Chap. 203 The Offer

Chap.203 The Offer

"That rain cooled everything down nicely," Fland said.

He, Sandriss and K'ndar had ridden back to the burnt out wagon to retrieve the metal parts and the branding iron.

"This axle-it's well made. I don't know if it can be used for a wagon again, but the metal, surely, can be melted down and re-cast," Fland said.

"Did you ever do that?" K'ndar asked. He wished he'd brought something to wipe his hands on, the wet ashes stuck to anything it came in contact with. He was loathe to wear his riding gloves while handling this stuff.

"Before I was Searched, yes. My grandfather was a metalsmith and was intent on my taking up the trade. I wasn't interested, then or now, but I did learn a lot about metalsmithing," he said.

"Hanliss, too?"

Fland laughed, a bit bitterly.

"Ah, Hanliss. Even as a kid my brother was trouble. He'd mess with things in my grandfather's crafthall-poke holes in the bellows, tip over the quenching buckets-for no reason I could ever discover. Dad had to take a strop to him on more than one occasion, not that it did any good," he said.

"But not you?"

Fland laughed, cheerfully this time.

"Didn't take me but one 'dance with the Leather Mistress" to learn to stay out of trouble," he said. "Not that Hanliss didn't deserve it, he earned every stroke. But sometimes, when I tired of his bullying, I would, let's say, maneuver it to where he'd get the punishment. He wasn't too bright. Or maybe he just didn't care. Hanliss seemed to enjoy purposely doing things to piss off the old man. Dad kept an eye on us boys, mostly due to Hanliss. "Got eyes in the back of me head, boyo," he'd say, and for the longest time, I'd be looking for them under his hair!"

Sandriss and K'ndar both laughed. Their grandfather had died before K'ndar was born.

"This stuff is a mess," Sandriss said. He flicked wet ash from his hands. By using what was left of the spokes, he was able to gingerly work the hubs out of the mass of wet ash. "Glad it burnt right through the yoke, otherwise I don't think we'd ever get it out. By the egg, this was good wood and excellent workmanship. Look at these spokes!! Some wheelwright knew his stuff."

The sound of harnessed horses drew their attention.

Lizard halted his team a ways from the burnt wagon. He dismounted and put a heavy stone in front of the horses. Each horse had a lead rope attached to the headstall and he tied them both to the stone.

The three were puzzled by his actions.

"Aye, I know, these horses are well trained, but until I know I can trust them to not run off, better safe than sorry," the trader explained.

His dog, Crunch, jumped out of the wagon and, tail awag, began running around the site, extremely interested in the bones.

Sandriss dragged the hub out of the wet wood ash. Lizard ran his hand along one of the remaining spoke's length, thinking.

"I heard what you said. This IS good workmanship, if I were a betting man, I'd say it was done up north. Not sure who might have done it. This was a good wagon, stout all round. If we can get those hubs and the axle cleaned up enough, put 'em in my wagon, I've made room, and I'll take 'em back to Singing Waters Hold. The branding iron, though,...I think, K'ndar, you might want to take it back to Lord Dorn today. I'm sure he's itching to find out who made it," the trader said.

"Wait a minute. You think the wagon's from up north?" Fland said.

"Aye. I'm not certain, but this spoke, see the grain? It's made from sky-broom. That's tough wood, hard as iron and just as hard to work. We don't have much sky-broom here on Southern, certainly not enough to use for wheels," Lizard said.

"But Lord Dorn...didn't he say he was missing a wagon? And a team?" K'ndar said.

"He did say that," Sandriss said.

"And he mentioned that the thieves had to have had horses. He's right, you don't ride oxen and these fools, I'm betting, didn't walk beside the wagon. I bet they drove those oxen hard. SOMEONE had to have been with them," Fland said.

"Was there more than one wagon stolen? Were these thieves just part of a bigger group?"

Mardriss rode up on horseback.

"Whew," he said, scanning the skeletons of the livestock, "the scavengers didn't leave much, did they?"

The oxen and horses had been reduced to bones. Crunch, the dog, now filthy with wet ash, had found one to gnaw on.

K'ndar nodded his head. "I've seen it before. Even if it's just wherries, after a dragon kills and eats, the scavengers are right in on what's left," he said.

"By the way," Mardriss said, "the oxen I was missing? They were waiting outside the far gate this morning, wanting breakfast. Not a hair touched on them," he said, obviously relieved.

Lizard rummaged around in the tool box on the side of his wagon and withdrew a small hand broom. "Here, Sand, bring those hubs and the axle here and I'll clean the ash off of them. Enough, I guess, to get them back to the cothold and wash them off. K'ndar, if it's cooled off, bring me the branding iron. I'm not eager to put these things in my nice clean wagon with all this muck on them," he said.

Crunch came running up, his legs and belly coated with ash. He made to leap in the wagon. Lizard pushed him aside in mid-leap, sending the dog into a heap. Crunch jumped to his feet, laughing, taking it all as a very funny game

"That includes YOU, doggy!!

______________________________________________________________________

After extended handshakes and goodbye's, with hugs from his mother and in-laws, and saddle bags bursting with food (Daryat apparently thinking they would starve in the few seconds of 'between'); after seeing Lizard's wagon head west, K'ndar was glad to finally buckle his sister securely aboard Raventh. Siskin chirped his readiness.

"Take care, my loves," Daryat said, her hand on Raventh's foreleg. "Tell Hariko thank you so much for the chicks."

"I will, Mum. I love you," K'ndar said, Glyena echoing.

At the last moment, he decided to go to their Weyr, rather than right to Singing Waters Hold.

_________________________________________________________________________

M'rvin turned the branding iron over and over.

"Harlan would love to look at this. Let's take this down to his shop, before you go to the Hold."

Harlan, Nyala's weyrmate, was someone K'ndar had learned to be exceptionately respectful of. The man had muscles hard as the metal he worked.

"Yes, sir." He made to leave, but M'rvin stopped in mid-stride.

"I'm glad you came to me first, K'ndar. Not that I'd have had any problem with you going to Lord Dorn immediately, but..protocol, you know," his Weyrleader said.

K'ndar nodded, silently thanking B'rant, the Weyrlingmaster, for drilling protocol into his head. You didn't want to jump the chain of command, even in situations such as this. He hadn't thought of it, it just came instinctively.

"I would have anyway, sir. You're my Weyrleader." he said. M'rvin nodded in thanks.

"I was thinking, sir, that if there are thieves hitting tiny cotholds, like my family's, they would probably go for our herds, small as they are."

M'rvin looked through him, thinking. "That's something to consider, K'ndar. It's taken some time to start building them up. Now that Weyrs are expected to support themselves, I'm glad to have people like Nyala, for instance, someone who knows more about beasts than I do about dragons," he said. "Not to mention you, K'ndar, and your sister-both of you are good herdsmen."

K'ndar's eyebrows arched, surprised that his weyrleader had even noticed.

"Don't think I've not seen your sister ride! She thinks like a horse, and I have no doubt whatsoever that you do, too. If you've not decided on a profession yet, I'd be glad to have you here as both a dragonrider as well as a herdsman. Nyala can always use good hands. One day, too, she'll be wanting to retire, and by then, perhaps your sister will be old enough to take her place. Of course, I can't speak for her, but I can put it to you. Do you want a job as a herdsman?" M'rvin said.

K'ndar gawped for a moment, afraid he was imagining this.

"What? Not interested?" M'rvin said.

K'ndar's mind was a whirl. He finally found his voice. It was heavy with relief...and astonishment.

He laughed. "No sir. No! Not at all! I've been wondering, pounding my brain, wondering what to do with myself as a second career. I've worried! I'm a biologist, yes, but that doesn't...doesn't bring in money, does it! Managing herd beasts, no problem! Horses, sir, especially, sir, I've loved them, ridden them since before I could walk, but I didn't think it would actually translate into 'meaningful employment'!'

M'rvin feigned slapping K'ndar's forehead. "Duh, K'ndar? Really? C'val still can't stop talking about how he saw you rope a herd bull at a flat out gallop. That's experience you can't buy. I'm serious, K'ndar. Having you as a herdsman as well as a dragonrider gives me two experts for the price of one," he said, amused at the brown rider's reaction. He could see K'ndar processing it with growing happiness.

You're a good egg, K'ndar, no way am I going to let you leave. I've lost too many already, he thought.

Raventh is, too. He's a solid dragon. He's welcome on my wing,anytime Arcturuth, his bronze dragon chimed in.

After several moments, M'rvin said, "Well, K'ndar, do you want to sleep on it before you decide?"

K'ndar awoke from his reverie. Decide? What's to decide?

"No sir! Done! I'll take it!"