Chapter 4
H'llon was still simmering after the meeting; and Masterharper Sebell draped an arm around his shoulder.
"Now, Bronze Rider, there is no truth in the rumour that Sograny's father accidentally sent his prize tup for training instead of his son," said Sebell. "For assuredly the Beastcrafters would have noticed the difference; the tup would have had better manners!"
Once H'llon had laughed at that outrageous calumny, he started to calm down. Sebell went on,
"He was rude to F'nor about the grubs too; some people are afraid of things that are new or beyond their understanding, as most folks are of Thread. You should be sorry for the poor fellow."
"Not likely – not after threatening Po like that!" H'llon's eyes glistened.
"And how could it be a real threat? Each craft has its autonomy. No master may inflict punishment on another craft's apprentice without permission from that craft, unless they are seconded under the craft, as the Harper Hall has Tanners seconded to it for the making of drum skins. As Sograny should well know."
"It was malice to try to hurt me then? By attacking my fosterling?"
"Malice? My dear fellow, malice implies some sort of thought process involved! It was a reaction to the fear of forgeries allied with fear of change, neither one less nor greater than the other, so he leaped in with both flat feet to condemn both – in his usual inimitably tactless way!"
H'llon sniffed.
"You're as silver tongued as Robinton," he grumbled.
Sebell grinned.
"That's what they pay me for!" He said.
xxx
Duthi was called into service, designing notes for each craft.
"Can't we have a complex border that is the same for all, and the central square denoting value on one side and Crafthall on the other?" He suggested. "And different colour ink for the tens than for the hundreds would show what it was at a glance."
H'llon nodded.
"Make it so: but make sure there is complexity in the central panels too. Ultimately the crafts will add their own centres on prepared paper, but for now we'll be doing it all."
"How many?" Asked Duthi.
H'llon shrugged.
"I have no idea. I don't know how much money circulates, even."
"An average man earns 400 marks a Turn," said Ipominea. "Most of that he spends; so let's say 400, no 500 to take account of those who earn more than 1000 marks a turn, for each person at any one time. A Major Hold has some 10,000 inhabitants; and three times that to cover minor Holds and cotholds too, say 30,000 people per Hold, and, er, seventeen holds… 15 million marks times seventeen… er, lots." She looked shocked.
So did H'llon.
"What have I talked us into?" He gasped.
"Work," said Ipominea laconically. "Once the plates are etched it'll go fast enough when it set up. It's a small proportion of them marks in circulation that will be in large denominations; and we'll need long enough to recall all peoples marks to give them time before the old marks become worthless."
"Oh – I suppose they'll have to go out of circulation completely!" said H'llon. "I'm beginning to see why Sograny was so upset!"
"Huh," said Ipominea, "he isn't capable of reasoning that far ahead. It was no such thing; just resistance to change. Don't worry! It'll be fine."
H'llon grinned at her youthful insouciance.
"Might be easier if I could etch several in one sheet and print say half a dozen at once," said Duthi.
"Could you?"
Duthi shrugged.
"It'll take time; but it'd save time in the long run," he said. "I'll ask Saralsi to cast me a grid: I can mark the wax with it lightly as a guide if I grid off my design to make the copying more accurate."
H'llon nodded.
"I leave that in your hands then; and a proportion of the fee to come to you for your work."
"Sir, there's no need…"
"Oh yes there is – this takes you from producing things for sale on your own account for the wealth of the craft. By rights some of the fee will be yours. Your extraordinary skill is really what makes the proposal I made possible."
"Sir… Thank you!" managed Duthi.
H'llon grinned
"I guarantee in three days time, you'll be quietly cursing me more than thanking me," he said, "for it will be hard meticulous work. I'm glad I have someone I can trust to do it."
Duthi had thought H'llon special before; now he would have walked into Thread for him.
xxx
Tahnee and Ipominea had time off to do some lessons with the other female candidates; but with the hard work their still-new craft required, R'gar was lenient. As he said, Ipominea more or less counted as weyrbred, and Tahnee almost so through Elissa, who was nobody's fool and would not train a daft fosterling. Tahnee unravelled that to as close to a compliment as the crusty Weyrlingmaster was likely to come to a candidate, and candidate's parent. Both girls were well up to R'gar's stringent standards of fitness; as were many of the others. Mallitta wanted to stand again, and Geriana had put forward her apprentice Vellara. Teesha of the Harperweyr would also stand another time, leaving Larrina who was almost fit enough to please R'gar – she was unpleasant but no fool – and the new girls, a pair of female lovers and the little sister of one of them. This child, Linnara, was a little older than Ipominea and Lekelle, the youngest candidates, and almost as scatterbrained as Carinn. Linnara's fits did not help; and it was obvious to the weyrbred that her candidateship was an excuse to rescue her from a father whose beatings only exacerbated her condition.
Linnara was a gutsy enough little girl and the two printers took her under their wing a little. She would need a trade if she planned to stay; and both girls found their craft soothing in its perfection of repetitiveness, and showed her around.
The little girl was interested. She also showed some skill withdrawing, though her attempts at carving almost led to cut thumb. Tahnee had grabbed her hand just in time. Linnara sat happily for hours watching copies come off the press, however, and made herself useful collating the pages for books to be sewn together.
"Do you need a thirteenth apprentice, Master?" asked Tahnee cheerfully.
"You have one in mind?" Asked H'llon.
"Linnara," said Tahnee.
H'llon shrugged.
"I'll just take in eleven not twelve from those who have applied," he said. "No point overloading ourselves. I've yet to review applicants: they come in five days time. I've had twenty-seven applications."
"Heh, you'll pick who's good, and never notice numbers, H'llon," said Ipominea. "It'll be fine."
H'llon cuffed her lightly for forgetting to call him Master in the Hall; then gave her a hug.
Ipominea leaned into it; and Linnara watched with wistful eyes, wondering how a man could strike a blow that barely ruffled the hair as could be loved so well.
Jeinne, who adored her little sister, was grateful that the child had made a friend closer to her in age; assuming Tahnee to be at least sixteen!
"Sure she's no trouble to you and your apprentice, Journeyman?" She asked Tahnee.
"None at all," said Tahnee. "She can start as an apprentice after hatching, whether she Impresses or no – and I guess she won't until her fitting has stopped – if it ever does. Can't fight Thread when having a fit," she added laconically. "So long as she is watched near acid, and isn't let to pour molten metal, there's no danger in the Crafthall if she observes normal safety rules. Give the kid something creative to do, and stop fretting; it's worry as makes her fit more, I'd say."
Jeinne nodded
"Everyone here is very kind," she said. "I'd never believed there were people like it."
"It is a shock to the confirmed cynic, isn't it?" grinned Tahnee. "I wasn't well treated before I got to the Woodcrafter Hall – our parent craft, so to speak – so I recognise the way she cringes. I – I was the plaything of a woman who liked little girls sexually. I tell you this because, stupid as it is, you make me wary. I hope you can forgive that."
"I note you call it stupid," said Jeinne, "but I see why you are wary; as a kid who's been had by a man who spoils children will be wary of all men, I suppose. I find the concept as nauseating as any normal man finds such warped men. I hope you believe that."
Tahnee nodded.
"I do; but part of me isn't rational about it. Being candidates together will, I hope, make all of me rational. You know."
Jeinne nodded.
"You can't say fairer than trying not to let it affect your judgement – I'd like us to be friends."
Tahnee smiled.
"So would I: it would set my nightmares to rest a lot I think. And – and I'd rather you explained to your weyrmate than that I should have to say it again, if you don't mind; I'd not want to cause unnecessary jealousy if she thought you were being kind to me for romantic reasons – for I'd not want to cause trouble."
"That's thoughtful of you; very well, I will do that," said Jeinne.
Neminda, once Jeinne's personal drudge, was a little insecure at times and inclined to jealousy; and Jeinne explained most carefully to her, to avoid friction.
xxx
H'llon interviewed his twenty seven would-be printers; and after the first half dozen was wondering if any would come up to his ideas of what was suitable! He set each one a few simple tests of hand-eye co-ordination that he had devised – inking up a sample block and printing as evenly as possible three repeats each way across and down a sheet of paper; and writing their own name in block letter mirror writing. H'llon did not consider them stringent tests, and was appalled at how badly all the candidates were doing. The first child who succeeded in laying the block face up and smoothing the paper on, lightly marking the block's edge in the paper, caused him to sigh with relief.
"You're in," he growled. "What's your name?"
"Laseta, sir. I haven't done all the tests."
"You've got enough care and common sense that you're trainable, even if you make a mess of the rest of it," said H'llon.
"Well, Sir, you learned to be careful when cooking I suppose," said Laseta. "Shall we go on?"
H'llon nodded and watched her through the tests. She had trouble writing her name backwards.
"I don't read and write so good the right way round Sir," she apologised.
"That'll be rectified. If your parents agree, you may stay now, early, to spend time with the Harpers."
She glowed with delight.
"That'd mean Pa would not have to take time off for a special journey – thank you!" She flung her arms around H'llon's neck and kissed his cheek affectionately.
"Tush!" Said H'llon, ruffling her hair. "Go speak to your father – he'll want to look me over too. Take him… hold on."
H'llon stuck his head out of the door, looking for an apprentice. Linnara was there; she would do.
"Linnara, take Laseta and her parents to the lower caverns and see that they get refreshment; they'll want to ask questions about me, she's to stay now, if they will."
Linnara bobbed a curtsy as the other female apprentices did to Master and held out her hand to Laseta.
That might even, thought H'llon, be the start of a budding friendship.
It was to be hoped that those two were not the only ones who were suitable. H'llon had put Dragon transport at the disposal of all those who showed an interest and submitted their names to Craftmaster, Lord Holder, or even Weyrleader – not that he had any weyrbred would-be apprentices in this batch of applicants – to be sure of getting a good selection. The net had gone wide. Twenty-seven was, in fact, a small number of applicants; and even to apply showed some desire to be different and try something. Or possibly, considering the lack of initiative some lads had shown, the desire to get a trip dragonback. Two more cackhanded efforts followed Laseta, before another boy made a more-or-less creditable stab. Shegen could be loosely described as local, and old to start an apprenticeship, but being the child of craft cot woodsman at Three Woods Hold, H'llon could see why his father had hesitated to send him to that imperfect Crafthall.
"Three Woods is much improved under Master Isimy," H'llon said. "Why do you not want to enter apprenticeship there?"
"Because what you are doing is new and exciting, Sir," said Sheghen. "And… And I'd like to have the chance to see dragons go over every day. Is – is that so very wrong?"
"No, lad," said H'llon. "I've not decided yes or no about you: if I have others more talented, will you enter Three Woods and consider transferring later?"
"Oh yes, Sir, if you wish me to!" said Sheghen. "I – I think that spreading information is generally important because if more people read the way things ought to be done, things can't go so wrong, can they?"
H'llon nodded.
He liked the boy's attitude: he was not the most sure of hand, but it was the new craft he craved at least as much as dragons, or he would have asked to join the woodcrafters in the Weyr. He would be a strong possibility to take on.
There was another craft bred boy hot on Sheghen's heels, Calver, Harper bred.
"You were unlucky and weren't musical?" Asked H'llon.
The boy shook his head.
"Oh I'm musical enough to make journeyman without trouble, I guess," he said with all the assurance and eleven turn old could muster. "But it's very wearing when music becomes more a chore than a pleasure."
H'llon nodded.
"We've a lad here – well, in the Weyr – who wanted to keep his muse as a hobby, though he passed easily enough to be an apprentice. He wanted to sail."
"What happened to him Sir?" Asked Calver.
H'llon grinned.
"He Impressed; so he sails and sings both as a hobby. If you passed the test, there'd be nothing to stop you transferring to the Harperweyr in the future if you change your mind; and they'd be happy for you to learn informally from them and join in sing-songs and concerts. We're very informal here."
Calver brightened.
"Truly, Sir? I – I don't want to lose music, but I just don't want to eat, sleep and breathe nothing but music."
H'llon nodded. Poor little sprout had been pushed too hard too soon by ambitious parents. He'd be lost from printing to the Harper Hall one day, no doubt; but then he could go to the Harper Hall as print-trained with stave blocks to print, to relieve the Printcraft Hall, and still produce revenue. H'llon put him through the tests.
For all his youth, Calver was deft and careful: marking the paper neatly with tiny folds before any printing. And his name was carefully reproduced in mirror image.
"You'll do," said H'llon. "We've Harpers in the printshops, so you will find music down here as well as in the Weyr; I'll ask T'rin to give you a trial to join in sessions with them. We have a close association with the Harpers. Send in… No, hop three doors down, and ask the senior apprentice to send klah for me, and for all those still waiting. It's time for a break."
"Yes Sir!" said Calver, running off.
Xxx
H'llon was exceedingly glad of the klah Faleron brought.
"How goes it, Master?" asked Faleron.
"Eleven seen, two definite, one possible," groaned H'llon. "Is it too tough a test?"
"But no, Master," said Faleron. "No point taking those who can't make the grade. You'll see if they're trying, even if they muff it. You don't just look at results. First lot of chattering idiots only came for the Dragon ride, I reckon."
That concurred so closely with H'llon's half-guilty musings that the Master laughed out loud.
"I'm afraid you might be right!" He said sadly.
