Chap. 206 Philosophizing

Chap. 206 Philosophizing

As they climbed for altitude prior to going between, K'ndar realized he'd never flown this close to a gold dragon. Accustomed to the whuhwhuhwhuh of Raventh's beating wings as he searched for a thermal, K'ndar heard a deeper, baser note, almost a soft 'boom' from Mirth's enormous wings. Even with a couple of wing lengths between them, he was impressed, as always, at how big a gold dragon was. Mirth wasn't as big as the planet's primary queen, Ramoth, but she was almost twice Raventh's size.

The air was cooling as they climbed, making him glad for his riding jacket. His butt, though was warm, with his legs wrapped around Raventh's warm neck. It wasn't the same as riding a horse, yet it was in that he instinctively cued his dragon with his knees.

How is the weight? he asked. Raventh had two wagon hubs, made of iron, strapped one to each side. Each was separated from his skin by a stout piece of leather.

Not bad. Well balanced. I'm glad Mirth insisted on carrying the axles, when we brought them from the cothold, I had to be very careful to not get them tangled in my legs. I wouldn't want them hitting me on my sides, but on her they ride below. She says they weigh nothing but I know better. They're heavy.

K'ndar laughed in his mind. She is being brave. Like all dragons. No matter, we'll go between here in a bit.

Here it is. I was wondering if I'd miscalculated where the thermal was. Mirth has to work harder to soar, she is bigger than me.

A LOT.

Raventh laughed.

He leveled off and allowed his wings to slow, as the thermal carried them effortlessly skyward. K'ndar loved soaring, it seemed miraculous that they could stay airborne with just the slightest effort. Sometimes the updrafts were so strong that Raventh could completely stop flapping his wings.

Mirth continued flying, angling away from Raventh so as to not cut off the uprising warm air. Then, with an appreciative rumble, she found an especially strong updraft and eased her wing beats.

Far above them, K'ndar heard the shrill cries of soaring birds. He looked up and saw the raptors circling in the sunlight, enjoying the same thermals they were in. Someday, he thought, I'd like to take a closer look at them. The books have very little on them other than to say they're predators that are very shy of humans.

Next time I see them, he thought, I'll send Siskin up to meet them.

Siskin sent him a very strong feeling of denial.

Siskin? Afraid?

The blue turned to look at him from his perch on Raventh's withers. Clearly insulted, Siskin's eyes roiled orange.

No. He is not afraid of them Raventh said. He is being....

K'ndar felt Raventh rummaging around in his head, looking for the exact word. Even after all this time, it still felt odd. He could tell, too, when the brown dragon found what he was looking for.

...cautious. He is being careful. The raptors are smart and they have been known to attack flying fire lizards Raventh said.

Abashed, K'ndar reached out to stroke his indignant fire lizard's head.

"Sorry, Siskin!" he said.

The fire lizard looked him in the eye, then he felt a wave of what could only be forgiveness.

"Well, K'ndar, are you going to call 'between'?" Siena, his Weyrwoman, called, shattering his reverie.

"What? Me?" he called back, shocked. I'm just a brown rider, I don't give orders to the Weyrwoman!

"Yes, YOU. You're sweep leader."

His thoughts scattered.

"Uh...I'M sweep leader? Ma'am, you're my Weyrwoman, I can't give you...um, I can't tell you..uh..."

Siena laughed. From this angle he could see, how small she looked on the back of her queen dragon.

"K'ndar, YES, you're sweep leader. I've not only never led a sweep, I've never been ON a sweep. Being a gold rider makes it so that, yes, I'm Weyrwoman, but I'm also "too valuable" to be spending time sweeping. It's like being a bird in a cage. Sometimes it gets old. So, yes. Once we finish up with Lord Dorn, we're going on the sweep. And being that I am Weyrwoman and thus, outrank you, I'm saying, today, you're allowed to give me an order. As long as this first one takes us to Singing Waters. After that, I'm at your command."

He gulped. Sheesh, he hadn't bargained for this.

So...what are we waiting for? Although this is a fine day for flying Raventh said.

Look how graceful Mirth is now that she's soaring.

Okay.

"Yes, ma'am, but...okay," he called back, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

"Pretend you're D'mitran," she called, laughing.

Hearing his wingleader's name gave him courage. Pretend I'm D'mitran. Okay.

"Singing Waters coordinates in your mind?"

"Yes, Wingleader!" she called.

That thrilled him.

"On my mark, three, two, one, between!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Siena handed him another surprise. Once they'd turned over their cargo to Lord Dorn's men, K'ndar was fully prepared to rejoin the dragons in the meadow set aside for them to await his Weyrwoman.

But no. Siena turned to walk towards the Hold's main doors, then stopped and looked at him, expectantly.

"Well, K'ndar, coming?"

"Um...with you?"

"Of course, who else? Yes, you must accompany me. Lord Dorn specifically asked for you," she said.

Me? I'm just...K'ndar. I'm nobody.

"Uh...ma'am, he already knows we're bringing the wagon parts, there's no need for me to..."

Her eyebrows arched and he got the distinct impression that she was going to order him.

"K'ndar. Being a dragonrider entails more than just doing every day tasks such as sweeping or transporting. It never hurts to learn how to move amongst the...um, 'upper levels of Pern society'. Now come along, Lord Dorn is waiting," she said.

He'd never been in a Holder's home before. Like so many newer residences on Southern, Lord Dorn's had initially been built into the remains of a long extinct volcano, but, like their Weyr, also had wooden portions. Set on stone pilings, the Hold had a porch quite like the Harper Hall that had been built for Pern's Master Harper, Robinton. They were designed to allow the cool winds easy access during the warm, dry summers.

He was awed by the sumptuousness of the place. The main doors, opened for them by an elderly drudge, were of wood with intricate carvings. Inside, the walls bore lovely tapestries. K'ndar thought he recognized the handiwork of his friend, Terilyn. If so, he knew they were expensive, and Dorn had several. There was furniture as well as rock couches. A central fire pit gave off just enough heat to take the nip out of the air. High above, a multi bladed fan circled gently, powered by solar panels. It wafted away what little smoke was coming from the fire pit.

Lord Dorn approached them.

"Welcome, Weyrwoman Siena, and hello again, K'ndar! Thank you for coming." Lord Dorn said.

K'ndar was swept with a feeling of humility. He'd grown up with the knowledge that this man...and his father before him, had been the absolute master of the ground he'd walked on.

A cotholder lived on the Holder's approval, and banishment was always a possibility if one pissed the nobleman off. Even though Lord Dorn was known to be a fair and kindly man, he also was one who brooked no nonsense.

K'ndar remembered how close his father, who'd been cheating on Lord Dorn's rightful tithe, had brought the entire family to the brink of banishment.

Even though he was officially no longer under Lord Dorn's dominion, still, K'ndar could not help but feel submissive.

"My Lord, it is my pleasure" he said, bowing his head slightly. Siena caught his eye. It held approval.

A drudge approached them with a silver tray bearing finely made goblets.

"Won't you try my wine, Siena? K'ndar?"

K'ndar gulped. How to tell his secret? That he was allergic to alcohol? Did he even have the words for it? Did you snub a Lord Holder's generosity?

Something is wrong? Raventh asked.

Raventh, tell Mirth to tell Siena I cannot drink wine he said, hurriedly.

Raventh sent a silent acknowledgment.

Once again, I so appreciate being able to communicate without words, he thought.

Within seconds, Siena smiled. "My Lord, if you don't mind, K'ndar is my sweep leader and therefore, on duty. I'm sure you'll understand if he foregoes your wine?"

Lord Dorn nodded. "I understand. K'ndar, will klah do?"

He nodded, remembering just in time to respond verbally. "Thank you, my lord, klah would be perfect."

The drudge poured klah from a small carafe into a mug. K'ndar took it and sipped. "Thank you," he said to the boy.

Siena took one of the finely crafted goblets. "This is very fine workmanship, my Lord Dorn, where is it from?" she said, turning it to admire the work.

Lord Dorn smiled. "I've gained a glassmith recently. Apparently my river has 'perfect' sand for this sort of glass work," he said. He was obviously waiting for Siena to take a sip.

She did.

Her eyebrows rose in appreciation.

"By the egg, Lord Dorn, where is this wine from? It's very nice. Just the right blend of ...oh, I haven't the words! But it's not a Benden, nor a Tillek. It's...yours?"

Dorn laughed, genuinely happy at her reaction.

"Aye, it's mine. Several years ago, one of my cotholders was able to get vines from Tillek AND Benden. All legally, of course. Tillek and Benden both cull their vines from time to time, and rather than see them burned or allowed to die, she took them. She was working with her family up North, working at both Tillek and Benden. She grew up doing the grunt work of wine growing and making. She learned the trade from those masters. She said she'd spent days tending vines, and came up with the idea of crossing Tillek with Benden plants. She mentioned it to both wine masters. Can you believe it, neither one would even hear of it. They were more than happy to be rid of what they considered substandard stock," he said.

Siena laughed. "I don't doubt it all, my lord," she said, "but I don't consider this wine to be substandard."

"Nor do I. The woman is a genius. Bringing in new blood to the stock works for wine as well as horses!

When she petitioned me for a small cothold, wanting only to see if crossing the two lines would produce something drinkable, I was about to say no. I know nothing about winemaking. My wife has more brains than I, she insisted I 'give her a chance!!" I'm glad I listened to her!

It worked out quite nicely, the woman asked for a barren hillside that had never been suitable for grazing OR crops. It is sandy soil mixed with volcanic dust, but well watered. She put it to good use. She proved up on it by crossing those vines and tending to them like a mother hen tends to her chicks.

She couldn't really tithe for several years, but-that's how wine growing goes. If the wine was no good, we can still use vinegar, what? She was putting 'useless' land to good use. After several years, she finally got a harvest that would allow for casking. This is the from that first casking, and she's as good a vintner as she is a farmer. It's been in the cask for three years."

Siena couldn't help but smack her lips in appreciation.

"My Lord, I'll have to put in a request for at least a cask of this. It is VERY good," she said.

"That can be arranged, but not this year, I'm afraid. This was, you understand, an experiment," he said. "The harvest was quite small. It will take some time for the plants to grow," he said.

Siena nodded. "It came out very nice. You have a name for it?" she said.

Lord Dorn sipped his wine.

"I'm on the horns on that. "Dorn" just doesn't do it justice, nor does it have a ring. I'm open to suggestions," he said.

Siena nodded. "I have an idea, but it's...it's on the tip of my tongue, along with the wine, but I just can't make it come out!"

Dorn laughed. "Aye, I know the feeling," he said. He turned to K'ndar.

"I'm assuming you brought the branding iron?" he said.

"Yes, my Lord," K'ndar said, "When we landed, several of your men were waiting, one of them is, I believe, your metalsmith. He took possession of the iron as well as the axles and hubs from the wagon. By your leave, sir, Harlan, my Weyr's metalsmith, says they were not cast here on Southern. I thought you'd want them as well as the branding iron," he said.

Lord Dorn nodded. "Thank you. You're right, I did want all the parts that were still usable. We'll find out who made them, and where that wagon came from. Now, K'ndar, if you would excuse us, I do have some business with Weyrwoman Siena. If you're hungry, you're more than welcome to have something to eat in my dining hall. It's just down that hallway," Lord Dorn said.

"Thank you, sir, but I think I'll just head back out to the dragons," he said.

Making his way towards the dragons, K'ndar was quite happy at being released.

No matter how well trained he'd been in protocol, no matter that he was an emancipated dragon rider, and though he had no words for it, he still lived in a feudal society. He felt uncomfortable when dealing with the "upper levels" of Pern. Whenever he did, he always felt as if there was a sword hanging over his head, ready to drop at the slightest misstep in societal behavior.

I much prefer the company of ordinary folk, like Oscoral, or Linea, or Lizard, he thought. With people like them...like me! I don't have to always be careful with what I say or do. With Lord Holders, it's like walking on eggs. I'm always wondering if I say something they take offense at, will I lose my head? How is that some people on Pern live in such luxury and others have to make do with a hovel, one owned by someone else? How is it that one person, like Lord Dorn, can hold such power over another? How can a man own a river? Were the Ancients like this, one person higher ranking than another, being given power over another?

Somewhere back in his mind, his father's face arose. It was full of resentment and he was saying something, not fair? .....shards, it was gone.

He shook his head. I hate it when that happens, he thought. I don't miss Hanliss. Stay out of my head.

If I weren't a dragonrider, I'd still be nothing but the brother of a cotholder, a herdsman, bound to Lord Dorn. I'd have been like Mardriss, a grown man on his knees before Lord Dorn, begging forgiveness for the wrongs our father willingly committed. I'm lucky, he thought, lucky that I live in a Weyr, where everyone is the same. No one is 'better' than another, even when they outrank me. There are no smaller people there.

But there are Raventh said.

What?? K'ndar was surprised that Raventh had been listening, even though he listened always.

The humans you call drudges. They are smaller than you. You don't have to treat them like you treat Siena or M'rvin. Some humans treat drudges like they were beasts. You do not but it is because you are kind.

His dragon's insight was like a silent explosion. He was awestruck at his astuteness.

I didn't know you paid attention to that.

Of course I do. I'm in your head, aren't I?

And my heart. You have given me a big think to think K'ndar said, using Raventh's words for philosophizing.

Just don't do it when we go to sleep. Go talk to the big man when we get home.

K'ndar grinned in his mind.

 

Chap. 205 Unusual Partner

Chap. 205 Unusual partner

"Hello, the weyr, K'ndar, are you home?" Glyena, his sister's voice echoed in the interior tunnel.

"Come on in, sis!"

Entering his weyr, she passed him at his desk and made her way to Raventh's couch. Siskin, perched atop the brown dragon, chirped a welcome.

"Good day, Raventh, and you, Siskin," she said.

Raventh rumbled, gently.

"My," K'ndar said, "someone's been learning protocol," he said. He hugged the girl.

She smirked. "Shirae says the customs are changing but it's always good manners to be polite."

"She's right. Civility costs nothing," he said, pulling out the chair to his desk. She stood, instead, looking over his shelf of books. He felt a very odd feeling of possessiveness. A hangover from the days of the evil Jenmay, who'd have burnt the books in a moment? It's my sister, he thought, knock it off.

She took several down.

"Wow, K'ndar, so many books! Geology. Biology. Animals!!" she said, ruffling the pages of the top one.

"You're welcome to come and read them," he said. It was an effort. His books were the most valuable thing he owned. Where did this selfishness come from? he thought. She'd never hurt them.

"It's okay, K'ndar, I can go to the library, it has the very same books. You brought 'em, remember?"

"I know. Want to sit down?"

"No, I wanted to show you something," she said. She carefully replaced the books. "You need to dust that shelf", she said, absently, as she rummaged around in her pouch.

"Don't start on my housekeeping," he said, but she ignored him. She pulled out a data link.

"Is that the library's datalink?" he asked.

"No! I bought it. It's mine."

"You BOUGHT it?"

Wow, he thought, it's actually happening. The artifacts he'd found and insisted be copied and distributed to anyone who wanted one was actually happening.

Glyena smiled, hugging it tightly to her chest for a moment, then handing it to K'ndar.

"I did. I've been saving my money, from when I rode the racehorses at Ruatha? And I made bridles for Swiftsure? They paid me. Remember Lizard selling my leather work? Well, I've been saving it, I didn't know what for, because I have everything I need, but then Harper Rendel mentioned that he had this datalink, it had been re-fur-bished at Landing, it's one of the original copies, and that he now had several here in the library and did I know anyone who wanted to buy a used one? And I thought about it for like two seconds and said me me! and he said he didn't think I could afford it and I said, how much does it cost and he told me and I said I think I have that and so I ran back home and...."

"Glyena, stop!!" he said, knowing that once his sister got rolling she would talk the hind legs off a horse.

She stopped, giggling. "You're just like Shirae, she says I talk too much."

He tickled her ear. "Aye, you do, but it's okay. You're my little sis and I know how you are. So what is it you have to show me?"

"Turn on the datalink," she said. He was embarrassed to realize that, as often he'd seen others use one, he still wasn't sure how to work one. All those depressions to push!

"You'll have to show me how," he said.

She took it back. "See, you push here and hold it, and then, see, it wakes up and, oh, no signal? Oh, here it is. Now it's hooking up with the database at Landing, but that's not what I want to show you."

The screen lit up, showing a picture of Shirae, her foster mother, two girls, and a man in the background. "No, not yet, " she muttered. He wasn't surprised to see Jordan, their grey gelding.

"That's from other day, it's not what I want to show you. Here," and she flicked her fingers rapidly, the pictures passing under them too quickly to appreciate. "No, no, no, here, this is from Mum's wedding. There's Raventh, and then us and Natana, and Uncle Fland, and the horses," she was saying, "and Raventh, and..."

There was Raventh with five fire lizards swirling over his head; then his mother and uncle standing, looking deeply pleased Singing Waters Hold Harper read the rites of marriage. Then the pictures showed him in conversation with his brother Sandriss and Lizard. What were they discussing so deeply? He couldn't remember.

"Sheesh, look at my ears, they stick out," he said, unable to bear seeing a picture of himself, "I look goofy."

"Oh, shut up. They're fine," she said.

"When did you take these? I don't remember seeing you taking pictures," he said.

"I borrowed the library's camera, I still can't afford one of my own, yet! And I took bunches of pictures and uploaded them to Landing and the Yokohama, that night," she said, still searching. "I'm still learning how to use this once I put pictures on it, right now I have to go through all of them," she said, more to herself than to him. "Got it." She handed the data link to him. On the screen was a picture of the burnt wagon.

"I heard you men talking about the wheels and the axle after you got back. So I rode out to where the wagon had burned, after Lord Dorn had left and you had come back. I took pictures of the wagon and the wheels, but not the people in the wagon and not the animals. I feel so sorry for those poor beasts, the oxen, they hadn't a chance. And the horses...". Her face was troubled. She shook her head to dispel the images.

"Anyway, I took pictures of the wheels, because I heard Lizard say they were 'specially made but he didn't know where. And this is what I learned," she said. "I sent these pictures to the computers at Landing. "See what it says?"

The datalink's screen filled with a shot of the remnants of the burnt wheel. Below it was text that said,

Wheel, wagon

Year of manufacture, unknown.

85% chance of wood being that of sky-broom.

Place of manufacture: 90% likelihood Keroon Hold

He was dumbstruck at her cleverness. None of the grownups had thought to document the wheels.

"Wow. Lizard said the wheel was sky-broom and made up north. Glyena, you are one smart girl, you know that?"

She smiled. "I know."

"So, why...are you bringing this to me?"

"Because you're going to take the axle and the wheels and the branding iron to Lord Dorn's hold, right? And you'll tell him what Landing said," she said. "You can take this datalink if you want," she said.

Now he felt ashamed that he'd even considered his books too valuable for her to handle.

"No, that's okay, I don't know too much about making it work. Lord Dorn will believe me," he said. "And oh by the way, HOW do you learn these things? I didn't go around telling people about the axle and my going to Singing Waters. Are you reading the duty roster in Pattis's office?" he said.

The Flight Ops woman was notoriously cantankerous, especially when it came to non- dragonriders entering her flight ops domain, never mind reading "her" flight status boards.

"No way, she's mean, when she's in Flight Ops she runs us kids off, but that only makes some of them more eager to sneak in. They make it a game and it drives her crazy. If she'd just let them in and tell them what she does, they'd get bored and forget about it.

No, this time, it's...well, adults don't think us kids listen, but we do. Well, I do. So they talk about things that maybe sometimes kids shouldn't hear but like Shirae says, eventually, 'all secrets will out', especially in a Weyr as small as ours. But this wasn't a secret, not really, just..um, people wondering out loud. Lord Dorn said that he thought the wagon was from one of his cotholders 'cuz one's been reported as missing, 'long with a team," she said, then continued.

"Harlan is Nyala's weyrmate and she's Herdmaster and I am in the barn all the time with Jordan, and helping out with the horses. Harlan looked at the axles and said he agrees with them going to Lord Dorn, he knows you're already tasked to take the branding iron, but he 'seriously doubts' they were made here in Southern. Something about the concentration of iron makes him think they were made up north. Too. And Lizard said the same thing about the wheels so it makes me think that the wagon wasn't stolen from Lord Dorn, it was from somewhere up north, and so maybe there are more thieves out there than just the two in the wagon," she said.

He shook his head in amazement. He WAS scheduled to take the metal items to Lord Dorn later on in the day. What Glyena said was almost word for word what he'd heard Harlan say.

He looked at her with new respect.

"You're too clever, sis. I think you are right. Can you do this same thing with dragons?"

"What 'thing'?" she asked, puzzled.

"Reading people's thoughts," he said, laughing.

_________________________________________________________________________

"Change of plans, boyo," Pattis, the Flight Ops chief, said. She had a strange smile on her face, one that said she was enjoying messing with his schedule.

K'ndar had reported to Flight Ops to sign out prior to flying to Singing Waters hold.

"Oh?" He bridled at her calling him 'boyo' but he knew her too well. She was always derisive and antagonistic. Pattis was not known for courtesy or respect. Few people liked her, but she was an excellent flight ops tech, and knew it.

"Yes, you'll be stopping at Singing Waters to meet with Lord Dorn, but then you'll be doing a sweep over his holdings," she said.

He really didn't mind, and even if he did, he wasn't about to let her know she was annoying.

He looked at her chalkboard, with the day's duty roster. His name and Raventh's said "Singing Waters Hold" and nothing else.

He shrugged. "No matter. Did you make the changes to the board? I don't see it."

Pattis snapped, "I was in the process of doing so when you barged in, interrupting me."

"I thought signing out was standard operating procedure. You've changed policy without authorization?" he snapped right back.

"It IS. No I haven't. Don't be snippy with me, boyo," she hissed.

"Snippy, eh? I see. I'll remember that, next time," he said.

"He wasn't being snippy, Pattis, and kindly remember that dragonriders have a right to check the duty roster at ANY TIME," a voice behind him said.

He turned to see Siena, his Weyrwoman.

Grinning, he said, "Good morning, ma'am," nodding his head in respect.

"I was just in the process, ma'am, this boy was disputing the duty change," Pattis said.

The bold lie astonished him.

"That's not true, Pattis," he said, angered, "I've never disputed a duty assignment in my life."

Siena looked hard at Pattis.

"Pattis, I heard your entire conversation, such as it was. Your tone is unbecoming of a member of my Weyr. I would appreciate it if you were to treat K'ndar, who is not a boy but a full fledged dragonrider, with the same respect you treat me or M'rvin, yours and my Weyrleader. Do you understand?"

Pattis bristled but backed down. She couldn't bring herself to submit.

Siena looked coldly at the woman. "I asked you, do you understand? Or should I say, will you comply?"

"Yes, ma'am," Pattis said, sullenly.

There were several uncomfortable moments, most on Pattis's part. K'ndar relished her denouement. He could not understand why she was so ill tempered. She had a comfortable job, seldom being tasked for anything other than Ops.

"Now then, Pattis, I'm to sweep after meeting with Lord Dorn. Who am I sweeping with?" he said.

"I'm writing it in, now," Pattis said. This was evasion of a subtle sort, unable to treat him with respect even under the Weyrwoman's gaze. She erased his name with one hand and began to write with the other. Her chalk made a screeching noise on the board.

Should I press it? Push her a little harder, because his Weyrwoman was his ally? K'ndar thought. Why are you allowed to stay here, he wondered. It wouldn't take much to have a datalink create a duty roster automatically, then you'd be out of a job.

Siena was uncharacteristically silent. If he'd looked at her face, he'd see she was anticipating something with what could be called amusement.

"Who, Pattis?" he said.

She continued to ignore him, pretending to concentrate on writing.

When she finished, she put down her chalk, and turning, dusted off her hands.

The board said, "Siena, Weyrwoman, gold Mirth: K'ndar, brown Raventh, Singing Waters and sweep duty."

"Uh...uh..."K'ndar stammered, shocked.

This time it was Pattis's face that showed amusement, but of a mean sort.

He turned to face Siena.

"Um..."

"What? Don't want to ride with me at your side?" Siena teased.

"Uh, of course not, ma'am, uh, I"m mean, I'd be honored, ma'am, it's just .."

Siena laughed in her cultured voice. "I know. Weyrwomen riding sweeps? Doing a mundane task? Unbecoming of my rank, what?"

"No, ma'am, I just um just..." he stammered. He'd never heard of a weyrwoman riding sweeps. It just wasn't done, a gold...especially the weyr's queen, was more important than doing tasks even a weyrling could do.

Pattis emitted an ugly cackle. Later on, when he had time to reflect, he'd realized it was her way of laughing, something no one had ever heard the haughty woman do.

Siena took the signout chalk board and dashed off her name. Handing it to K'ndar, she said,

"M'rvin is busy with weyr business and one of us needs to get with Lord Dorn. It's in regard to your cargo, but I'm going stir crazy. It's a beautiful day. Golds can't be treated like they're fragile, remember, we flew against thread just like any other dragonrider. Mirth loves to work and needs the flight. Sign, K'ndar, and let's go," she said.

 

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."

 

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!"