Chap. 181 The Boatheads
"Are there no dragonriders here?" K'ndar asked.
Francie had taken him through the village, meeting several people, all of whom seemed to be in a semi-permanent state of quiet introspection at best and somnolence at worst. Everyone was polite but kept their questions to themselves. Maybe that was just the way they were, he reflected.
There seemed to be no structure, no intensity of purpose, but he had to admit that the village was neat as a pin and the villagers seemed friendly, if not effusive.
"No, despite my being a dragonrider, and, mind you, dragonriders are welcome here, just like anyone else who's willing to abide by the rules, " Francie said, "but dragons or fire lizards will never be able to live here, and I'll show you why."
She led the way to a large barn on the edge of the village. Vast pastures were populated by horses and cattle…and something else.
A young girl was lounging in the shade of a large tree, and stood up when they approached.
"Hello, I’m Francie," Francie said, "and you?"
"Elga, I'm today's shepherd. You're dragonriders, I saw you land. Please don't allow your dragons near my pets," she said.
Francie laughed. "Elga, I grew up here, so I know better. Both our dragons and our fire lizards have eaten, so you needn't worry. We're here to see your boatheads," she said.
"Boatheads?" K'ndar repeated. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he'd ever heard of such a beast, or read of it.
"Boatheads," Francie repeated.
Elga smiled and standing up, put her fingers to her lips and whistled.
There was a sound of miniature thunder, and from below the brow of a hill came a tide of brown, shaggy beasts.
There were almost thirty of them. They moved quickly with an odd, undulating gait, and soon K'ndar could see why. They had six limbs, but quite unlike any native Pernian animal. The rear four ended in hooves, the front pair were short, more like arms than legs, and had what appeared to be paws. A stout neck rose from the middle set of shoulders and was topped by a broad, almost triangular shaped head.
He could see immediately why they were called 'boatheads'. The top part of the wide, horizontally flattened head, the center from front to rear was ridged, with a shape similar to the keel of a boat. The skull flattened laterally from that ridge and narrowed to a sharp, horned points, one on each side of the head, on the same plane as the eyes. The eyes were the length and shape of a human finger and twice as wide. Under the eyes was a slash that had to be a mouth. He could see, just barely, what might have been nostrils underneath the short hair of the face. The skull narrowed towards the back, ending in yet another horn.
Some of the boatheads rear horns were twice as long as the side ones.They were obviously non natives-but neither were they something from Terra. He'd have to look them up in Walkers "Mammals of the Galaxy"
This has to be the ugliest animal I've ever seen, he thought.
The herd arrived in a rush, making an odd sound that was a combination of gurgling and growling. Several were noticeably smaller. Yearlings, he thought.
Elga stepped in amongst them and began to croon to them. They jostled to reach her, and he was glad he wasn't in amongst them. The size of a horse, they used the lateral horns to push the others away. One particularly large one, with an immense rear horn, stared at him. Herd male? What to call these things to designate sex and age? No stallion, no cow, ever looked like this.
"What-I've never seen anything like them. Where are they from?"
"No one is quite sure. They were imported as frozen embryos from Vulcan, but it's believed they were originally from Aldebaran 4. The Vulcans are master geneticists…far better than any human, and it's theorized they tinkered with the original Aldebaran beast for…well, what else do you notice about them?"
He looked at them, trying to summon his biologist.
"Let's see. Horse sized, but no equine had a head like THAT. A triangular shaped head, flattened horizontally and what I think are horns on the points that stick out sideways. Two what I assume are eyes, long and narrow, filling up a fairly good portion of the front part of the head. I see a third horn but it appears to be pointing back, towards a flattened tail. Paws with claws on the, um, forearms, hooves on the middle and hind legs.
Francie laughed.
"What else?"
"Ummmmmmm'…
Look at the torso just below the front most pair of legs. See a fold there?
He looked. He saw what appeared to be a gash across the midriffs of some of the boatheads.
"Um.."
Just then, he saw the most amazing thing. A small head protruded from the gash on one of them.
"What in the world?" he said, "It's a baby?"
Francie nodded. "Yes. They're 'marsupial'. Meaning, the ones with the pouch on the front, they're females. These animals produce a live baby, directly into the pouch, at a very early developmental stage, and the baby completes its development in the pouch until it's old enough to thermoregulate and move about. There were several species and genuses of marsupials on Terra, but I can't remember any of their names," she said.
"Kroo, that's the one I 'member," Elga said, "but the picture of kroo's didn't look nothing like boatheads."
"Anything, Elga. Double negatives, you know," Francie corrected.
"ANYTHING like boatheads, ma'am," Elga said, not at all resentful for the correction.
K'ndar remembered, vaguely, reading about marsupials, but Pern's animals laid eggs. Only non-native mammals, from Terra and Vulcan, gave birth to live young.
"Not bad, but what else do you see?"
"By the egg, it's fur. What FUR! It shimmers!"
Elga nodded proudly. "Yes. We raise them for their fur. We don't kill them for their fur, because the older they get, the deeper, and softer, and thicker it gets as they age. We can also shear them, like sheep. When they die, THAT's when we take the entire hide and turn it into sleeping furs. Haven't you ever wondered where the furs on your bunk come from?"
He shook his head, looking down at the girl, who wasn't much older than his sister, Glyena. She had the same self confident air of an incipient alpha mare.
"Elga, where I come from, it's warm. We do get snow on occasion, but only once in a while, and then we use wool for our clothes and our blankets. My cothold, for instance, has sheep that we shear yearly, and tithe the wool to our Holder," he said, thinking of his home cothold and Lord Dorn's Hold.
"A hold? We aren't a hold here, we're a commune," she said. "I don't know what 'tithe' means."
"Haven't gotten that far in Pern economics, Elga?" Francie asked.
"No'm. I get that later, I think. But Aivas, we know about Aivas, he had a whole database meant for teaching kids, so we're learning more 'portant things than economics. I don't know for sure what that means but it sounds like money. I don't care for money, it means math. I don't really like math," the girl said.
K'ndar grinned, feeling the same way about economics. The difference in the culture here was growing ever more evident.
The green rider said, "Boatheads provide the best furs on the planet. At one time, there were a great many more but it seems, especially after the Old Timers came forward, the commune was ostracized. Boathead numbers dwindled, with inbreeding creating problems,so much so that it was thought the entire species would be lost. Only Aivas's advice and training on embryology tweaking, gave us the keys to resurrecting the species. Now, we know better, and in the last, what, Elga? fifteen years? been able to produce more boatheads," Francie said.
Elga nodded in agreement.
It's only been recently that there's been a renewed interest in boathead fur. I hope it continues, these are nice beasts and their fur is fabulous."
He looked at the beasts as they milled about. The fur was long and deep, long guard hairs floating as if stirred by the wind, despite the fact that the air here was calm and still.
"Can I touch one?" he asked.
"Sure. They're gentle. They won't hurt you, but the herd male will keep an eye on you. If you make them mad, they can gore you," Elga said.
Francie said, "K'ndar is a horseman, just like me, Elga. He knows how to handle livestock."
K'ndar hoisted himself over the sturdy rock wall, admiring the way it was fitted together without mortar. Someone knew his masonry, for certain.
One of the yearlings came up to him, twisting its head sideways. Somehow it looked endearing, although K'ndar couldn't shake the feeling it was still a homely animal.
"They like the back of their head scratched," Elga said, helpfully.
Good night, where did the back start and end? But his hand instinctively found a spot just under the rear horn. He had to worm the fingers in through the amazingly deep fur to find the skin. It was soft and warm. He began to scratch, watching..well, he couldn't see the eyes, now could he? They were on the front of the head, not the sides, like those of a horse.
"Oh, there are knobs back here?" he said, feeling soft little lumps.
"Thems his ears, um, THOSE are his ears. He's got four of them, two in back, and two just in front of the horns. Don't scratch them, just stay inside them, towards the middle. Don't let the horns stick you," Elga advised.
His fingers found a safe spot and began to scratch the skin.
The animal immediately began to croon, twisting its head away from him to give him access.
"He'll let you do that all day, iffen …IF you let him," Elga said.
K'ndar grinned. "Sort of like my mum's cat, what?" He gauged how hard he could scratch by the animal's reaction. Apparently, it wasn't hard enough!
Elga looked at him. "Where are you from?" she asked.
"Originally? Or now?" he asked.
"Both."
"I was born in a small cothold, that's a place with just a few families, in my case just my immediate family and several single people who help my family raise cattle and horses. We live on the edge of Kahrain Steppe. Do you know about the steppe?" he asked. He found himself forcing himself to answer, as if he were hearing her voice from a long distance.
She shook her head.
Ah, well.
"Now, I live at Kahrain Steppe Weyr, you know what a weyr is, yes?"
This is odd, he thought, my eyelids feel heavy.
"Yes. It's where dragons and their riders live. In rocks, your cottage is made of rocks. Right?"
Francie grinned. "Not always, and not quite, Elga. Most of the weyrs here on Northern are caverns in old volcanic formations. K'ndar's weyr, is quite a bit different, in that they do live in caverns in volcanic formations, but also have cottages, like yours, here, some entirely of wood! That's because Southern was always protected from thread, by grubs, just like here at Sweet Grass," she said.
She had a weird grin on her face, K'ndar noticed.
The rest of the boatheads closed up around him. He felt no fear, despite how close some of those horns were to his face. They looked exceedingly sharp.
By the way, K'ndar, what are you feeling, right now?" Francie asked, smirking.
K'ndar shook his head, trying to dispel the webs clogging his mind. "Believe it or not, I feel like I could take a nap," he said.
"Stop scratching, then, it's the boathead doing that to you," she said.
"What?" he pulled his hand away. The boathead grumbled in protest. It pushed its head back into his hand, insisting on more scritches.
Pulling away, he clambered back over the stone fence and stood a little shakily. He felt wobbly.
"They project some sort of, well, it's not telepathy like in our dragons, or even our fire lizards. It's, I guess the best word is a mental soporific. It's theorized that, when you do something nice to a boathead, like scratch between its ears, it matches it's brainwaves with yours, to make you continue," she said. "You do it long enough, you'll feel as if you've been on a two day drunk, but without the sickness," she said.
"Clever, it works, for certain," K'ndar laughed, shaking the sleepiness out of his head.
"No one has problems with insomnia, not here!" Francie said, "What else did you feel?"
K'ndar reflected. "That fur…it's soft. So SOFT, like, well, like nothing I've ever felt before."
"Yes," Elga said, "It's the softest and lightest fur on all Pern. It is the warmest, too. It doesn't matter how cold it gets, the boatheads stay out in the snow, the ice, they are warm. It sheds out in the spring and we collect it, and make things out of it."
His fingers remembered the incredible feel of the fur.
"Strange," he said, now fully recovered, "they have fur. Most herbivores-I'm assuming they're herbivores?"
Francie and Elga nodded.
"Most herbivores have hair, not fur. I know, it's merely the difference in number of hairs, and the texture. These are different," he said.
"My mum, and my grandmum make sweaters and bedthrows out of the hair. We collect it in the spring, clean it, and make it into things. Not me, I don't do that, I'm not interested in doing things like that. Me, I want to be outside, like now," Elga said. "My sister, she likes knitting and weaving but not me. I want to be out with the boys, doing fun things."
"I am just like you," Francie said. Then, she said, 'Come on, K'ndar, I'll show you some other things. Thank you, Elga, for your time," Francie said.
"You're welcome and nice to meet you, K'ndar," Elga said.
They walked off. "Nice kid, well behaved, courteous," K'ndar said.
"That's how we raise 'em here, K'ndar."
"Makes me wonder, why boatheads aren't more common, why only here?"
Francie was leading him back to the dragons, he noticed.
"They don't do well, not at all, in warm climates. They want it cold and snowy. People tried raising them further south, on North, of course, and they just couldn’t take the heat. That's one thing the genetic tweaking couldn't accomplish. So for now, it seems, Sweet Grass has a monopoly on their fur," Francie said.
"I wonder, how they'd do at the southern end of Kahrain Steppe? It gets cold there, too," he asked.
"I don't know. I'm not sure how they'd adapt, if at all, to a steppe environment," she said after several moments.
"By the way, you said it wasn't advisable for dragons to be here?" K'ndar asked. Dragons could handle the cold, he knew.
"I said, they don't do well here, and the boatheads are the reason," she said.
"How?"
"Well, let's mount our dragons for the best demonstration. Besides, I believe you wanted to see snow tigers?"
"YES."
"Well, it takes some flying, but I know where we can see one. Seen enough of the village?"
"For today, I guess, but I'd love to see the snow tigers, and now that I have the coordinates to Sweet Grass, I can come back," he said.
"Just as long as you park Raventh far away," she said.
________________________________________________________________________
Their dragons leaped into the air, and, catching the southbound wind, gained altitude. Francie set a northern course.
"This is a good height, and we shouldn't tarry, I don't want to get the livestock too upset," Francie called.
Beneath them, the cattle and horses bolted as they approached. K'ndar always felt bad when his dragon caused such fear in animals not used to them, so he knew to make it quick.
"There's the boatheads," Francie called.
The boatheads, he noticed, had been intermingled with the other livestock, but stood their ground when the other livestock had fled. They all stared at the dragons.
They looked so ugly, he thought, that triangular head, that flattened tail…
IT HURTS! Raventh shouted, cringing.
Siskin screeched and cowered on Ravenths neck, as if trying to keep from hit by rain. He could feel pain coming from both of them.
What hurts? Then he felt pain in his inner ear, a searing, burning sensation. What the shaff? It was part Raventh, part himself? He'd never felt anything like this. He felt a non-existant sharp edged wire being pulled through his skull, ear to ear.
It hurts! Those animals down there…I have to get out of here Raventh said, and without urging, he beat his wings hard to gain altitude and speed. Motanith bolted and was soon far ahead of them.
Francie's fire lizards were shrieking.
Raventh shook his head. Make it stop!
I don't know what it is!
"See that peak, oh, I'll have Motanith push it to Raventh, we need to head to that point, then we'll be out of range," Francie yelled.
The wind whistling in his ears made him miss some of her words, but Raventh heard and sped even faster.
Within a few moments, K'ndar felt the pain in his head subside.
That hurt. It's better now. I don't ever want to go near those animals again Raventh said, with a mental sigh from the release of pain.
They were near the peak when Siskin and Francie's trio finally stopped crying.
"What the shaff was THAT?" he called to the green rider alongside.
"THAT was from the boatheads, reacting to our dragons. It's the boatheads way of attacking predators, see? They scream at an ultrasonic level, far above our hearing limits but other animals hear it, and are repelled by it," she called.
"No doubt! It sure repelled ME!" he said, shaking his head.
"That's why we use boatheads to protect the livestock from predators like wherries or snow tigers," she said.
"Thanks for the warning. That's something I won't ever forget," he called.
Me neither Raventh said.
30 May 2020
22 May 2020
Chap. 180 Sweet Grass Commune
Chap. 180 Sweet Grass Commune
The mountains forming the Northern Barrier Range were awe inspiring.
K'ndar couldn't tear his eyes from them. Yes, there were mountains bordering the steppe he'd grown up on. They were ancient, though, their heights truncated and their outlines smoothed by eons of rain and wind.
These mountains were youngsters in comparison, their fanged peaks softened only by mantles of snow. Trees grew dark and thick below the snow line. He knew, from seeing them from dragonback, that the mountains went on and on to the north in dark, forbidding ranks, clear to the horizon.
Sweet Grass Hold seemed an insignificant speck in their shadows.
They'd landed in a meadow, the knee high grass turning brown but still rich and lush for the free ranging livestock that had bolted at their approach. He could hear the horses, watching them from safe distance, snorting in alarm.
The air, while cool and fresh, seemed to be lacking something. Ah. That was it. Not a hint of salt spray. He was many kilometers from the sea. Despite his heavy flight jacket, the wind found its way inside, chilling him.
Francie stood by, respectful of his silence.
"How in the world did anybody find this place? What is its history?" he asked, finally.
"I don't know, K'ndar. Our history here goes back a thousand years. If you fly high enough, you'll see that the valley is closed at both ends. At the north end, a large waterfall creates the river. There's a turbine there that provides us some power. No one can remember when it was installed. At the south end, there are rapids that, when the river is low in the summer, are ferocious. Believe it or not, we have folks who have special boats, called kaks, to ride them-for sport! Someone a very long time ago built a bridge across it below the southern pass, but it is routinely washed out by heavy meltwater floods, or destroyed by trees being brought down by the river.
There are fords in many spots, but, again, it all depends on the river. The Lochsa has her moods,you see," Francie laughed, loving her birthplace deeply. I miss it, sometimes, but I am glad I don't live here anymore, she thought. Too cold.
"There are several trails, in some places no better than game trails, into the valley, but most of them entail crossing the mountains. There are two fairly level passes, conveniently, one on the south end and one on the north, which can accommodate wagons and draft beasts. I believe they were intentionally created by the first settlers. Sometimes, in the winter, an avalanche will close them for weeks, or until snowmelt! They're in deep ravines, so they have steep sides and are heavily forested. They are our main form of defense," she said.
"Avalanche? What's an avalanche? And, it's not winter now?" he asked, eyeing the snow on the mountain tops.
She laughed. "No, this is late summer here, K'ndar. The snows are there year round."
He shivered involuntarily. "Brrrrrrrrrrr".
"As for avalanches-it's like a mudslide, but of snow, and far more dangerous," she said.
He shook his head. "I'm not even certain what a mudslide is. The steppe is flatland, FLAT," he said.
"I'll show you a video of an avalanche, someday," she said.
She sat down in the deep grass. Her three fire lizards and Siskin were coursing over the grass half-heartedly hunting.
"Sounds to me as if your village was fairly self-sufficient," he said.
"Indeed, although that's not to say we don't have regular transactions with other holds and halls. There are some resources we just don't have here.
We keep to ourselves, normally. We have just about everything we need.
Sweet Grass was established by people who could be termed "Wanderers" but weren't. They were, um, escapees, misfits and dreamers, rebels from a Pernese culture they didn't or couldn't agree with. They were people who had no desire to kneel to a lord, or pay a tithe, or be constrained by what had become a very stratified society. Some were women who wanted to be scientists, not just breeders, some were men on the run after pissing off their lord, and some were craftsmen who just wanted to do their craft without having to worry about where their next meal was coming from.
The recluses of the world seem to gravitate here. No one bothers you as long as you mind your manners, do your part to keep the village going, meaning doing tasks as we did in Weyrlingschool, and share what you have if someone is short. Those who don't want to go by our 'laws' are 'invited' to leave. Most of the time they finally come around, but I know there are many who left and have never returned. Some come and go; some are born and die here. I'm betting my boots that there are people here who've never seen a dragon, although today they can see TWO!"
She glanced fondly at her green Motanith, who was watching something in the distance. She wasn't hungry, Francie knew that.
"We're a commune. We're the last remnant of what the first settlers called an 'egalitarian' society, with science and industry as the cultural basis. I learned early on about the settlers, about the starships, how Terra was rendered unlivable, there was even, at one time, a telescope, until if fell apart just from age.
Everyone is expected to read, to write-we have paper, for instance, although not as good as the stuff they're making now. Everyone is expected to teach their skill to children and as many adults as want to learn. Once a month we have a village get together where problems are brought out and discussed and, to the best of our ability, rectified.
One is expected to be productive. It doesn't matter HOW. Even digging up rocks and piling them into fence rows is a respected craft. We're so far off the maps that I'm the first person in years to have been selected for Impression. Because we never reported Thread fall, the Weyrs seldom came this far north."
Far over their head, skeins of avians called, lending a plaintive note to the wind.
"This isn't to say that we're all inbred yokels. Plenty of folks found their way out and moved to Lemos, or Telgar or further. But many of them come back to raise their two kids, bringing in fresh blood and fresh knowledge," she said.
"You never had Thread here?" he said, thinking of his thread maps. Surely they had thread fall here.
"Oh, yes, we had thread fall. It would die in the snow, which never melts on the mountain tops, and the grubs took care of what hit down here. Unlike so many of the old timers, well, remember, farmers were told to 'watch for grubs' and they all thought that meant to exterminate them! But not here. We may be backwoods, but we're not backward. A thousand years ago, a wise man observed the grubs eating thread, and so we were raised knowing that the grubs were our protectors. We may have lost the technology of the Ancients, but we didn't forget the Charter. We kept up on the events of the rest of Pern, mostly through immigrants. Oh, and from refugees, who found their way here when raiders terrorized their cot holds. Fax was just the most recent. Oh, the stories they told!"
"Fax! Is that what you meant by 'defense'? K'ndar asked.
"In more ways than one. We practiced with weapons and tactics; we kept up on protecting ourselves, even though people thought it was unnecessary. We'd gone ages and ages without as much as a frown from someone outside. Oh, it's not to say people didn't argue, and even fight, but it wasn't the same as that when Fax found our valley. You remember your history, I'm certain. Fax tried to add us to his list of conquered Holds," she said.
"Tried," K'ndar repeated.
Fax, a warlord on a planet that had no words for war, had attacked and absorbed seven Holds, murdered their leaders and rightful heirs of those holds and halls, even held Harpers hostage. Only dragon riders evaded him. He'd eradicated anyone of bloodlines that had held Holds for over two thousand years, to include everyone at Ruatha, save for Lessa, Benden's Weyrwoman and Ramoth's rider.
"Tried. We'd never kept our commune a secret, so it's no surprise that Fax learned of us. We must have appeared, well, we DO appear to be a flock of sleepy eyed sheep. He also learned how rich we are, in terms of what we produce. Furs. Woolen goods. Wood. Livestock! Wait until you see our livestock! He believed that we were just another cot hold, one seemingly unwilling to fight. I'm still amazed that he was able to subjugate so many other holds. It may be that ours was his first attempt at conquest. Whatever the case was, he badly misjudged us," she said.
"Was it actually Fax? Before he took Ruatha and the other holds?" K'ndar asked.
"No one knows. We'd never seen or heard of him and it was only long after the fact, long after Lessa brought Old Timers forward, that we began to understand what had happened. One day, seven men found their way through the Southern Pass into our valley. They claimed to be traders, but no one was fooled by that. Traders don't come bearing swords and no goods.
We didn't pay the swords any mind," she said, "we trained from childhood with our own. We just didn't swagger with them at our belts, displaying them as if they were giant penises."
K'ndar roared.
She sat down and pulled a seed head from the grass. She absentmindedly opened it, unconsciously judging its maturity and whether it was time to harvest. Not yet. Maybe another week, if it doesn't rain? Her three fire lizards returned and settled on Motanith's back. Siskin roosted on Raventh. They chittered to each other.
She saw something flit by, out the corner of her eye, but all she'd caught was the motion. The grass was alive with all sorts of creatures, so she dismissed it.
"They'd been in the village for about a week. We took them in as guests, each one lodged in someone's cottage, where they were fed and treated with respect. They asked all sorts of questions, how many adult males were in the home? Who was our Holder, how wealthy were we, how ready were we prepared to defend ourselves. They got noncommittal answers. No one wanted to boast of his or her wealth, and our leadership was…and still is a nebulous thing. We don't have a Holder. It's shared. We have a headman or woman who is chosen by the rest of the village, anyone over the age of 18 has a say. If everyone agrees on the same person, and he or she is willing to serve, for whatever length of time they choose, then…that's who the "head" is. And it's not always one person. If, say, someone knows more than everyone else on when it's time to, for instance, harvest these oats, well, then he or she is the leader of the harvest. Even the "headman" defers to that person in the harvest. It's a shared task, just like just about everything else. Many Pernese can't deal with that sort of freedom, but it works for us."
K'ndar nodded. It sounded…nice.
"The headman at that time was Andray. The marauders forced their way into his cottage, although, if they'd asked nicely, he would have let them in. They demanded he call the villagers together NOW, to inform the community that Fax was now our lord, and if we didn't obey them or him, we would suffer the consequences.
Andray was quite amused. He realized they were serious only after they stuck a dagger next to his throat.
Then he rang the community bell to summon as many villagers as wanted or were available, to hear him out. He began to tell the crowd that the men had lied to us; they were there to conquer us. He fully expected to have his throat cut then and there, but one of the raiders pushed him aside and told the assembled crowd that the village would be 'wiped out' if we didn't submit.
Someone in the crowd said that she'd had enough of the 'pig' she'd hosted and that they must all leave.
They began to threaten us, and we laughed.
Andray told them flat out, you are no longer welcome. Get on your horses. Now. Leave.
And within moments, their horses were brought out, all tacked up.
Because we outnumbered them, they didn't attack then. I think they left because they had no idea how to handle a village full of people who weren't afraid. One of them said, "You have cut your own throats. We will be back, this time in force," and they mounted and rode away…but not all the way.
There was an old couple who lived on the outskirts of the village. They were both in their 80's, I believe. The two were at their well when the men dismounted. The old man asked them, did they want water for their horses? They grabbed the old man and twisted his arm and said, "Swear fealty to Fax!"
"Whoever he is, he's a pig who I'll do nothing but swear at," he said. That was the excuse the raiders were looking for, any reason they could dream up in order to abuse and intimidate us into submission. Not a one of them had even a single redeeming characteristic. They were rough, cruel men, used to killing people," she said. She shook her head.
"Such brave men, attacking an old couple! "How dare you doubt Fax! We'll make an example of you," they said. They roughed the old man up, threw him to the ground, and shouted at the old woman that she would submit or watch her man be beaten to death. Instead, she ran away, into their barn. They laughed at that.
The old man asked them why, when we'd treated them with respect, they were hurting him, and they laughed. "Your woman ran away!" they jeered. But they'd made a fatal mistake, that of turning their backs on the woman. She was up in the hay mow.
Within seconds, she shot arrows into the backs of four of them. They had armor on their chests, but not the back!! Hee heee! Four of them, dead as hammers as fast as the woman could draw her bow!
The rest were so surprised at the sudden turn of events, they turned to see where the arrows had come from, and the old man-from the ground, mind you-grabbed one of the dead men's swords and stabbed the one closest to him in the back of his knee, severing the artery. No, he almost completely cut off the leg at the knee! THAT one fell down and squawked until he bled out…which didn't take long.
By that time, the entire village had arrived, every one of them mad enough to boil eggs. The two survivors put their backs together and began to threaten our people. But they were surrounded, and now they were the ones who were afraid.
Andray walked up to them, just beyond reach of their swords, and gave them a choice. Put down their swords or fall on them, because we weren't going to submit to anyone. He said, we will let one of you go. One of you will stay here, in chains, until he is ransomed. You choose. The other goes back to Fax. Tell him to go shaff himself," she said.
"Then they did something that shook us to the core. One turned to the other and without hesitation, ran him through with his sword," she said.
K'ndar gulped. "Just like that?"
Francie nodded. "Just like that. THAT is when we realized we were dealing with monsters that had no mercy whatsoever. We suddenly understood what we were up against," she said.
"The remaining raider got on his horse, spat at us and said "You will not be forgiven," or something like that, and rode off."
She stood up, brushing the grass off her butt.
"To this day, there are people who wish they'd killed him, too. But we aren't people to kill without reason."
"Did they come back?" K'ndar asked, hoping to delay wherever she was preparing to go and afraid he'd not hear the rest of the tale.
Francie laughed.
"Oh, they did. They came through the same pass. They didn't know we had many lesser trails into the valley, and we keep that to ourselves, to this day. Remember I told you the southern pass is through a narrow, steep walled ravine?"
K'ndar nodded.
"One day one of our village's Runners came in. She'd been on her way back when she sighted a 'host of armed men, riding toward the entrance to the southern pass, heading for our valley."
"And?"
"Well, the village had been prepared for such attacks for as long as anyone could remember," she said, grinning.
"We were prepared, when and who concocted the plan is lost to history. Long ago, the villagers pre-positioned boulders and limbed logs, on the slopes above the pass, piled up, held back only by bulwarks. We'd clear paths below the bulwarks, on those steep slopes, taking out plants and saplings. They'd been there forever, it seemed to me. The ropes were routinely inspected and replaced as they'd weather.
One of the jobs I had as a kid, like the rest, was to maintain the ridgeline trails to the deadfalls, as they're called; making sure it's easy to get to them in a hurry. You didn't go to a bulwark without inspecting it, making sure the bulwarks were still solid and ready to be dropped at a moment's notice. And four times a year, we'd have drills. When the headman rang the bell in a certain sequence, everyone dropped what they were doing and prepared for attack. Some ran to the deadfalls, some drew weapons, that sort of thing. We thought the drills were a nuisance, just busywork…until that day. Now? No one here will ever think that again.
"When they heard that attackers were coming, everyone ran to their stations, with bows and crossbows, and waited. Kids served as runners, tasked to keep the archers supplied. Teens were runners, too, tasked with maintaining communication between the two sides of the valley. That was a dangerous job, because it meant crossing in front or behind the attackers. But the boys, especially, they wanted that job. It was a challenge, you know? Who was the bravest?
The oldest folks, who couldn't manage the steep trails anymore, barred the doors of the cottages and waited, too.
Not long afterwards, here came the marauders. Legend has it there were about a hundred, give or take a few. As we'd trained for generations, we let the entire host enter the valley. They never looked up!
Andray's whistle was the signal to cut the ropes holding the piles back. WHACK!" she cried, imitating someone with a big axe, severing a cable, "and dozens of cables all cut at the same moment! Whooosh! Two hillsides, suddenly pouring down boulders the size of a pony, rocks, logs, roaring downhill FAST, both sides right at YOU, and you have NO where to hide from them!
It took out the entire column of raiders, blocked both ends of the ravine, trapping them. The ones who survived the original slide were then hit with arrows and bolts. They never knew what hit them. Some of them tried to escape,but the horses, the ones who could still move, poor things, couldn't clamber over log piles and boulders, and the raiders who tried to climb up the side were filled with arrows."
She exalted in the totality of victory.
"Then it was just a matter of shooting them all down, like shooting fish in a barrel. Only one escaped, he'd been at the back on a particularly fast horse, and it seems, the moment he heard Andray's signal, he bolted back the way he came. I guess he made it back and reported to Fax because we were never bothered again. We got some really nice horses and a lot more weapons in the bargain," she said, in a hugely satisfied tone of voice.
"The only regrets we had was that a lot of innocent horses had been hurt or killed, and some believe that one survivor was Fax. Too bad we didn't kill him then, our world would have been better off," she said.
"Wow, that's incredible! Is Andray still alive? I'd love to meet him," K'ndar said.
"No, he died about …" but she was interrupted by Coora, her bronze fire lizard, who leaped from his perch on Motanith with a loud screech. Siskin was right behind him, and the two males arrowed into the sky.
"What in the world?" he shouted.
Francie shouted, "Look! A gold! They're after a gold fire lizard!"
The gold fire lizard circled overhead, screeching, and then shot off, flying straight up.
"SISKIN!" K'ndar shouted, knowing it was useless.
"What in the world! We don't HAVE fire lizards here!" Francie cried, astonished. "They're chasing a gold! A queen! Here? This isn't fire lizard habitat, I've never heard of one here!" she said, equally confused.
He will be alright. Siskin and Coora are chasing Zeta Raventh said.
ZETA? Lindea's gold?
Yes. She followed us here. She's in heat.
You're joking.
No
K'ndar looked at Francie.
"Did Motanith tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"That gold fire lizard, it's Zeta, Lindea's queen," he said. "Raventh told me she followed us here," he said.
Francie looked troubled.
"She must be in heat, the way Coora and Siskin are after her."
"That's what Raventh said," he said, all sorts of explanations sparring in his head.
"Yes. Motanith just confirmed it. That's a mating flight," she said.
They could see the three fire lizards in the sky overhead. The gold stabbed her head at Siskin with a loud hiss, making the blue back off. But Coora was flying after Zeta with fierce determination.
"Francie! That's LINDEA's gold! Why would she be here??" he wondered, and then suspicion hit him. "Why would she follow our dragons all the way here, when there's plenty of males, wild and tamed both, close to home?"
"Maybe…to spy on us?" Francie said, shaking her head. "Ah, K'ndar. This is a tougher nut than I expected," she said.
The mountains forming the Northern Barrier Range were awe inspiring.
K'ndar couldn't tear his eyes from them. Yes, there were mountains bordering the steppe he'd grown up on. They were ancient, though, their heights truncated and their outlines smoothed by eons of rain and wind.
These mountains were youngsters in comparison, their fanged peaks softened only by mantles of snow. Trees grew dark and thick below the snow line. He knew, from seeing them from dragonback, that the mountains went on and on to the north in dark, forbidding ranks, clear to the horizon.
Sweet Grass Hold seemed an insignificant speck in their shadows.
They'd landed in a meadow, the knee high grass turning brown but still rich and lush for the free ranging livestock that had bolted at their approach. He could hear the horses, watching them from safe distance, snorting in alarm.
The air, while cool and fresh, seemed to be lacking something. Ah. That was it. Not a hint of salt spray. He was many kilometers from the sea. Despite his heavy flight jacket, the wind found its way inside, chilling him.
Francie stood by, respectful of his silence.
"How in the world did anybody find this place? What is its history?" he asked, finally.
"I don't know, K'ndar. Our history here goes back a thousand years. If you fly high enough, you'll see that the valley is closed at both ends. At the north end, a large waterfall creates the river. There's a turbine there that provides us some power. No one can remember when it was installed. At the south end, there are rapids that, when the river is low in the summer, are ferocious. Believe it or not, we have folks who have special boats, called kaks, to ride them-for sport! Someone a very long time ago built a bridge across it below the southern pass, but it is routinely washed out by heavy meltwater floods, or destroyed by trees being brought down by the river.
There are fords in many spots, but, again, it all depends on the river. The Lochsa has her moods,you see," Francie laughed, loving her birthplace deeply. I miss it, sometimes, but I am glad I don't live here anymore, she thought. Too cold.
"There are several trails, in some places no better than game trails, into the valley, but most of them entail crossing the mountains. There are two fairly level passes, conveniently, one on the south end and one on the north, which can accommodate wagons and draft beasts. I believe they were intentionally created by the first settlers. Sometimes, in the winter, an avalanche will close them for weeks, or until snowmelt! They're in deep ravines, so they have steep sides and are heavily forested. They are our main form of defense," she said.
"Avalanche? What's an avalanche? And, it's not winter now?" he asked, eyeing the snow on the mountain tops.
She laughed. "No, this is late summer here, K'ndar. The snows are there year round."
He shivered involuntarily. "Brrrrrrrrrrr".
"As for avalanches-it's like a mudslide, but of snow, and far more dangerous," she said.
He shook his head. "I'm not even certain what a mudslide is. The steppe is flatland, FLAT," he said.
"I'll show you a video of an avalanche, someday," she said.
She sat down in the deep grass. Her three fire lizards and Siskin were coursing over the grass half-heartedly hunting.
"Sounds to me as if your village was fairly self-sufficient," he said.
"Indeed, although that's not to say we don't have regular transactions with other holds and halls. There are some resources we just don't have here.
We keep to ourselves, normally. We have just about everything we need.
Sweet Grass was established by people who could be termed "Wanderers" but weren't. They were, um, escapees, misfits and dreamers, rebels from a Pernese culture they didn't or couldn't agree with. They were people who had no desire to kneel to a lord, or pay a tithe, or be constrained by what had become a very stratified society. Some were women who wanted to be scientists, not just breeders, some were men on the run after pissing off their lord, and some were craftsmen who just wanted to do their craft without having to worry about where their next meal was coming from.
The recluses of the world seem to gravitate here. No one bothers you as long as you mind your manners, do your part to keep the village going, meaning doing tasks as we did in Weyrlingschool, and share what you have if someone is short. Those who don't want to go by our 'laws' are 'invited' to leave. Most of the time they finally come around, but I know there are many who left and have never returned. Some come and go; some are born and die here. I'm betting my boots that there are people here who've never seen a dragon, although today they can see TWO!"
She glanced fondly at her green Motanith, who was watching something in the distance. She wasn't hungry, Francie knew that.
"We're a commune. We're the last remnant of what the first settlers called an 'egalitarian' society, with science and industry as the cultural basis. I learned early on about the settlers, about the starships, how Terra was rendered unlivable, there was even, at one time, a telescope, until if fell apart just from age.
Everyone is expected to read, to write-we have paper, for instance, although not as good as the stuff they're making now. Everyone is expected to teach their skill to children and as many adults as want to learn. Once a month we have a village get together where problems are brought out and discussed and, to the best of our ability, rectified.
One is expected to be productive. It doesn't matter HOW. Even digging up rocks and piling them into fence rows is a respected craft. We're so far off the maps that I'm the first person in years to have been selected for Impression. Because we never reported Thread fall, the Weyrs seldom came this far north."
Far over their head, skeins of avians called, lending a plaintive note to the wind.
"This isn't to say that we're all inbred yokels. Plenty of folks found their way out and moved to Lemos, or Telgar or further. But many of them come back to raise their two kids, bringing in fresh blood and fresh knowledge," she said.
"You never had Thread here?" he said, thinking of his thread maps. Surely they had thread fall here.
"Oh, yes, we had thread fall. It would die in the snow, which never melts on the mountain tops, and the grubs took care of what hit down here. Unlike so many of the old timers, well, remember, farmers were told to 'watch for grubs' and they all thought that meant to exterminate them! But not here. We may be backwoods, but we're not backward. A thousand years ago, a wise man observed the grubs eating thread, and so we were raised knowing that the grubs were our protectors. We may have lost the technology of the Ancients, but we didn't forget the Charter. We kept up on the events of the rest of Pern, mostly through immigrants. Oh, and from refugees, who found their way here when raiders terrorized their cot holds. Fax was just the most recent. Oh, the stories they told!"
"Fax! Is that what you meant by 'defense'? K'ndar asked.
"In more ways than one. We practiced with weapons and tactics; we kept up on protecting ourselves, even though people thought it was unnecessary. We'd gone ages and ages without as much as a frown from someone outside. Oh, it's not to say people didn't argue, and even fight, but it wasn't the same as that when Fax found our valley. You remember your history, I'm certain. Fax tried to add us to his list of conquered Holds," she said.
"Tried," K'ndar repeated.
Fax, a warlord on a planet that had no words for war, had attacked and absorbed seven Holds, murdered their leaders and rightful heirs of those holds and halls, even held Harpers hostage. Only dragon riders evaded him. He'd eradicated anyone of bloodlines that had held Holds for over two thousand years, to include everyone at Ruatha, save for Lessa, Benden's Weyrwoman and Ramoth's rider.
"Tried. We'd never kept our commune a secret, so it's no surprise that Fax learned of us. We must have appeared, well, we DO appear to be a flock of sleepy eyed sheep. He also learned how rich we are, in terms of what we produce. Furs. Woolen goods. Wood. Livestock! Wait until you see our livestock! He believed that we were just another cot hold, one seemingly unwilling to fight. I'm still amazed that he was able to subjugate so many other holds. It may be that ours was his first attempt at conquest. Whatever the case was, he badly misjudged us," she said.
"Was it actually Fax? Before he took Ruatha and the other holds?" K'ndar asked.
"No one knows. We'd never seen or heard of him and it was only long after the fact, long after Lessa brought Old Timers forward, that we began to understand what had happened. One day, seven men found their way through the Southern Pass into our valley. They claimed to be traders, but no one was fooled by that. Traders don't come bearing swords and no goods.
We didn't pay the swords any mind," she said, "we trained from childhood with our own. We just didn't swagger with them at our belts, displaying them as if they were giant penises."
K'ndar roared.
She sat down and pulled a seed head from the grass. She absentmindedly opened it, unconsciously judging its maturity and whether it was time to harvest. Not yet. Maybe another week, if it doesn't rain? Her three fire lizards returned and settled on Motanith's back. Siskin roosted on Raventh. They chittered to each other.
She saw something flit by, out the corner of her eye, but all she'd caught was the motion. The grass was alive with all sorts of creatures, so she dismissed it.
"They'd been in the village for about a week. We took them in as guests, each one lodged in someone's cottage, where they were fed and treated with respect. They asked all sorts of questions, how many adult males were in the home? Who was our Holder, how wealthy were we, how ready were we prepared to defend ourselves. They got noncommittal answers. No one wanted to boast of his or her wealth, and our leadership was…and still is a nebulous thing. We don't have a Holder. It's shared. We have a headman or woman who is chosen by the rest of the village, anyone over the age of 18 has a say. If everyone agrees on the same person, and he or she is willing to serve, for whatever length of time they choose, then…that's who the "head" is. And it's not always one person. If, say, someone knows more than everyone else on when it's time to, for instance, harvest these oats, well, then he or she is the leader of the harvest. Even the "headman" defers to that person in the harvest. It's a shared task, just like just about everything else. Many Pernese can't deal with that sort of freedom, but it works for us."
K'ndar nodded. It sounded…nice.
"The headman at that time was Andray. The marauders forced their way into his cottage, although, if they'd asked nicely, he would have let them in. They demanded he call the villagers together NOW, to inform the community that Fax was now our lord, and if we didn't obey them or him, we would suffer the consequences.
Andray was quite amused. He realized they were serious only after they stuck a dagger next to his throat.
Then he rang the community bell to summon as many villagers as wanted or were available, to hear him out. He began to tell the crowd that the men had lied to us; they were there to conquer us. He fully expected to have his throat cut then and there, but one of the raiders pushed him aside and told the assembled crowd that the village would be 'wiped out' if we didn't submit.
Someone in the crowd said that she'd had enough of the 'pig' she'd hosted and that they must all leave.
They began to threaten us, and we laughed.
Andray told them flat out, you are no longer welcome. Get on your horses. Now. Leave.
And within moments, their horses were brought out, all tacked up.
Because we outnumbered them, they didn't attack then. I think they left because they had no idea how to handle a village full of people who weren't afraid. One of them said, "You have cut your own throats. We will be back, this time in force," and they mounted and rode away…but not all the way.
There was an old couple who lived on the outskirts of the village. They were both in their 80's, I believe. The two were at their well when the men dismounted. The old man asked them, did they want water for their horses? They grabbed the old man and twisted his arm and said, "Swear fealty to Fax!"
"Whoever he is, he's a pig who I'll do nothing but swear at," he said. That was the excuse the raiders were looking for, any reason they could dream up in order to abuse and intimidate us into submission. Not a one of them had even a single redeeming characteristic. They were rough, cruel men, used to killing people," she said. She shook her head.
"Such brave men, attacking an old couple! "How dare you doubt Fax! We'll make an example of you," they said. They roughed the old man up, threw him to the ground, and shouted at the old woman that she would submit or watch her man be beaten to death. Instead, she ran away, into their barn. They laughed at that.
The old man asked them why, when we'd treated them with respect, they were hurting him, and they laughed. "Your woman ran away!" they jeered. But they'd made a fatal mistake, that of turning their backs on the woman. She was up in the hay mow.
Within seconds, she shot arrows into the backs of four of them. They had armor on their chests, but not the back!! Hee heee! Four of them, dead as hammers as fast as the woman could draw her bow!
The rest were so surprised at the sudden turn of events, they turned to see where the arrows had come from, and the old man-from the ground, mind you-grabbed one of the dead men's swords and stabbed the one closest to him in the back of his knee, severing the artery. No, he almost completely cut off the leg at the knee! THAT one fell down and squawked until he bled out…which didn't take long.
By that time, the entire village had arrived, every one of them mad enough to boil eggs. The two survivors put their backs together and began to threaten our people. But they were surrounded, and now they were the ones who were afraid.
Andray walked up to them, just beyond reach of their swords, and gave them a choice. Put down their swords or fall on them, because we weren't going to submit to anyone. He said, we will let one of you go. One of you will stay here, in chains, until he is ransomed. You choose. The other goes back to Fax. Tell him to go shaff himself," she said.
"Then they did something that shook us to the core. One turned to the other and without hesitation, ran him through with his sword," she said.
K'ndar gulped. "Just like that?"
Francie nodded. "Just like that. THAT is when we realized we were dealing with monsters that had no mercy whatsoever. We suddenly understood what we were up against," she said.
"The remaining raider got on his horse, spat at us and said "You will not be forgiven," or something like that, and rode off."
She stood up, brushing the grass off her butt.
"To this day, there are people who wish they'd killed him, too. But we aren't people to kill without reason."
"Did they come back?" K'ndar asked, hoping to delay wherever she was preparing to go and afraid he'd not hear the rest of the tale.
Francie laughed.
"Oh, they did. They came through the same pass. They didn't know we had many lesser trails into the valley, and we keep that to ourselves, to this day. Remember I told you the southern pass is through a narrow, steep walled ravine?"
K'ndar nodded.
"One day one of our village's Runners came in. She'd been on her way back when she sighted a 'host of armed men, riding toward the entrance to the southern pass, heading for our valley."
"And?"
"Well, the village had been prepared for such attacks for as long as anyone could remember," she said, grinning.
"We were prepared, when and who concocted the plan is lost to history. Long ago, the villagers pre-positioned boulders and limbed logs, on the slopes above the pass, piled up, held back only by bulwarks. We'd clear paths below the bulwarks, on those steep slopes, taking out plants and saplings. They'd been there forever, it seemed to me. The ropes were routinely inspected and replaced as they'd weather.
One of the jobs I had as a kid, like the rest, was to maintain the ridgeline trails to the deadfalls, as they're called; making sure it's easy to get to them in a hurry. You didn't go to a bulwark without inspecting it, making sure the bulwarks were still solid and ready to be dropped at a moment's notice. And four times a year, we'd have drills. When the headman rang the bell in a certain sequence, everyone dropped what they were doing and prepared for attack. Some ran to the deadfalls, some drew weapons, that sort of thing. We thought the drills were a nuisance, just busywork…until that day. Now? No one here will ever think that again.
"When they heard that attackers were coming, everyone ran to their stations, with bows and crossbows, and waited. Kids served as runners, tasked to keep the archers supplied. Teens were runners, too, tasked with maintaining communication between the two sides of the valley. That was a dangerous job, because it meant crossing in front or behind the attackers. But the boys, especially, they wanted that job. It was a challenge, you know? Who was the bravest?
The oldest folks, who couldn't manage the steep trails anymore, barred the doors of the cottages and waited, too.
Not long afterwards, here came the marauders. Legend has it there were about a hundred, give or take a few. As we'd trained for generations, we let the entire host enter the valley. They never looked up!
Andray's whistle was the signal to cut the ropes holding the piles back. WHACK!" she cried, imitating someone with a big axe, severing a cable, "and dozens of cables all cut at the same moment! Whooosh! Two hillsides, suddenly pouring down boulders the size of a pony, rocks, logs, roaring downhill FAST, both sides right at YOU, and you have NO where to hide from them!
It took out the entire column of raiders, blocked both ends of the ravine, trapping them. The ones who survived the original slide were then hit with arrows and bolts. They never knew what hit them. Some of them tried to escape,but the horses, the ones who could still move, poor things, couldn't clamber over log piles and boulders, and the raiders who tried to climb up the side were filled with arrows."
She exalted in the totality of victory.
"Then it was just a matter of shooting them all down, like shooting fish in a barrel. Only one escaped, he'd been at the back on a particularly fast horse, and it seems, the moment he heard Andray's signal, he bolted back the way he came. I guess he made it back and reported to Fax because we were never bothered again. We got some really nice horses and a lot more weapons in the bargain," she said, in a hugely satisfied tone of voice.
"The only regrets we had was that a lot of innocent horses had been hurt or killed, and some believe that one survivor was Fax. Too bad we didn't kill him then, our world would have been better off," she said.
"Wow, that's incredible! Is Andray still alive? I'd love to meet him," K'ndar said.
"No, he died about …" but she was interrupted by Coora, her bronze fire lizard, who leaped from his perch on Motanith with a loud screech. Siskin was right behind him, and the two males arrowed into the sky.
"What in the world?" he shouted.
Francie shouted, "Look! A gold! They're after a gold fire lizard!"
The gold fire lizard circled overhead, screeching, and then shot off, flying straight up.
"SISKIN!" K'ndar shouted, knowing it was useless.
"What in the world! We don't HAVE fire lizards here!" Francie cried, astonished. "They're chasing a gold! A queen! Here? This isn't fire lizard habitat, I've never heard of one here!" she said, equally confused.
He will be alright. Siskin and Coora are chasing Zeta Raventh said.
ZETA? Lindea's gold?
Yes. She followed us here. She's in heat.
You're joking.
No
K'ndar looked at Francie.
"Did Motanith tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"That gold fire lizard, it's Zeta, Lindea's queen," he said. "Raventh told me she followed us here," he said.
Francie looked troubled.
"She must be in heat, the way Coora and Siskin are after her."
"That's what Raventh said," he said, all sorts of explanations sparring in his head.
"Yes. Motanith just confirmed it. That's a mating flight," she said.
They could see the three fire lizards in the sky overhead. The gold stabbed her head at Siskin with a loud hiss, making the blue back off. But Coora was flying after Zeta with fierce determination.
"Francie! That's LINDEA's gold! Why would she be here??" he wondered, and then suspicion hit him. "Why would she follow our dragons all the way here, when there's plenty of males, wild and tamed both, close to home?"
"Maybe…to spy on us?" Francie said, shaking her head. "Ah, K'ndar. This is a tougher nut than I expected," she said.
14 May 2020
Chap. 179 The Follower
Chap. 179 The Follower
He felt restless, unsure of what he wanted to do. What he didn't want to do was waste this beautiful day sitting around the Weyr.
Maybe I should try 'exploring' again?
This time, go prepared Raventh said, snidely.
Even his dragon, calling him out for his failure last time?
The last time you made mistakes. But it went right, too. So this time, we can go someplace and you must bring things that humans seem to need Raventh said, in a soothing tone.
K'ndar nodded, unconsciously.
Dragons are lucky, they have everything they need already installed
Raventh agreed without a word.
Where to go, where to go. Okay, I'll try Risal's method. He dug out his map of Pern, then, closing his eyes and circling a finger over the map, stabbed at it and opened his eyes.
There was just a small spot, without a name. Halfway between Lemos and Telgar, it appeared to be a small cothold.
After several minutes of cudgeling his brain, he remembered Francie mentioning that she was from that area, and that oh yes! They had snow tigers! What did she call it? He stretched his memory muscles, but they failed him. He remembered he'd never heard of the Hold, so he'd never memorized any dragonstones it might have.
I give up, he thought. But she'll know, if nothing else, she can send me the coordinates, maybe even the dragonstones of her hold, and I can maybe strike out from there.
He quickly wrote up a note for Francie, tucked it into Siskin's message harness, then called the blue to him. Harnessing the fire lizard, he said, "Siskin. Remember Sisi, Coora, and Keeso? Carry this to Francie."
Siskin's eyes whirled, and K'ndar imagined Francie's three fire lizards, as he'd seen them at the Gather at Ruatha.
Siskin chirped an affirmation.
Careful, he might try to go to them THEN.
Oops, good catch. I don't doubt fire lizards can time travel.
He undressed them in his mind, then added Francie's face.
"Take this to Francie," he said to the fire lizard.
Siskin chipped.
He remembers them. And her.
"On your way, my good lad," he said.
Siskin whirred out of their weyr and disappeared.
How convenient, he thought, how bloody easy it is to send messages and things via fire lizard.
He looked closer at the map, visualizing it. The mountains of the Northern Barrier Range, here…and halfway between Lemos and Telgar. That should be about…here. The spot he'd touched was in valley between two ridges stretching southeast of the Northern Barrier Range.
He remembered his classes on that feature, B'rant, the Weyrlingmaster, insisting the Weyrlings be able to visualize it in three dimensions, rather than two. Map reading and topographical information had come easily to K'ndar. It was amazing, he thought, how some things just didn't stick in his head, like meteorology, and yet land navigation did.
"You folks from the outer holds, you have it easier because you probably dealt with navigating across these topographical features on a daily basis," the Weyrlingmaster had said.
K'ndar found himself nodding in agreement. Some of his classmates, though, had never bushwhacked cross country and had a rough time translating a map into reality. He'd spent many a night helping his roommate, B'rost, learn the mental gyrations of map reading, instead of working on his own weakness, meteorology. He'd just barely grasped enough of it to Graduate.
Thank the stars dragons ALWAYS paid attention to weather.
He was still contemplating the map when Siskin reappeared, bearing his message pouch with pride.
"Good lad! You are the most clever fire lizard EVER," he said, scratching the fire lizards head. He removed the harness and opened the message pouch.
It's called Sweet Grass. Don't go just yet. Raylan is down at Honshu, I took him there two days ago. He'll be there all week. I'm bored out of my mind for something to do. I've not been back there in a very long while. Want some company? If NOT, send Siskin back with this note, and I'll draw the cairns for you. Sweet Grass Hold is so small we never really created dragonstones. If you would like me to come along, DON'T respond. I'll be there in half an hour. Pack for cold weather, it may be snowing!
Francie
That was it, Sweet Grass. Hmmm. Honshu. He still hadn't taken the time to explore the Dragon Rider's Hold.
It was tempting, but he'd already made the decision by contacting Francie, so Honshu would have to wait…again.
He wanted to go alone. But the last time he did that, turned out to be a disaster before it turned into a heroic rescue. Francie was good company, and she'd be able to guide him around a spot so remote that it was nothing but a dot on the map. I can always go by myself once I'm oriented.
What to pack? A notebook, binoculars, DeeArrPlanks "Natural History of Pern" and survival stuff. Cold weather gear. And food. I'll go down to the dining hall, grab some food for the trip and meet her there.
After harnessing Raventh, he rode him the short drop to the bowl fronting the dining hall and dismounted.
I'll be out in a few minutes. Keep Siskin with you.
Don't forget something for him, I'm full and won't be hunting.
He entered the dining hall. It was almost empty. But there was always food available.
He chose several meat rolls, some fruit, half a loaf of still warm bread, and a bubbly pie. His water flasks were full. That should hold him for the day. At the end of one of the serving lines was a covered jar labeled "meat scraps for fire lizards and pets". He removed fire lizard sized portions for Siskin, and put them into the special pouch he carried.
Siskin says that's not enough
K'ndar laughed out loud.
"What's so funny?" a voice said behind him. He turned to see Lindea. He apron was dusty with flour and her fingers stained from berries.
"Hi, Lindea! I was laughing at what Raventh said, telling me the treats I just pulled for Siskin won't be enough," he said, grinning.
"Oh. That is funny," she said,flatly, her eyes saying it wasn't funny at all. "You're obviously going out somewhere, with all that food. Going to meet your girlfriend? Rasil, is that her name?" she asked. Her tone was cold.
It felt like a punch in the stomach. His face flushed, guilt flooding him, despite his not having done anything to warrant Lindea's accusation.
"Oh, come on, Lindea, it's Risal, she's just a friend. There's nothing between us," he protested, defensively.
Shaff it, I'm my own man, Lindea! What is WRONG with you? he wanted to shout, guilt turning to anger.
His mind fumbled, blindsided, and the words died in his mouth.
"I see. Well, wherever you're going, tell her I said hello," Lindea said, and before he could react, she turned and stalked off.
His feelings shifted to resentment. He stifled the urge to follow her and try to reason with her.
Let it go. Females are strange.
THAT they are.
Motanith is here. With their three fire lizards.
GOOD. Tell her to tell Francie I'll be right out.
She's already on her way in
Francie walked in with her typical easy going stride.
She was laughing. The few other folks in the hall turned and smiled at her.
"No fire lizards or dogs! I certainly understand THAT!" she chortled.
He felt relief at Francie's friendly face.
"Ah, there you are, K'ndar! Does your hall have a pot for fire lizard treats? I hadn't any in my kitchen, I hadn't plan on going anywhere today, not until your message," she said.
"Of course, and you might want to get something to eat for yourself," he said. Her joyous greeting dispelled much of the gloom that Lindea had dropped on his shoulders.
He led the way back to the serving line. Lindea was in the doorway to the main kitchen, watching. He could feel her disapproval radiating even from a distance. He found himself taking large handfuls of scraps from the fire lizard's treat jar and absentmindedly handing them over to Francie.
"Whoa, whoa, that's more than enough!" Francie protested, and K'ndar stopped and forced himself into paying attention to what he was doing.
"Sorry, I was, um,distracted," he said.
Francie took half the scraps he'd handed her and placed them in the pouch she used for her lizards. He stuffed the rest back in the jar and hurriedly turned to leave.
What in the world is wrong with him today?
Raventh said a human is bothering him Motanith said.
How? What human?
A female human. She is angry with him.
I'm glad I packed food for myself, she thought, he needs to get out of here now.
"Thanks, K'ndar, are you ready to go?"
"More than you can imagine," he said.
____________________________________________________________________________
They were in the air, flying lazily north, K'ndar waiting for her to pass the coordinates to Raventh through Motanith. Francie's three fire lizards were festooned on her green dragon, looking like exotic decorations. They had their wings extended, appearing as if they were helping Francie's green dragon fly.
He laughed, feeling better doing so. Siskin always rode "chilly", his wings tight against his sides, just behind Raventh's head.
It's because he's protected from the wind behind my ears. But three won't fit behind Motanith's head, she's too small, so they have to put their wings out to balance. But I think they do it for fun, too. Raventh said.
In her typical, diplomatic way, Francie went right to the point.
"We can talk now, K'ndar. I've never seen you so distracted. You've something on your mind," she called across the gap between their dragons, "Do you want to discuss it?"
K'ndar felt a cascade of warring emotions. He'd wanted to talk to Someone, someone female, about Lindea, but wasn't sure if it was him overreacting to something that really wasn't happening, or what?
"Shards, yes, I'm beside myself, trying to figure her out," he said, and his story poured out of him. "I sound resentful, almost childish, but I can't phrase it any other way," he said, "I don't know why she's so pissed at me. Risal said she's jealous."
Francie nodded, thinking it through. "I agree," she said. Their dragons banked to keep the prevailing winds underneath their wings. They were far over the sea, now. Raventh told Motanith to watch for dolphins, but they didn't see any.
"But…" K'ndar said, protesting.
Francie raised a hand.
"You're going to say you've done nothing wrong, and you're right. I haven't met Lindea, but I suspect she usually is a sweet tempered girl, with a big heart, and suddenly she's hissing at you, she's got her alpha mare ears flattened and her tail's swishing. She's suddenly bitter and suspicious, and making you feel as if you're to blame for SOMETHING," she said, "but she won't say WHAT."
"YES! Thank you for understanding, because I surely do NOT," he said, overwhelmed with relief that she understood without him having to explain a feeling he had no words for.
"She-well, tell you what, let's head for Sweet Grass, because we'll never get there today at flying speed. I'll tell you what's going on there, without fear of her overhearing. For now, I can tell you, you have done nothing wrong. Okay, pay attention, Motanith is going to push the coordinates, and then we'll go between," she said.
They did not see Zeta, Lindea's gold fire lizard, flying just behind them.
He felt restless, unsure of what he wanted to do. What he didn't want to do was waste this beautiful day sitting around the Weyr.
Maybe I should try 'exploring' again?
This time, go prepared Raventh said, snidely.
Even his dragon, calling him out for his failure last time?
The last time you made mistakes. But it went right, too. So this time, we can go someplace and you must bring things that humans seem to need Raventh said, in a soothing tone.
K'ndar nodded, unconsciously.
Dragons are lucky, they have everything they need already installed
Raventh agreed without a word.
Where to go, where to go. Okay, I'll try Risal's method. He dug out his map of Pern, then, closing his eyes and circling a finger over the map, stabbed at it and opened his eyes.
There was just a small spot, without a name. Halfway between Lemos and Telgar, it appeared to be a small cothold.
After several minutes of cudgeling his brain, he remembered Francie mentioning that she was from that area, and that oh yes! They had snow tigers! What did she call it? He stretched his memory muscles, but they failed him. He remembered he'd never heard of the Hold, so he'd never memorized any dragonstones it might have.
I give up, he thought. But she'll know, if nothing else, she can send me the coordinates, maybe even the dragonstones of her hold, and I can maybe strike out from there.
He quickly wrote up a note for Francie, tucked it into Siskin's message harness, then called the blue to him. Harnessing the fire lizard, he said, "Siskin. Remember Sisi, Coora, and Keeso? Carry this to Francie."
Siskin's eyes whirled, and K'ndar imagined Francie's three fire lizards, as he'd seen them at the Gather at Ruatha.
Siskin chirped an affirmation.
Careful, he might try to go to them THEN.
Oops, good catch. I don't doubt fire lizards can time travel.
He undressed them in his mind, then added Francie's face.
"Take this to Francie," he said to the fire lizard.
Siskin chipped.
He remembers them. And her.
"On your way, my good lad," he said.
Siskin whirred out of their weyr and disappeared.
How convenient, he thought, how bloody easy it is to send messages and things via fire lizard.
He looked closer at the map, visualizing it. The mountains of the Northern Barrier Range, here…and halfway between Lemos and Telgar. That should be about…here. The spot he'd touched was in valley between two ridges stretching southeast of the Northern Barrier Range.
He remembered his classes on that feature, B'rant, the Weyrlingmaster, insisting the Weyrlings be able to visualize it in three dimensions, rather than two. Map reading and topographical information had come easily to K'ndar. It was amazing, he thought, how some things just didn't stick in his head, like meteorology, and yet land navigation did.
"You folks from the outer holds, you have it easier because you probably dealt with navigating across these topographical features on a daily basis," the Weyrlingmaster had said.
K'ndar found himself nodding in agreement. Some of his classmates, though, had never bushwhacked cross country and had a rough time translating a map into reality. He'd spent many a night helping his roommate, B'rost, learn the mental gyrations of map reading, instead of working on his own weakness, meteorology. He'd just barely grasped enough of it to Graduate.
Thank the stars dragons ALWAYS paid attention to weather.
He was still contemplating the map when Siskin reappeared, bearing his message pouch with pride.
"Good lad! You are the most clever fire lizard EVER," he said, scratching the fire lizards head. He removed the harness and opened the message pouch.
It's called Sweet Grass. Don't go just yet. Raylan is down at Honshu, I took him there two days ago. He'll be there all week. I'm bored out of my mind for something to do. I've not been back there in a very long while. Want some company? If NOT, send Siskin back with this note, and I'll draw the cairns for you. Sweet Grass Hold is so small we never really created dragonstones. If you would like me to come along, DON'T respond. I'll be there in half an hour. Pack for cold weather, it may be snowing!
Francie
That was it, Sweet Grass. Hmmm. Honshu. He still hadn't taken the time to explore the Dragon Rider's Hold.
It was tempting, but he'd already made the decision by contacting Francie, so Honshu would have to wait…again.
He wanted to go alone. But the last time he did that, turned out to be a disaster before it turned into a heroic rescue. Francie was good company, and she'd be able to guide him around a spot so remote that it was nothing but a dot on the map. I can always go by myself once I'm oriented.
What to pack? A notebook, binoculars, DeeArrPlanks "Natural History of Pern" and survival stuff. Cold weather gear. And food. I'll go down to the dining hall, grab some food for the trip and meet her there.
After harnessing Raventh, he rode him the short drop to the bowl fronting the dining hall and dismounted.
I'll be out in a few minutes. Keep Siskin with you.
Don't forget something for him, I'm full and won't be hunting.
He entered the dining hall. It was almost empty. But there was always food available.
He chose several meat rolls, some fruit, half a loaf of still warm bread, and a bubbly pie. His water flasks were full. That should hold him for the day. At the end of one of the serving lines was a covered jar labeled "meat scraps for fire lizards and pets". He removed fire lizard sized portions for Siskin, and put them into the special pouch he carried.
Siskin says that's not enough
K'ndar laughed out loud.
"What's so funny?" a voice said behind him. He turned to see Lindea. He apron was dusty with flour and her fingers stained from berries.
"Hi, Lindea! I was laughing at what Raventh said, telling me the treats I just pulled for Siskin won't be enough," he said, grinning.
"Oh. That is funny," she said,flatly, her eyes saying it wasn't funny at all. "You're obviously going out somewhere, with all that food. Going to meet your girlfriend? Rasil, is that her name?" she asked. Her tone was cold.
It felt like a punch in the stomach. His face flushed, guilt flooding him, despite his not having done anything to warrant Lindea's accusation.
"Oh, come on, Lindea, it's Risal, she's just a friend. There's nothing between us," he protested, defensively.
Shaff it, I'm my own man, Lindea! What is WRONG with you? he wanted to shout, guilt turning to anger.
His mind fumbled, blindsided, and the words died in his mouth.
"I see. Well, wherever you're going, tell her I said hello," Lindea said, and before he could react, she turned and stalked off.
His feelings shifted to resentment. He stifled the urge to follow her and try to reason with her.
Let it go. Females are strange.
THAT they are.
Motanith is here. With their three fire lizards.
GOOD. Tell her to tell Francie I'll be right out.
She's already on her way in
Francie walked in with her typical easy going stride.
She was laughing. The few other folks in the hall turned and smiled at her.
"No fire lizards or dogs! I certainly understand THAT!" she chortled.
He felt relief at Francie's friendly face.
"Ah, there you are, K'ndar! Does your hall have a pot for fire lizard treats? I hadn't any in my kitchen, I hadn't plan on going anywhere today, not until your message," she said.
"Of course, and you might want to get something to eat for yourself," he said. Her joyous greeting dispelled much of the gloom that Lindea had dropped on his shoulders.
He led the way back to the serving line. Lindea was in the doorway to the main kitchen, watching. He could feel her disapproval radiating even from a distance. He found himself taking large handfuls of scraps from the fire lizard's treat jar and absentmindedly handing them over to Francie.
"Whoa, whoa, that's more than enough!" Francie protested, and K'ndar stopped and forced himself into paying attention to what he was doing.
"Sorry, I was, um,distracted," he said.
Francie took half the scraps he'd handed her and placed them in the pouch she used for her lizards. He stuffed the rest back in the jar and hurriedly turned to leave.
What in the world is wrong with him today?
Raventh said a human is bothering him Motanith said.
How? What human?
A female human. She is angry with him.
I'm glad I packed food for myself, she thought, he needs to get out of here now.
"Thanks, K'ndar, are you ready to go?"
"More than you can imagine," he said.
____________________________________________________________________________
They were in the air, flying lazily north, K'ndar waiting for her to pass the coordinates to Raventh through Motanith. Francie's three fire lizards were festooned on her green dragon, looking like exotic decorations. They had their wings extended, appearing as if they were helping Francie's green dragon fly.
He laughed, feeling better doing so. Siskin always rode "chilly", his wings tight against his sides, just behind Raventh's head.
It's because he's protected from the wind behind my ears. But three won't fit behind Motanith's head, she's too small, so they have to put their wings out to balance. But I think they do it for fun, too. Raventh said.
In her typical, diplomatic way, Francie went right to the point.
"We can talk now, K'ndar. I've never seen you so distracted. You've something on your mind," she called across the gap between their dragons, "Do you want to discuss it?"
K'ndar felt a cascade of warring emotions. He'd wanted to talk to Someone, someone female, about Lindea, but wasn't sure if it was him overreacting to something that really wasn't happening, or what?
"Shards, yes, I'm beside myself, trying to figure her out," he said, and his story poured out of him. "I sound resentful, almost childish, but I can't phrase it any other way," he said, "I don't know why she's so pissed at me. Risal said she's jealous."
Francie nodded, thinking it through. "I agree," she said. Their dragons banked to keep the prevailing winds underneath their wings. They were far over the sea, now. Raventh told Motanith to watch for dolphins, but they didn't see any.
"But…" K'ndar said, protesting.
Francie raised a hand.
"You're going to say you've done nothing wrong, and you're right. I haven't met Lindea, but I suspect she usually is a sweet tempered girl, with a big heart, and suddenly she's hissing at you, she's got her alpha mare ears flattened and her tail's swishing. She's suddenly bitter and suspicious, and making you feel as if you're to blame for SOMETHING," she said, "but she won't say WHAT."
"YES! Thank you for understanding, because I surely do NOT," he said, overwhelmed with relief that she understood without him having to explain a feeling he had no words for.
"She-well, tell you what, let's head for Sweet Grass, because we'll never get there today at flying speed. I'll tell you what's going on there, without fear of her overhearing. For now, I can tell you, you have done nothing wrong. Okay, pay attention, Motanith is going to push the coordinates, and then we'll go between," she said.
They did not see Zeta, Lindea's gold fire lizard, flying just behind them.
02 May 2020
Chap. 178 Final Act of Revenge
Chap. 178 Final Act of Revenge
Raventh landed gently in the bowl of their weyr and shuffled to one side to allow Rastabenth, C'val's blue dragon room.
Once down, both riders unharnessed their dragons.
I'll be in the dragon pool, taking a bath Raventh said, I'm all dusty
Want me to come and scrub between your wings?
Not necessary. Most of the dust is on my face and front, anyway. Siskin does that better than you. He knows where a dragon itches. Besides, there's a lot of fire lizards there right now, he'll have help if he needs it. Besides, I know you want to bathe, too.
I do, then get something to eat. The sweep just seem timed so that we missed meal times every spot we went.
Raventh checked all around him, then leaped into the sky to fly to the dragon pool.
Rastabenth was right behind him.
K'ndar sighed. "I never get tired of seeing dragons fly off on their own," he said.
C'val pulled off his goggles and helmet. "It's impressive, isn't it? It's a wonder there's anyone on the planet who doesn't want to be a dragonrider," he said.
"I remember the first dragonriders I ever met..you and D'mitran! I was so awed…"
C'val laughed. "That was a memorable stop for us. Your father…"
"Was a bastard and now he's dead, and Pern and my family are all the better for it," K'ndar said.
He scratched his head. How did I get sand in my hair when I was wearing a helmet?
"I hadn't planned on getting this dirty," C'val said, "where in the world did that dust storm came from? It feels like I have the entire beach in my hair. I better go now, before Sinala gets home. She'll have a fit if I should walk into the weyr bringing half the desert with me."
"I thought she was out on Search?"
"She was, at least, she was scheduled for it, then Ops pulled her off for something else. We're so shorthanded, lately, I'm hoping that they're right and that Mirth does lay a clutch soon. It'll be a year before the resulting Weyrlings are up and fully trained for duty, but anything will help," he said.
He brushed sand off his riding jacket. "Thanks for the help, K'ndar. You make a good sweep partner," he said.
"Thank you. If you want, I'll report in to Ops for both of us. No need for two of us to do it," K'ndar said, "I have to do it anyway, this was F'mart's week for sweeps, but he's still at Landing, so I pulled his shift for him. I'm wondering if he's ever coming back!"
"Truth be told, judging from what Sinala's told me in the past about F'mart, I think I'd rather…well, that's gossip, nevermind." C'val said.
"No need, I know what you mean. He was a real pain in the arse, a bully and a mouthy one. But he's done a lot of changing, someone's been 'talking' to him. He's…well, he's three years younger than me, so I can sort of understand what he's going through."
C'val looked doubtful. "I believe you, but still…you're a good rider and a good man to have as my wingman, K'ndar. I'll take you up on your offer to do the reporting, thank you very much!
This way, I can get my shower in and have dinner started when Sinala comes in. This way, even if I leave some sand, she might not notice," he said, laughing. He rolled his harness up and over his shoulder, and headed for his weyr.
K'ndar reflected on how happy C'val looked, now that he was partnered with Sinala, who'd been his classmate. He was going to ask him what to do, if anything? about the discord between his friends Lindea and Risal. No, wait. It's all emanating from that one encounter and all from Lindea. What in the world? Maybe I should talk to a woman. Siena, his Weyrwoman? No. She's busy as a one legged man in an asskicking contest. Maybe Hariko? Well, maybe, but Hariko would insist he was skin and bones and eat, lad, eat! No. Mum? Oh, NO, not Mum. Love her I do, but …no, I don't want to discuss this with Mum. She'd be saying something like, "how many grandchildren can I expect?" I ..don't want kids, I know. I don't know who to talk to, really, or if I should even try. Most men, when asked how to deal with 'women', just roll their eyes and say the same thing: "beats me".
The watch dragon called out to an airborne dragon, angling in for a landing.
K'ndar made his way to the walls of the bowl, to clear the way. The incoming dragon was a big one, even for a bronze. It had to be Kenth, with F'mart.
"Incoming!" he heard F'mart shout.
"Clear!" K'ndar called, rushing to stand against the bowl's wall. If only the ancients, the ones who'd carved the bowl out of rock, had realized how big dragons would eventually be. This one was barely large enough to hold a pair of dragons. A gold and a bronze together would be too risky, given how large they are. The Weyrling training bowl was much, much larger, but farther from Ops, and on the other side of the cliff.
Kenth landed with a mighty swoosh of backwinging. In the relatively confined bowl, he looked enormous. Sand blew up from the backwash of his wings. Someone had neglected to sweep the bowl's floor.
F'mart climbed down, then turned to unbuckle his passenger.
Wonder who that is, he thought. The passenger gingerly climbed down and then turned and patting Kenth's forearm, said "Thank you, Kenth."
F'mart reached under the bronze's belly to unbuckle the harness. Once it was loose, he pulled it over the dragon's back. Kenth shook himself to help it off. F'mart pulled it away. It seemed like a kilometer's worth of leather straps. Yet another reason I'm happy to have a brown 'on the small side', he reflected.
"Back off, Kenth's going to launch," he said to the passenger.
"Raventh's already at the pool,"K'ndar called, knowing a dragon wanting a bath when he saw one. Kenth leaped, his wings already grabbing air to lift him over the weyr to the dragon pool beyond. A large cloud of dust blew over K'ndar.
"Someone needs to sweep this bowl!" he said, irritated.
"I'll do it," said the passenger.
F'mart grinned. "No doubt! We're always willing to have a volunteer," he said.
Suddenly K'ndar recognized the passenger.
"By the egg, it's Harve! Look at you!" he cried in astonishment.
The boy straightened up. "Hello, K'ndar," he said.
"You aren't the same boy from three weeks ago, look at you!" he said, amazed at the change.
The boy stood taller than he'd remembered. He looked far happier and in better shape than a few weeks ago.
F'mart chuckled. "He's put on kilos, got a good bath, a proper haircut and clothes."
"And physical therapy, K'ndar, Marl …look what Marl did for me." The boy walked in a straight line away from them, did a turn and came back. He still walked stiffly, as if his back hurt, but he was taking full strides and his legs were tracking straight and true.
F'mart couldn't keep from grinning.
"It was you who did it, Harve, don't dismiss yourself. You've worked your arse off. Marl had to make you stop and let your body recover, remember?"
Harve nodded. "But I don't WANT to stop. Not until I can run."
K'ndar said, "Did it hurt you to ride Kenth astride, this time?"
Harve shrugged. "Yes, but not so bad. Not as bad as the first time, I forced my legs wide to ride Kenth. That hurt! Now I know EVERYONE has to..he's BIG," the boy said, enamored with F'mart's dragon. "How did you know it hurt?"
"Raventh told me," K'ndar said. "Dragons don't keep secrets. They gossip," he said, laughing. Then he sobered. "But even so, Harve, it's wonderful to see you. You look fit and healthy!"
Harve smiled shyly. "That first bath!I scrubbed and scrubbed. The water had to be changed three times. I had no skin left when I finally felt clean enough. I think I'll bathe every day for the rest of my life."
"Been into Ops, yet, K'ndar?" F'mart asked. His eyes said he wanted to discuss something out of Harve's hearing.
"Not yet. I pulled your sweep duty, you were scheduled for it this week," K'ndar said.
"Thanks," F'mart said, "I am sorry I wasn't back earlier to pull it, but,"
"He was helping me, K'ndar. Especially with the physical therapy! I'm better now!" Harve said.
K'ndar raised a hand. "That's fine with me, Harve. You chose well, with F'mart," he turned to F'mart and added, "not to worry, you'll pay me back someday. For now, though, let's go report into Ops."
"Harve, do you mind waiting for us here? Flight Ops is a small office, and I bet there's not much room in it for all of us," he said.
"I don't mind. I just want to look around. And get something to eat," he said.
F'mart laughed. "This won't take long, I promise. Then we'll go get some dinner, and I'll have Hariko..she's our headwoman, find a bunk for you. Now remember, when you hear the watchdragon, see the green up there? When her rider calls out "incoming" or something like that, make room, like K'ndar there, stand against the wall or duck into that alcove, because a dragon is coming into land. You can call "clear!" when you are, if you want. It's exciting to see dragons coming in, I know I never get tired of it," F'mart said.
"Okay,"Harve said, "I'll be right here." He pressed his back against the wall and scanned the sky for dragons.
F'mart collected K'ndar with his eyes and they headed for Flight Ops.
As soon as they were out of sight of the boy, F'mart said, "Surprised you, didn't he?"
"I'll say! I didn't recognize him!"
"He's worked and worked, K'ndar, I've never seen a boy so determined to walk, to learn, to be normal. The first few days, he could only eat little meals. His stomach was shrunken, and Marl said he could only handle simple, 'easily digested foods, a bland diet," for a month. The lad wouldn't hear it, though. Second or third day, he started feeding like a starved dragon. You could almost watch him inflate, like a dried sponge sucking up water. He's lucky, Marl said, despite the wounds on his legs, he's young enough that his bones are still pliable enough that he'll eventually be as close to normal as he can be, as long as he keeps doing the exercises."
F'mart pulled him aside.
"The first two nights, he didn't want to be alone. He had nightmares every night for a couple weeks. He was afraid, K'ndar, afraid it was all a dream and he'd wake up and still be on that shitspeck of an island. He didn't trust anyone, except me. And Kenth. He adores Kenth.
They have a 'counselor' there, at Landing, not Marl. She's an older woman, she just wanted to 'talk' with Harve. He resisted, but I told him he needed to talk things out. He wanted Kenth to be with them. Not ME! So they did the counseling in the dragon meadow. Imagine that! Kenth told me what he said, of course, but…he got a lot of comfort from Kenth.
They had a session every single day, sometimes he'd come back all tear streaked, but what she told me was that she was walking him through the process of overcoming the emotional trauma. He's a strong willed lad, K'ndar, she said that he is going to be alright. She said once the dreams stopped, he be on the road to recovery. She was right, she's very good. The dreams stopped about ten days ago, he said.
He's gone through some rough times, K'ndar. Shipfish and his mates, before he killed them, managed to kill off his family, the ones that survived the shipwreck. His dad, the captain. His Mum's sister, the woman in the cave, was the ship's cook. His older sister, who was first mate, and two members of the crew. And Harve. That's all that survived the wreck. K'ndar, this kid, he's-Kenth says he's 'unusual, that there is a greatness about him."
"Meaning, how?"
"I don't know, K'ndar, but I can see it. You know, of course, that the island's been put off limits for all of Pern, yes?"
"Yes. Not only that, I told the dolphins about Shipfish killing them, and gave them the necklace, to take to Tillek."
F'mart's eyebrows rose. "How did they take that?"
"It was intense. They were shocked. I didn't tell them about the clearing with the skulls, I didn't think they'd need that burden. They thanked me. They thanked us-the team."
F'mart looked left and right, to make sure no one was listening.
"K'ndar..this is for us only to know this, okay?"
Surprised-for F'mart had never been surreptitious, K'ndar nodded mutely.
"The island is off limits. But Harve begged me to take him back there, one last time. I had to, K'ndar, the look in his eyes, the urgency in his voice…there was something, one last thing he had to do, before letting it all go," F'mart said. "So, don't say you know anything about what I'm about to relate. If anyone finds out, I'll take the heat. But I have to share this with you, it's…it's incredible. And fun!"
K'ndar listened, entranced.
"Harve, K'ndar, he's smart. He's keen as a razor. We're walking to the dragon meadow to come here. Harve mentioned, all casual like, if dragons could flame just anytime, whenever they want? I said no, we have to feed them firestone. He went flat, and I remembered how he was shouting for joy when we fired the wreck.
You know what thrill it is! I thought, he wants to see the dragon flame. I had a few stones left, fed them to Kenth. I figured we get out to somewhere and just let him flame. But no, Harve.
Once we were airborne, he asked- no, DEMANDED we go back to the clearing. It's off limits, I said, to all of us, Harve, why do you want to go BACK? 'There's tools in the cave, he said, there's things in the cave that Shipfish can use to get the chains off.' Shipfish had a cozy little nest in the cave, not for Harve or the rest, no! They slept outside, in the rain. 'There's things in the cave that he stole from my family, my crew', Harve said. 'He has our nets, our hand-made fishing nets. He kept my father's logbooks, he has the We're Here's charts and maps.' Then he started to cry, but it wasn't a boy's tears, it was a man's tears of frustration. 'He even stole my dad's seaboots, tore them off his legs after he murdered my dad. They don't fit him, but he keeps them as a 'trophy', just like all the skulls of the people and dolphins' he murdered,' he said. He was furious at that. Trophies! The tools, the charts, the maps, captains' logs: that's how Shipfish was able to navigate between islands; it was how the managed to build a small boat from the wreckage of the ship."
K'ndar's eyes widened.
"I had to take him, K'ndar, and that's why I'm swearing you to secrecy. He had to go back and finish the job, protocol and Landing be shaffed," F'mart said, "HAD to. Non-negotiable."
K'ndar nodded. "I know NOTHING!" he swore.
"So we popped back to the island," F'mart started, but K'ndar interrupted him.
"So…he…walked to the cave? With Shipfish still there?" he said, shocked.
"Oh, no, K'ndar. Not even," F'mart said, stifling a conspiratory grin, "he didn't get off Kenth's back, there."
"What! You didn't land in the clearing! No way could Kenth land there, it was not enough room for Raventh, and he's far smaller than Kenth!" K'ndar protested.
F'mart's grin popped out.
"You're right. I didn't dare land Kenth in that clearing. But listen, K'ndar. We came out of between right over the same beach, next to the lagoon. We saw Shipfish, still in chains! wading in the lagoon, looking for the keys, I think."
K'ndar laughed. "He'll never find them, Siskin took them far out into the sea, not the lagoon."
"We know that. Let the bugger search. No, K'ndar, once we pinpointed where Shipfish was, the boys says, "land, please?" We landed near the tree line. Shipfish never thought to look behind himself.
Now, get this, K'ndar. Harve! This boy, K'ndar, he's got a plan. He's had four years? to formulate strategy and plan revenge. He told me his aunt said, watch for dragons. Always hope for dragons, they will help us. So he'd incorporated US into his plans. Or one of them…So the kid climbs down from Kenth and picks up eight, maybe ten coconuts. Stuffs them in his shirt. I thought, okay, this is strange, he's got a hankering for coconuts after them being just about the only thing he's eaten for four years? No.
He climbs back aboard-not easy with all those coconuts, and says, let's go to the clearing.
I tell him, Kenth is too big to land there and he says, I know that. What I want is for us to hover over the clearing, as low as it can be safely done, and I'll throw the coconuts into the mouth of the cave and, at the same time, Kenth flames them. That will start everything in the cave on fire, and will burn everything," F'mart said, his expression one of admiration.
"Whoa," K'ndar said, gawping at the ingenuity.
"K'ndar, it worked. Like a charm. Kenth had heard the boy's plan and said he could do it. We hovered low, by the stars, his claws were touching the treetops. It was scary, K'ndar-he's so big he hovers no better than a cow, but, K'ndar, Harve leans over just ahead of the wings, throws the coconuts like he was bowling, flit flit flit! and yells, hit them Kenth! Kenth hits them with a big tongue of flame and they're burning RIGHT NOW. They looked like fireballs! Most of them went straight as an arrow into the cave, burning, not like coals, burning with high flames, and the stuff in the cave catches fire right now. Two of the coconuts didn't make it into the cave, but, K'ndar, did you know bones burn? They landed next to the piles of bones under the pikes and whoosh, they go up, too! Within minutes, the entire clearing is burning with flames dragon high, so hot we had to rise up fast. Good thing hot air rises! The boy is shrieking with joy, and tears, Kenth is laughing, and I'm thinking, by the stars, what a weapon! Coconuts are firebombs!"
Raventh landed gently in the bowl of their weyr and shuffled to one side to allow Rastabenth, C'val's blue dragon room.
Once down, both riders unharnessed their dragons.
I'll be in the dragon pool, taking a bath Raventh said, I'm all dusty
Want me to come and scrub between your wings?
Not necessary. Most of the dust is on my face and front, anyway. Siskin does that better than you. He knows where a dragon itches. Besides, there's a lot of fire lizards there right now, he'll have help if he needs it. Besides, I know you want to bathe, too.
I do, then get something to eat. The sweep just seem timed so that we missed meal times every spot we went.
Raventh checked all around him, then leaped into the sky to fly to the dragon pool.
Rastabenth was right behind him.
K'ndar sighed. "I never get tired of seeing dragons fly off on their own," he said.
C'val pulled off his goggles and helmet. "It's impressive, isn't it? It's a wonder there's anyone on the planet who doesn't want to be a dragonrider," he said.
"I remember the first dragonriders I ever met..you and D'mitran! I was so awed…"
C'val laughed. "That was a memorable stop for us. Your father…"
"Was a bastard and now he's dead, and Pern and my family are all the better for it," K'ndar said.
He scratched his head. How did I get sand in my hair when I was wearing a helmet?
"I hadn't planned on getting this dirty," C'val said, "where in the world did that dust storm came from? It feels like I have the entire beach in my hair. I better go now, before Sinala gets home. She'll have a fit if I should walk into the weyr bringing half the desert with me."
"I thought she was out on Search?"
"She was, at least, she was scheduled for it, then Ops pulled her off for something else. We're so shorthanded, lately, I'm hoping that they're right and that Mirth does lay a clutch soon. It'll be a year before the resulting Weyrlings are up and fully trained for duty, but anything will help," he said.
He brushed sand off his riding jacket. "Thanks for the help, K'ndar. You make a good sweep partner," he said.
"Thank you. If you want, I'll report in to Ops for both of us. No need for two of us to do it," K'ndar said, "I have to do it anyway, this was F'mart's week for sweeps, but he's still at Landing, so I pulled his shift for him. I'm wondering if he's ever coming back!"
"Truth be told, judging from what Sinala's told me in the past about F'mart, I think I'd rather…well, that's gossip, nevermind." C'val said.
"No need, I know what you mean. He was a real pain in the arse, a bully and a mouthy one. But he's done a lot of changing, someone's been 'talking' to him. He's…well, he's three years younger than me, so I can sort of understand what he's going through."
C'val looked doubtful. "I believe you, but still…you're a good rider and a good man to have as my wingman, K'ndar. I'll take you up on your offer to do the reporting, thank you very much!
This way, I can get my shower in and have dinner started when Sinala comes in. This way, even if I leave some sand, she might not notice," he said, laughing. He rolled his harness up and over his shoulder, and headed for his weyr.
K'ndar reflected on how happy C'val looked, now that he was partnered with Sinala, who'd been his classmate. He was going to ask him what to do, if anything? about the discord between his friends Lindea and Risal. No, wait. It's all emanating from that one encounter and all from Lindea. What in the world? Maybe I should talk to a woman. Siena, his Weyrwoman? No. She's busy as a one legged man in an asskicking contest. Maybe Hariko? Well, maybe, but Hariko would insist he was skin and bones and eat, lad, eat! No. Mum? Oh, NO, not Mum. Love her I do, but …no, I don't want to discuss this with Mum. She'd be saying something like, "how many grandchildren can I expect?" I ..don't want kids, I know. I don't know who to talk to, really, or if I should even try. Most men, when asked how to deal with 'women', just roll their eyes and say the same thing: "beats me".
The watch dragon called out to an airborne dragon, angling in for a landing.
K'ndar made his way to the walls of the bowl, to clear the way. The incoming dragon was a big one, even for a bronze. It had to be Kenth, with F'mart.
"Incoming!" he heard F'mart shout.
"Clear!" K'ndar called, rushing to stand against the bowl's wall. If only the ancients, the ones who'd carved the bowl out of rock, had realized how big dragons would eventually be. This one was barely large enough to hold a pair of dragons. A gold and a bronze together would be too risky, given how large they are. The Weyrling training bowl was much, much larger, but farther from Ops, and on the other side of the cliff.
Kenth landed with a mighty swoosh of backwinging. In the relatively confined bowl, he looked enormous. Sand blew up from the backwash of his wings. Someone had neglected to sweep the bowl's floor.
F'mart climbed down, then turned to unbuckle his passenger.
Wonder who that is, he thought. The passenger gingerly climbed down and then turned and patting Kenth's forearm, said "Thank you, Kenth."
F'mart reached under the bronze's belly to unbuckle the harness. Once it was loose, he pulled it over the dragon's back. Kenth shook himself to help it off. F'mart pulled it away. It seemed like a kilometer's worth of leather straps. Yet another reason I'm happy to have a brown 'on the small side', he reflected.
"Back off, Kenth's going to launch," he said to the passenger.
"Raventh's already at the pool,"K'ndar called, knowing a dragon wanting a bath when he saw one. Kenth leaped, his wings already grabbing air to lift him over the weyr to the dragon pool beyond. A large cloud of dust blew over K'ndar.
"Someone needs to sweep this bowl!" he said, irritated.
"I'll do it," said the passenger.
F'mart grinned. "No doubt! We're always willing to have a volunteer," he said.
Suddenly K'ndar recognized the passenger.
"By the egg, it's Harve! Look at you!" he cried in astonishment.
The boy straightened up. "Hello, K'ndar," he said.
"You aren't the same boy from three weeks ago, look at you!" he said, amazed at the change.
The boy stood taller than he'd remembered. He looked far happier and in better shape than a few weeks ago.
F'mart chuckled. "He's put on kilos, got a good bath, a proper haircut and clothes."
"And physical therapy, K'ndar, Marl …look what Marl did for me." The boy walked in a straight line away from them, did a turn and came back. He still walked stiffly, as if his back hurt, but he was taking full strides and his legs were tracking straight and true.
F'mart couldn't keep from grinning.
"It was you who did it, Harve, don't dismiss yourself. You've worked your arse off. Marl had to make you stop and let your body recover, remember?"
Harve nodded. "But I don't WANT to stop. Not until I can run."
K'ndar said, "Did it hurt you to ride Kenth astride, this time?"
Harve shrugged. "Yes, but not so bad. Not as bad as the first time, I forced my legs wide to ride Kenth. That hurt! Now I know EVERYONE has to..he's BIG," the boy said, enamored with F'mart's dragon. "How did you know it hurt?"
"Raventh told me," K'ndar said. "Dragons don't keep secrets. They gossip," he said, laughing. Then he sobered. "But even so, Harve, it's wonderful to see you. You look fit and healthy!"
Harve smiled shyly. "That first bath!I scrubbed and scrubbed. The water had to be changed three times. I had no skin left when I finally felt clean enough. I think I'll bathe every day for the rest of my life."
"Been into Ops, yet, K'ndar?" F'mart asked. His eyes said he wanted to discuss something out of Harve's hearing.
"Not yet. I pulled your sweep duty, you were scheduled for it this week," K'ndar said.
"Thanks," F'mart said, "I am sorry I wasn't back earlier to pull it, but,"
"He was helping me, K'ndar. Especially with the physical therapy! I'm better now!" Harve said.
K'ndar raised a hand. "That's fine with me, Harve. You chose well, with F'mart," he turned to F'mart and added, "not to worry, you'll pay me back someday. For now, though, let's go report into Ops."
"Harve, do you mind waiting for us here? Flight Ops is a small office, and I bet there's not much room in it for all of us," he said.
"I don't mind. I just want to look around. And get something to eat," he said.
F'mart laughed. "This won't take long, I promise. Then we'll go get some dinner, and I'll have Hariko..she's our headwoman, find a bunk for you. Now remember, when you hear the watchdragon, see the green up there? When her rider calls out "incoming" or something like that, make room, like K'ndar there, stand against the wall or duck into that alcove, because a dragon is coming into land. You can call "clear!" when you are, if you want. It's exciting to see dragons coming in, I know I never get tired of it," F'mart said.
"Okay,"Harve said, "I'll be right here." He pressed his back against the wall and scanned the sky for dragons.
F'mart collected K'ndar with his eyes and they headed for Flight Ops.
As soon as they were out of sight of the boy, F'mart said, "Surprised you, didn't he?"
"I'll say! I didn't recognize him!"
"He's worked and worked, K'ndar, I've never seen a boy so determined to walk, to learn, to be normal. The first few days, he could only eat little meals. His stomach was shrunken, and Marl said he could only handle simple, 'easily digested foods, a bland diet," for a month. The lad wouldn't hear it, though. Second or third day, he started feeding like a starved dragon. You could almost watch him inflate, like a dried sponge sucking up water. He's lucky, Marl said, despite the wounds on his legs, he's young enough that his bones are still pliable enough that he'll eventually be as close to normal as he can be, as long as he keeps doing the exercises."
F'mart pulled him aside.
"The first two nights, he didn't want to be alone. He had nightmares every night for a couple weeks. He was afraid, K'ndar, afraid it was all a dream and he'd wake up and still be on that shitspeck of an island. He didn't trust anyone, except me. And Kenth. He adores Kenth.
They have a 'counselor' there, at Landing, not Marl. She's an older woman, she just wanted to 'talk' with Harve. He resisted, but I told him he needed to talk things out. He wanted Kenth to be with them. Not ME! So they did the counseling in the dragon meadow. Imagine that! Kenth told me what he said, of course, but…he got a lot of comfort from Kenth.
They had a session every single day, sometimes he'd come back all tear streaked, but what she told me was that she was walking him through the process of overcoming the emotional trauma. He's a strong willed lad, K'ndar, she said that he is going to be alright. She said once the dreams stopped, he be on the road to recovery. She was right, she's very good. The dreams stopped about ten days ago, he said.
He's gone through some rough times, K'ndar. Shipfish and his mates, before he killed them, managed to kill off his family, the ones that survived the shipwreck. His dad, the captain. His Mum's sister, the woman in the cave, was the ship's cook. His older sister, who was first mate, and two members of the crew. And Harve. That's all that survived the wreck. K'ndar, this kid, he's-Kenth says he's 'unusual, that there is a greatness about him."
"Meaning, how?"
"I don't know, K'ndar, but I can see it. You know, of course, that the island's been put off limits for all of Pern, yes?"
"Yes. Not only that, I told the dolphins about Shipfish killing them, and gave them the necklace, to take to Tillek."
F'mart's eyebrows rose. "How did they take that?"
"It was intense. They were shocked. I didn't tell them about the clearing with the skulls, I didn't think they'd need that burden. They thanked me. They thanked us-the team."
F'mart looked left and right, to make sure no one was listening.
"K'ndar..this is for us only to know this, okay?"
Surprised-for F'mart had never been surreptitious, K'ndar nodded mutely.
"The island is off limits. But Harve begged me to take him back there, one last time. I had to, K'ndar, the look in his eyes, the urgency in his voice…there was something, one last thing he had to do, before letting it all go," F'mart said. "So, don't say you know anything about what I'm about to relate. If anyone finds out, I'll take the heat. But I have to share this with you, it's…it's incredible. And fun!"
K'ndar listened, entranced.
"Harve, K'ndar, he's smart. He's keen as a razor. We're walking to the dragon meadow to come here. Harve mentioned, all casual like, if dragons could flame just anytime, whenever they want? I said no, we have to feed them firestone. He went flat, and I remembered how he was shouting for joy when we fired the wreck.
You know what thrill it is! I thought, he wants to see the dragon flame. I had a few stones left, fed them to Kenth. I figured we get out to somewhere and just let him flame. But no, Harve.
Once we were airborne, he asked- no, DEMANDED we go back to the clearing. It's off limits, I said, to all of us, Harve, why do you want to go BACK? 'There's tools in the cave, he said, there's things in the cave that Shipfish can use to get the chains off.' Shipfish had a cozy little nest in the cave, not for Harve or the rest, no! They slept outside, in the rain. 'There's things in the cave that he stole from my family, my crew', Harve said. 'He has our nets, our hand-made fishing nets. He kept my father's logbooks, he has the We're Here's charts and maps.' Then he started to cry, but it wasn't a boy's tears, it was a man's tears of frustration. 'He even stole my dad's seaboots, tore them off his legs after he murdered my dad. They don't fit him, but he keeps them as a 'trophy', just like all the skulls of the people and dolphins' he murdered,' he said. He was furious at that. Trophies! The tools, the charts, the maps, captains' logs: that's how Shipfish was able to navigate between islands; it was how the managed to build a small boat from the wreckage of the ship."
K'ndar's eyes widened.
"I had to take him, K'ndar, and that's why I'm swearing you to secrecy. He had to go back and finish the job, protocol and Landing be shaffed," F'mart said, "HAD to. Non-negotiable."
K'ndar nodded. "I know NOTHING!" he swore.
"So we popped back to the island," F'mart started, but K'ndar interrupted him.
"So…he…walked to the cave? With Shipfish still there?" he said, shocked.
"Oh, no, K'ndar. Not even," F'mart said, stifling a conspiratory grin, "he didn't get off Kenth's back, there."
"What! You didn't land in the clearing! No way could Kenth land there, it was not enough room for Raventh, and he's far smaller than Kenth!" K'ndar protested.
F'mart's grin popped out.
"You're right. I didn't dare land Kenth in that clearing. But listen, K'ndar. We came out of between right over the same beach, next to the lagoon. We saw Shipfish, still in chains! wading in the lagoon, looking for the keys, I think."
K'ndar laughed. "He'll never find them, Siskin took them far out into the sea, not the lagoon."
"We know that. Let the bugger search. No, K'ndar, once we pinpointed where Shipfish was, the boys says, "land, please?" We landed near the tree line. Shipfish never thought to look behind himself.
Now, get this, K'ndar. Harve! This boy, K'ndar, he's got a plan. He's had four years? to formulate strategy and plan revenge. He told me his aunt said, watch for dragons. Always hope for dragons, they will help us. So he'd incorporated US into his plans. Or one of them…So the kid climbs down from Kenth and picks up eight, maybe ten coconuts. Stuffs them in his shirt. I thought, okay, this is strange, he's got a hankering for coconuts after them being just about the only thing he's eaten for four years? No.
He climbs back aboard-not easy with all those coconuts, and says, let's go to the clearing.
I tell him, Kenth is too big to land there and he says, I know that. What I want is for us to hover over the clearing, as low as it can be safely done, and I'll throw the coconuts into the mouth of the cave and, at the same time, Kenth flames them. That will start everything in the cave on fire, and will burn everything," F'mart said, his expression one of admiration.
"Whoa," K'ndar said, gawping at the ingenuity.
"K'ndar, it worked. Like a charm. Kenth had heard the boy's plan and said he could do it. We hovered low, by the stars, his claws were touching the treetops. It was scary, K'ndar-he's so big he hovers no better than a cow, but, K'ndar, Harve leans over just ahead of the wings, throws the coconuts like he was bowling, flit flit flit! and yells, hit them Kenth! Kenth hits them with a big tongue of flame and they're burning RIGHT NOW. They looked like fireballs! Most of them went straight as an arrow into the cave, burning, not like coals, burning with high flames, and the stuff in the cave catches fire right now. Two of the coconuts didn't make it into the cave, but, K'ndar, did you know bones burn? They landed next to the piles of bones under the pikes and whoosh, they go up, too! Within minutes, the entire clearing is burning with flames dragon high, so hot we had to rise up fast. Good thing hot air rises! The boy is shrieking with joy, and tears, Kenth is laughing, and I'm thinking, by the stars, what a weapon! Coconuts are firebombs!"
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