Chap. 204 Ruminating

Chap. 204 Ruminating

You are keeping me awake with your thoughts. They are like rain in the wind, all over, everywhere falling, Raventh said, petulantly.

Sorry. I can't sleep, K'ndar said, sheepishly.

I want to. You are making noises in my head. Even Siskin is unhappy. Go talk to the big human who works at night. He always helps you.

Oscoral?

Yes.

Oscoral, the night baker, had grown accustomed to people coming in the middle of his night shift to seek his advice.

I didn't sign up for this, he would often think, when someone needed his help sorting out the issues they were faced with. I'm just a miner who now bakes bread instead of breaking rocks.

But when a young Weyrling would come to him, despite knowing he'd be punished for breaking curfew, his heart would soften. He'd tell one of the drudges to keep an eye on his ovens, remove his flour dusted apron, and sit down across the supplicant.

"Hello, K'ndar, it's been a while since I've seen you," he said.

K'ndar had come in, poured a mug of klah for himself, and sat at one of the lengthy tables to wait for Oscoral.

"Aye, sir, it has been," he said, "I've been very busy. But it's been fun."

"No need, now, to fear breaking curfew, what? You've developed quite a name for yourself, dragonrider," the man said.

K'ndar rolled his eyes. Oscoral knew immediately K'ndar wasn't here with a broken heart.

"I'd forgotten about that, sir! It was a shock to me, no doubt, but I have to tell you, your help that night, so long ago! was worth every bit of the two weeks of latrine cleaning," he said.

Oscoral nodded, smiling, and sat down with his mug. K'ndar couldn't get over how big the man was. The mug was tiny in the man's giant paw. Even sitting down, he looked the size of a mountain.

"I bet I'm not the only kid who comes looking for your advice," he said.

"Not even, K'ndar. And not just kids. I have grown men come to talk to me. Like yourself.You're a man, now, K'ndar, and a good one."

K'ndar flushed.

"Women? Girls? Do they seek your advice?"

"Sometimes. Not often. The Weyrling girls go to the Weyrwoman, except when it was Jenmay. No one wanted a thing to do with her. She'd come prowling around here at all hours of the night, looking for people to abuse. Somehow, though, she never tried that on me," he said, laughing.

"No doubt! I can't imagine anyone trying to abuse you," K'ndar said.

"The women go to Hariko. But when the girls, be it weyrkids or weyrlings come to me, it's always a problem with a boy. Good grief! The days after that young fisherboy, Harve? left, I had half the girls in the weyr wanting to talk. Heartbroken, they were, I don't know what it was about that lad, but he had every teenage girl in the weyr panting after him," Oscoral said.

"My sister was one of them," K'ndar said, ruefully, "It sort of scared me." He sipped the klah. It was perfectly brewed. "If you have the time, then, I don't have a problem with females, I do have a problem with a decision I made. Today."

Oscoral tilted his head, intrigued.

"Proceed."

"Briefly-or maybe not, it's been worrying me for months. I've been enjoying being a fully fledged dragon rider. If I'm not on the duty roster or on an expedition, I've been 'nomading', going out on my dragon, looking at the world, without a plan, just a desire to see what's over the horizon. Sometimes I just close my eyes, poke a finger at a map and where ever it lands, that's where I go.

I love it, sir, I do. I've never had such freedom and the ability to go anywhere on the planet, long as I have the dragonstones or cairns in my head. But I've also wondered just what to do with myself when I'm not being a dragonrider.

I see my classmates settling down with jobs, or partners, developing interests. Doing things that benefit others, like B'rost, up in Healer Hall learning to be a healer. Or F'mart, apprenticing with D'nis as an engineer. Or Rondair and the other gold riders from my Weyrling class, one's at Honshu, another is..um, I don't remember where, practising and taking on the jobs of Weyrwoman before they actually become one. Me, I've looked at several crafts and none of them attract me. I don't want to be a healer, or a woodworker, or, forgive me, a baker," he said.

Oscoral shrugged. "Don't knock it. It beats nibbling away at the innards of a mountain, and the pay is better," he said,

K'ndar grinned. "And the food is right there," he said.

Oscoral laughed. He patted his rather ample stomach. "Aye, there's the problem, telling one's stomach that it's had enough. I have a dragon tum, I do," he said.

K'ndar struggled with how to open the problem. Oscoral beat him to the punch.

"And now, you are seeing that you love nomading and yet are bothered by the concept of having a responsibility to the Weyr, indeed, to everyone, to get a job. Especially now, when there's no thread for you to fight, you wonder, am I a lazy lout, interested only in satisfying myself at the expense of the world?"

K'ndar was awestruck.

"This...sir, this is why I talk to you. Because you cut through all the fog in my mind, sometimes I can't even describe what it is, and you've nailed it. Yes. I don't want to be a parasite. A um, what did the Ancients call it, a 'deadbeat'? Whatever that means," he said.

"You're not a deadbeat, nor lazy, K'ndar. I know the feeling, you're old enough to be allowed to do what you want, and young enough and unencumbered to enjoy it. Despite it not being quite, um, orthodox, still, you've contributed a LOT to the weyr. Look at the datalinks, the camera? My granddaughter goes to the library all the time, using the datalink, reading every book she can find. She's reading at a level far above what was normal when I was her age. The other day she said to me, "Grampa, look, the moons are at perigee." Perigee? I had to have this little girl explain it me! This tot, knowing astronomy? I can lay that at your feet, K'ndar. Those first books were yours, K'ndar. The library exists because of your actions," he said. "Now, there's a steady stream of books coming from Landing, because of you."

K'ndar flushed, unused to accolades, especially from someone he regarded as his better.

"Thank you, but it's only because I want to learn," he said.

"The kids are the same. They're deriving goodness from your generosity," he said. He pulled at his mug.

"But, that's the past, eh? So, let me guess, the Weyrleader asked you what you might want to do as a job, correct? And you didn't know. But you felt pressured, so you agreed to a job that you realize now, you're not going to like?"

K'ndar nodded. "Not pressured. Not at all. In fact, I like the job, as a herdsman. It's something I grew up doing, it's in my DNA. It's easy for me, and I said yes, right away. Because all this time I've looked at people like you, or the metalsmiths, or the cooks, and thought, they're working gainfully, they like their job, and me, I can't contemplate doing that sort of work. It never occurred to me that someone might want me for work I already know how to do," he said.

"And you have a problem with that?"

"No! I mean, yes!"

??

"Is it fair that I take on a job that I don't have to learn how to do?"

"What an odd thing to ask," Oscoral said. "Do you think you should start at the very beginning, as if it would make work more like...Work?"

"Ummmmmmmmmmmmm," K'ndar said, stumped.

"Does it make you think you've taken a shortcut, and everyone else has to run the long way around the track?"

"Well, yes. Sort of. It's...well, look at you. You grew up mining. You could probably excavate an entire mountain while I'm still trying to figure out which end of the hammer goes 'bonk'."

Oscoral grinned.

"And then you came here and decided to become a baker. Did you have to learn from the word go? Did it take you a long time? No matter, you're the best baker on Pern and it's because you worked hard at learning how to do it," K'ndar said, floundering, trying to say it all and the words coming out rough. "Did you just...settle?"

The big man thought for a few moments. He sighed.

"I hadn't planned on being a baker, I'll admit, and it took me some time. But I had a good teacher and honestly, anything was better than digging in a mine," Oscoral said.

"Did you WANT to be a baker?"

"That's not the point. Do you WANT to be a herdsman?"

He hated being answered with a question,but his mind had been tormenting him for weeks with the exact same tactic. When it keeps Raventh awake, it's time to settle the issue for good, he thought.

"Yes. It's...well, the other part of it is a 'no'. I don't want to give up nomading. I don't want to leave this Weyr, but I want to continue exploring, on my own. It's nice to have a place to come home to, get a good meal and a hot shower, have a safe place for my notebooks, a place to read my books, that sort of thing," he said. "I'm of two minds. One, I know that I should have a job, but two, I don't want to give up the free time to do what I want," he said.

"And you think that having to do herdsman work when you're not actually dragonworking, means you won't have time to do nomading. You resent that. You don't want to forego your freedom to do what you want to do when you want to do it. But you don't want to be thought of as a parasite, a lazy lout."

K'ndar gawped. Then shut his mouth with a clap.

"By the egg, yes. How do you do that? Reach into my brain and pull the problem out?"

Oscoral smiled.

"K'ndar, I don't have to. All the answers are inside you. It's just, sometimes it's hard to make them come out. You don't want to face them, or you don't understand why they are the way they are, or you are so confused nothing makes sense. It's like being lost in a mine, all I do is try and light the pathway out for you."

K'ndar sighed.

"So, let me help. You're grown,now. Treated as an adult, with all the benefits that comes with it. But you remember how much fun it was to be a child, to be able to, as you horsemen say, "run without heel ropes."

Children DO have a job, that of growing up, of learning to negotiate society. They have the freedom to be children. Things are provided them: food, clothing, cover from the elements, education. They aren't expected to pay for it. The adults in their world provide all those things. Adults provide, children consume.

Adults consume, too. You're consuming the things the Weyr gives you: food, a place to live, an education, in your case, riding a dragon, which the Weyr allowed you to impress.

Adults are expected to pay for these things. In virtually everyone's case, the way we pay is through our labor. Flour doesn't form itself into loaves and lump it's way into the oven. Someone has to grow, harvest, thresh and grind the grain, then bake it. It's what adults do.

You aren't a kid anymore, K'ndar, and so it is your duty, if we can call it that, to provide a service. Being a herdsman is a service, and just because it's easy for you doesn't make it any less a valued one. We need herdsman just as much as we need a fisherman, or a metalsmith, or a bootmaker. I know a baker like me would be useless in the barn, and I bet if I were to ask you to make a dozen loaves of bread in time for breakfast, you'd be stuck," Oscoral said.

K'ndar chuckled. "Well, my mum taught me to bake bread a very long time ago, but I doubt I'd ever be able to make twelve in time for breakfast. So, you're right, I wouldn't be able to do it."

Oscoral shifted. "You asked me if I wanted to be a baker? At first, no. I didn't want to be anything but out of the mines, forever. After the mountain tried to kill me, I wasn't about to give it a second chance. So I sat around home, doing nothing. I was shiftless, lazing around the cavern, until a wise woman-my mum-kicked me in the arse and said ''If you aren't going to dig, get out. Go make yourself useful, otherwise, you're not going to be fed."

"I don't think I'd tackle a woman who could kick you in the arse," K'ndar said.

Oscoral laughed. "Little she may have been, but only in size. No one crossed her without suffering the consequences," he said, unabashed awe in his voice.

He reminisced about his mother for a few moments, then dragged his attention back to K'ndar.

"So I did a little nomading myself. Made my way west from the mines, up north. I drifted around, like a Wanderer, but not as smart. I tried different things, forestry, barrelmaking for the wine lords, met lots of folks, but mostly spent many a night outside, sometimes not having a thing to eat. I fought life, just as I fought the mountain, and just like the mountain, life said, play by my rules or die. The one thing I refused to do was go back to mining.

So, about that time, Southern opened up, and I took a slot aboard a ship to pay my way, learning, by the way, that I wasn't a seaman. Put into Southern Hold, where I was paid off. The Captain paid me despite my not being much more than useless, and said, don't bother coming back. The pay lasted about as long as it took for a thief to pick my dumbarse pocket. So I walked for days, not sure where I was going. I'd gone more than I like to remember without much to eat when I fetched up here. I literally came begging for something to eat, said I'd do anything. I was pointed to this dining cavern, where I met the master baker.

Whoa, that woman had a way with dough! She was like my mum, no nonsense but truly dragonhearted. She offered me a job, but first, asked me, "Miner, before I give you a thing, you have to tell me, what has all this nomading taught you?"

I had to think, it was hard because I was hungry. I realized that, rain or shine, people need to eat. No matter where you are in the world, there's always work for someone who can cook or bake. If I wanted a job, she said, I was going to start at the very bottom, like any drudge."

He patted his belly. "This tum here, it insisted I take the job. Did I like it? No. Not at first. I resented having to go out and work for a living. But then, I realized I could have a life in the sunlight, that baking didn't piss off a mountain, and that people appreciated what I did. "

K'ndar nodded without a word, as always, entranced by the stories of the big man's life.

"K'ndar. Do you think I do nothing but bake, day or night?"

"No, of course not."

"Correct. Once I'm off shift, which is usually 'bout midnight, I go home, sleep til about 7 or so, get up, help my wife around our quarters, and then I weave."

"You...weave? Like, tapestry?"

"Nay, not the pretty wall hangings, that's art," the man said, "I make useful stuff, things every weyr dweller needs. Rugs. Curtains. Blankets. Especially the latter, I don't like sleeping under a fur. Too many little crawlers come creeping in the night, wanting to sleep in them, too, and I think a fur should be left on the animal that grew it. No, my weaving is for fun as well as a service to the community. It's a hobby. Just like baking, I learned from the ground up. I learned to shear a sheep and card the wool, I learned to harvest cotton, turn it into thread. From the ground up, K'ndar, unlike you, who was born on the back of a horse. Trust me. Being a herdsman won't take up all your time. You'll have plenty of time to nomad, until, of course, you start a family. Then you won't have a minute to yourself," he said.

K'ndar couldn't imagine this big man doing the teeny, tedious job of weaving. Nor did he think it useful to tell Oscoral he had no intention of having children. But he did see the man's point.

"Besides, as far as I know, we're so short of dragonriders that you will be doing that work for a very long time. You may never, actually, have to work as a herdsman, when your talents as a dragonrider are far more valuable."

He drained his mug. "Now, K'ndar, if you don't mind, I need to get back to MY work, otherwise, someone will be short his morning toast." He stood up.

K'ndar stood too, and shook Oscoral's hand.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you for clearing my mind. You've always been able to do that, I can't thank you enough for your advice. Do you know, my Raventh insisted I come talk to you," he said. "I was keeping him awake with my ruminating."

"I can't imagine trying to ignore a cranky dragon," Oscoral said.

"You can't. They have a very pointed way of making sure you know WHY they're cranky," K'ndar said, chuckling, "He's asleep, now."

Oscoral grinned as he picked up the two mugs.

"Thank you, sir, for your time and counsel," K'ndar said.

"Oscoral. It's Oscoral."

K'ndar couldn't bring himself to call the man he respected so much by his first name, but he obeyed.

"By the way, si..Oscoral. When YOU need counsel, who do YOU go to?"

Oscoral's laugh rumbled through the dining hall cavern.

"The wisest person I know. My wife."