the crime warranted it, remove the criminals' head. But not anymore," Lizard said.

K'ndar shook his head in denial, embarrassed at what felt like an accusation of dereliction of duty. Then realized Lizard was right. He had been on special assignment for so long, so he'd not been doing the more mundane tasks. 

"Not even-well, you're right. I can't remember the last time I did a sweep. But even here, in Southern?"

"Everywhere, K'ndar, every Weyr. Since Thread is gone, very few sweeps have been done. You're all busier than a one-legged man in an arse kicking contest doing things you didn't have time for."

"But…but we aren't NOT doing things, it's not as if we are sitting around on our arses, telling Thread stories," he protested.

"Aye, that's precisely the point. Since the end of Thread, you dragonriders have scattered like ambushed wherries, to everywhere on the planet. You're free lancing, now, you're moving to other weyrs, you're hiring yourselves and your dragons out for all sorts of things, you're doing construction with your dragons, you're out doing exploration, some of you have just vanished, maybe you're out  living Weyrless.  There's not enough riders for the mundane stuff, like transporting old ladies up to Healer Hall or searching for raiders.

 It's not out of laziness, or even lack of desire. It's more you're filling roles that didn't exist, before, or have cropped up now because it's lucrative and landsman like myself had always done it on foot or horseback, because we had to. You were busy fighting Thread.

There's even Holders who are hiring dragonriders as permanent staff, for their own personal use. One I know for a fact is doing that is Toric. He's got feelers everywhere, even up North- the phrase he uses is "Dragonriders wanted. Good pay, no drudge work, and a permanent Hold."

K'ndar had no rejoinder to the truth. But he bet he knew, now, where T'ovar was. Shards. He'd still have to keep an eye on his back. Maybe it was best he sell these opals, just to keep himself safe.

"Even better, then, that you sell these opals for me. Now, how did you get this dandy little caravan?"

Lizard laughed. He remembered the scenario. "I should correct what I'd said earlier. I didn't IMMEDIATELY re-board a ship. I met a wanderer on the way to the port."

He hadn't been on the path back to the port for long when he saw a small, wizened man just sitting next to it. 

The man looked as old as the sea. He stood up as Lizard's horses approached.

 "Pardon me, sir, but, I saw your team and wagon pass by here t'other day. Now you have no wagon. Your horses, sir, they're fine looking beasts, they are. Are they for sale? Trade?"

Lizard looked at him, immediately realizing the man was a Wanderer. The people, known as gypsies, or Roma on Terra, had transported to Pern with the first colonists. They'd immediately returned to their nomadic way of life, one that depended completely on insular society, a tight family, even tighter lips, and good horses. Despite 2500 plus years of living on Pern, they'd never fully assimilated, and referred to people other than their own as "Perns". 

"No, sir, they are not for sale," Lizard said. 

"I don't mean to pry, sir, but I take you for a trader, one who had passed by here t'other day with a wagon, and now no wagon, just a team. Why, if I may ask?"

He knew, in his gut, this man was honest, and harmless. 

"You may ask, sir. I am a trader. One who refused to trade with a man because I had a contracted buyer for my cargo. He tried to entice me to go to his camp on the pretext of giving me a better deal, but I don't break promises. That, I and didn't trust him, he struck me as a bad 'un.  He must have followed me after I rejected him, because the next morning, my wagon had been burnt to the axles. Fortunately I'd already offloaded my cargo, so I lost not much. I don't have any proof he did it, but were I a betting man, I'd lay money he was behind it. So I'm leaving before he takes something more."

The Wanderer sucked his teeth in dismay, but nodded.

"I thinks I know the man what done it," he said, "You wouldn't be the first he done that to. Word is this man may have beaten another almost to death and stole his wagon. Did you meet him at the port?"

Lizard believed him. 

"I did," he said, "In retrospect, I bet he lays in wait there for victims."

The wanderer nodded. "I'm sorry, sir, that he did that to you. Because now I am convinced I do knows who done it."

"Would you tell the Lord Holders, and the Sea Lord here, about him? So he can be punished?"

"Nay, sir, nay. I'm a wanderer. The thieves, the criminals, raiders, they leave us alone only because we don’t tell nothing to nobody. Otherwise, they'd burn our camps up. We lives in our caravans, but we have to leave  our wives and children in camp-and they don't treat anyone right."

"I know that. Okay, I understand. I've had dealings with some of your folk in Southern."

The other nodded. "Aye, most of my kin is down there. I'm here now only because my granddaughter, she married a Pern man up here, and insist I live with them. Says I'm too old to be on the road anymores, and I's sorry to say she's right. Arthuritis, it's eating me bones up bad. Me wife, she's gone, me children, well, they's wanderers, too. Who knows where they be? My granddaughter, her home, they have a hot spring in the midst and it makes me less achy. Even so, I can't ride no more. Breaks my heart."

Lizard nodded. 

"So, sir, why…are you interested in buying my team?"

The man laughed. It sounded like the wind whistling through dried leaves. It wasn't just his bones that were getting old, Lizard thought, his wind is broken, too.

"Sir. I'm a Wanderer. We are horses but with two legs, not four.  I can't help myself. Horses is to us what wine is to a drunkard. I knows good horseflesh when I sees it, and I'm looking at it now. I can turn them around at a profit in a flash, or, if living under a slate roof gets too tiresome, I can…well, I can't, but I'd like to believe that I could still return to the road. They'd keep me hopes up, give me something to live for."

Lizard laughed. 

"I understand the feeling. These two are my family, just like my fire lizards. They're not for sale."

The man leaned over and ran a hand down one of the horse's legs. The mare nuzzled the back of his neck. He chuckled, straightened up and began to scratch her withers. As he did, he began to sing something just under his breath. She responded by scrubbing his chest with her upper lip.

 Lizard's mount pushed his head against the man, wanting scratches, too.

It's like they're one species, wanderer and horse, Lizard thought, and he'd known and handled horses all his life. He felt almost jealous.

"Good bone, here. Solid. These be good beasts. You've treated them kindly, sir, they tell me that. I can see why you don't sell 'em. But…well, sir, I like the cut of your jib. You strike me as a good 'un. Would you be interested in buying me caravan? It's old, but comfortable and much loved. Only thing wrong with it is one hub, sometimes it binds up, I've been meaning to replace it but I'm no longer able to do the work it takes to pull it.  Backbone's all stove up."

"I couldn't do that, sir, where would you live?"

The old man sighed.

"In a cave. In a cold, dark cave. Nay, that's not fair to my girl, no. It's clean and roomy, it's not cold, no, but…ach, my body is giving out on me, and me granddaughter, she wants me close to where she can keep an eye on me," he said, despairing, yet proud. 

"Her Pern man is a good 'un, too. It's his place, the cave, and he's done a fine job of turning it into a nice home for them and their kids. They treat me right. She's on me, though, like a cat with her kits, iffen I try to do sumthin, like pull that hub. Only lets me do little jobs that make it look like I'm doing sumthin to earn my keep. I don't need to, you know, but a man has his pride. She keeps me fed, puts  meat on me ribs, after me wife died, I lost condition. Not now. But -I don't want to admit it, not to her, you, yes, you being a stranger. I'm too old, too long in t'tooth for the road, it breaks my heart, but it's what it is."

"She sounds like a good girl. Some folks would have turned you out without a thought."

The man was struck. "Aye, by the stars, you'd be right. I seen it myself, 'specially amongst you Perns. Wanderers, we stick tight. Sometimes too tight."

Lizard came out of his reverie to see K'ndar watching and waiting for the rest of the tale.

"So, I did go to the man's granddaughter's hold. He on the mare, who could not have been more gentle with him, and me on the gelding. He was right, he was hurting by the time we got to their little cothold. The minute I laid eyes on the caravan I knew it was a steal, no matter how much he might ask for it. He told me the hub might go, but I was willing to chance it. He asked a fair price and I only dickered out of a sense of tradition-wanderers are traders, too. It was worth the price he asked. Especially as it came with cookware, bedding, complete. I didn't have to add a thing."

"Can I see inside it?"

"Of course," Lizard said, getting up, "but first, I must introduce you to my new partner. Here, lad, to me," he said.

From under the wagon, until then hidden in the grass, emerged a large, half grown dog. The dog immediately sat down in front of Lizard, back against his knees, in a protective pose.

He looked all business. There was no friendliness in the dog's eyes, but no rancor, either. He regarded K'ndar with the air of waiting for him to make the next move.

"Huh. Did you…did you trade for him?"

"Nay, I bought him outright, as a half grown pup.  I debarked at a small port on the west coast. I'm sure you remember the horse I sold at Toric's Gather?"

"Remember him? I've ridden him. He's incredible. I am so glad you sold him to Francie and Raylan."

"Ah, I'm glad you know where he's at. Anyway, I made my way to that ranch again, more to see if they had any more horses to sell or trade…that black one, he's never left my mind. 

The rancher's, they've begun raising guardian dogs, mostly to keep the raiders at bay.  They told me they'd had more raiders show up in the last year then all the prior years put 

together. This dog, here, was from their third or fourth litter, they raise one litter a year, train them up to protect livestock, the cotholds, the family. Their dogs are gaining a reputation for being excellent guard dogs, gentle with family and animals, but terror on criminals.  Their pups go fast and for good money. 

I'll introduce you, but he's not a pet. He's for protection. He doesn't bark. The breeders train 'em up to be silent, like a snake.  He proved his worth when he ran off a handful of thieves when I was on my way here and he's only half grown."

K'ndar eyed the dog warily. This was no spit dog. This dog had a mind.  "I think I'd like him to know I am a friend of yours," he said.

"Oh, aye. He's smart as a knife, he is. He understands every word."

He reached down and scratched the dog's chest. The dog looked intently into Lizard's eyes. 

"This is K'ndar, lad, good dog. He's a friend of mine. He's family. Sniff his hand, learn who he is, there's a lad," Lizard said. 

The dog turned to look K'ndar up and down, taking his measure with a serious eye. He sniffed K'ndar all over. K'ndar made sure his hands were still. The dog circled behind him, making  K'ndar nervous. 

Then he sat down in front of K'ndar, obviously making a decision.

Lizard stroked his head. "K'ndar is family, he is one of us. Understand?"

K'ndar saw something change in the dog's eyes. It went from a coldness to something much warmer.

The tail began to wag. 

"You can pet him now," Lizard said, "and make up to him."

K'ndar knelt down to the dog's level. 

"Hello, lad, you look like a fine one," he said, hesitantly reaching behind the dog's head to scratch behind his ears.

The tail stilled for a moment, then began to wag harder. K'ndar knew just where a dog might itch.

"I'm a friend of your master," he said, to the dog. "Will you be friends with me, too?"

The dog thought it a great idea, his eyes laughing. 

"What's his name?" K'ndar said, not looking up at Lizard.

"I thought you'd never ask. He's Crunch," Lizard said.

"CRUNCH?"

"Aye, it's the sound a raider's leg makes when he catches him in my caravan."