Chapter 4

Horslas had never been given practical advice before – probably because he was not previously prepared to listen to it – save from Master Isimy, which advice had been to make the best of a new start and try to learn by watching others. He remembered the Master's advice now, advice he had not really understood or heeded at the time; and decided to try Redlan's suggestion. After all, the brats could scarcely hate him any more.

Kispre, Tassarek and Mart surveyed the big apprentice warily when he approached them. Horslas decided to get his speech over, and launched into it.

"Look, you kids, I was in a bad mood earlier" he said. "Master Tuon had rubbished my best efforts and I was out of sorts. Can we start over?" he thrust out a hand.

It was not an apology by words; but even Kispre could read the intent. Kispre hated touching and being touched by any but his family but he knew that hand clasps were part of the rituals that made everyone else comfortable and learned to live with it. There was some wary suspicion on Kispre's part that this might be a way of getting a child to offer a hand to be squeezed or twisted, but Elissa and Gerney said you always had to give someone a chance.

"Oh, Master Tuon's got some funny ideas" Kispre took the outstretched hand with slightly gritted teeth.

Horslas did nothing untoward but clasped the smaller boy's hand firmly and with some relief.

"Shards!" said Kispre. "I say, I'm sorry, Horslas, I thought you were going to pull some stunt like twisting my wrist; I apologise for having you wrong."

Horslas flushed. There had been half an urge to do that just because he could, just to keep the kid off balance, and he had suppressed it and had revelled in being given trust instead of despising it.

The other two also took his hand each in turn, cautiously.

"I like marquetry, what I've done so far" said Mart. "It's precise. Can't you give it up if you don't like it? how long have you been learning?"

Horslas flushed.

"I came to it late" he said. "I only got here at the end of the last turn; I hadn't never done no marquetry before."

Kispre sighed in exasperation.

"Oh, I suppose there was a pretty girl walking by when Master Bendarek explained that to Master Tuon; he's awfully good at what he does – if you like that sort of thing, and there's no doubt that it DOES sell – but he's as easily distracted as a newhatched firelizard" he stroked his own little Steelsheen affectionately.

"Where did you get him?" asked Horslas, enviously. "Them boys that come to Threewoods from here, some of them had firelizards."

Kispre smiled solemnly.

"It's when having a dragonrider for a relative comes in kind of handy" he said. "Steelsheen is my Turnover gift from Uncle H'llon. Tass has one because he's Weyrbred and Elissa had a clutch to share with her friends, I guess some of the boys who went to Threewoods are."

"And I don't have a firelizard because I don't have decent relatives" said Mart, pugnaciously. "I was left out to die because of my feet, but roamers fed me and I learned to carve to pay my way."

"And H'llon's talking to a smith about making metal bracing bits to put on shoes so he can walk better" said Kispre. "Clubfoot can be straightened, but there's nothing much there to straighten."

Horslas stared, horribly fascinated. This was the sort of kid he would normally have picked on, easy to put down; but the kid succeeded with marquetry where he was failing, and a dragonman, a Bronze Rider no less, was considering how to help the kid.

"Can I see?" he asked suddenly.

"Why? You planning on laughing?" demanded Mart, belligerently.

"I'm curious. Never seen it" said Horslas.

"I ain't no freak for a freak show" Mart bristled.

"Can't hurt to show him" said Tassarek. "He's a big boy, learned a lot; maybe he can think of something even cleverer than Kispre's uncle; guess if more people knew more about other people there'd be less misunderstanding and folk'd get on better."

Mart shrugged, undid one shoe and pulled it and the sock off.

"The other's the same" he said.

The foot stopped being normal at the ankle, which bone had limited movement; and in place of a foot was a fist-sized lump of unformed flesh.

Horslas gave an exclamation of horror. For the first time in his life he was putting himself into the place of someone else, knowing that his father would have killed him if he had been born with such a deformity, realising that despite this, the boy Mart was good enough to be offered an apprenticeship, and if he had been with roamers, probably was good enough to have a free place.

"Never had no toes nor nothing" said Mart. "I get about pretty good, but I can't run. Any ideas?"

"Er, no" said Horslas. "Unless…would it make you walk better if it fit in a shoe that was foot shaped on the outside, carved of wood and fitting it exactly on the inside? To be kinda stable?"

"Dunno" said Mart "But it can't hurt to try, can it? ta!"

"Master Gerney will have some wood to try" said Kispre.

"A lot of cotholders in the High Reaches wear wooden shoes in the fields" said Horslas. "Because of the mud. They're waterproof."

"Yeah?" Tassarek was interested. "I never heard of that before, if people wear wooden shoes, I guess that makes it sound more practical than I thought. Sort of like foot boats!" he giggled.

"I – er, I suppose" said Horslas. "They're hard wearing and cheap too, I guess. I know how to make them, we done a lot of them at Threewoods. Reckon I could give you a hand and teach you how. And to make them for ordinary feet" he added.

"Yeah? You're a sport, Horslas!" said Mart. "Reckon we was wrong about you, putting you down as a real bully!"

Horslas flushed.

"I got in with a bully at Threewoods" he simplified the facts.

"Oh, to stop him doing you over? I guess that's pretty tough" said Tassarek. "You see that with candidates; the ones who toady to the bullies so's not to be beaten on; gen'ly they've been beaten on at home. You been beaten on at home too?" his green eyes were guileless and genuinely interested.

"Yeah" said Horslas.

"Huh, you want to join the logicators" said Kispre. "We protect people and help them protect themselves."

"It's a sort of constructive interference" explained Mart. "Nosy busybodies but kinda trained to be busy about real problems, not just poking in noses where they're not wanted. Well, not wanted by bullies and bad people, but nobody cares about what they want. Logicators got me sent here. They rescue people who are being hurt and find out murderers and things."

"We're part of the junior branch" said Tassarek. "But you're grown up so you'll be with the big people. Journeyman Elissa leads them, she's top logicator here. She killed a wicked woman who was hurting little girls, and she wasn't any older'n you when she did it I reckon!"

Horslas rapidly reassessed. He had been ticked off for unnecessary roughness by Elissa soon after arriving and had dismissed her as another soft craftbred sentimentalist.

"Killed? On purpose?" he asked.

"I think she meant to maim her enough for Lord Asgenar to hang the woman" said Kispre "But she hit her hard with a skillet, 'cos she wanted her to go down, 'cos she was a big beefy woman. My foster sisters were being hurt by her, 'cos she pretended to make them apprentices and she liked hurting people and wanted them to drudge for her too. She'd killed little girls before and Tahnee and Lianka nearly died. Tahnee isn't here; she's Journeyman Printcrafter now at High Reaches Weyr" he added punctiliously. "One of only two, you know! and anyway, Elissa wasn't hardly about to lose any sleep over killing a tunnel snake like that".

"I didn't realise that you people didn't muck about!" Horslas was impressed – these kids didn't seem shocked by Journeyman Elissa having killed someone either! "What if they won't have me?" he asked, anxiously.

"Oh, anyone's entitled to be a logicator" said Kispre, "so long as they mean it and aren't mocking. They've got a meeting tonight now the new ones have shook down a bit."

"You're a new one yourself" said Horslas.

"Well, yes, but I do live here, and Elissa's my foster mother" said Kispre "So I get to hear more stuff and so I don't feel as new as people who really are, 'cos I know all the Masters and Journeymen and all the hidey holes and most people's i-dio-syn-crasies. I think I got that big word right" he added parenthetically after pronouncing it carefully.

"Getting back to them funny-named personality quirks which is what you meant" said Mart "What with Master Tuon rubbishing our Horslas here, shall I run through the basics again? Like enough he forgot to teach you something real basic that you need to build on if he got distracted; and if you go through it with me, what I've learned so far, you can check if he's missed anything."

"All right" said Horslas. "Thanks."

Horslas, with sudden unwonted insight, wondered if the Master had indeed assumed that he was revising a student not teaching him from scratch. Well maybe it had been a misunderstanding, but if he could learn properly, he could show Tuon up, and he could earn real marks with fancy work!

oOoOo

It transpired that, when looking it over again, Master Tuon had not exactly left anything out of his explanations to Horslas. However, had been impatient over teaching basics to a big boy as he was not with the younger ones, and expected a crafter of several turns' experience to pick it up from a hasty explanation that had gone by too fast for a boy who was as generally ill-prepared as Horslas was, coming as he had from poor teaching and lax discipline. Mart went through it with the care of someone who was revising it for himself; and with his own asides on what was easy and what was hard.

"I think I'm looking forward to using complex and curved shapes" he said "But I'm content with geometric pieces to fit together for now! It's a bit like patchwork, I guess."

Horslas nodded.

"I reckon it's more in the measuring than I realised, when he had me copying the paper pieces" he said.

"And in the cutting too" said Mart, seriously. "The thickness of a knife blade can be the difference of a fit or no. It's best to work on getting the knife right down the graphite line in the middle; then it's all averaged out and you don't get discrepancies of fit."

Horslas nodded. The graphite pencils used in the marquetry class were precious things, to be kept needle sharp but not wasted! It was tempting to keep using them after they had blunted, just to avoid being scrutinised suspiciously by Master Tuon to check that the sharpening was not profligate!

oOoOo

Horslas went, rather tentatively, to the logicator meeting.

Redlan grinned cheerily at him; Josis nodded approval, and Journeyman Elissa gave him a sharp look to see if he had come to cause trouble.

Master Gerney gave the boy a cool nod. Horslas was a little afraid of Gerney; the man was stern. He had taken pains to introduce Horslas to the lathe, a contrast to Master Tuon's perfunctory introduction of his subject. Horslas was now regretting that he had made such a poor showing on the lathe and had not tried harder. He really could not get the hang of the treadle; and consequently could not concentrate on what his hands had been doing! Looking back, the dour Master had been patient with him, but had dropped on the boy when he started making sawdust balls to throw at others when left alone, boredom and frustration leading him to misbehave, the only response he knew. Horslas flushed at the memory.

"Please, sir, how does Mart treadle?" he burst out.

Gerney looked sharply at him to see if he meant insolence; and decided the question was an honest one.

"For now, Kispre treadles for him; I am building a hand-cranked machine. Less efficient, but better than nothing" he added.

"Please, sir, may I try again on it when it's built?" Horslas blurted out again. "I don't want to be beaten by some wretched machine!"

Gerney brightened.

"That's a better attitude than you had before" he said. "And I'll let you back in my class now if you are prepared to sit and just treadle to try and get the hang of it. A boy who's now a Journeyman did that; he wasn't prepared to be beaten either. He became a quite competent turner."

"May I sir? you gave me a lot of time – I didn't appreciate that but I guess I do now" Horslas said in a rush.

Gerney was pleased.

"Any Master worth his salt wants all his pupils to reach their full potential" he said. "I always feel it's my failure if I have to dismiss a boy from my class."

"Oh!" said Horslas, taken aback. "Well I AIN'T going to fail."

"That's the spirit, lad" said Gerney, treating the boy to one of his rare smiles. "Now, let's shelve woodcrafting and move to logicating!"

Elissa nodded to Horslas, and called the meeting to order.

"Do we have anything to bring to the logicators' attention?" she asked. "We've a few new members here, including J'ton here from Igen, who's here to learn logicating and take it back to his Weyr. If we've nothing specific, I thought we might tell stories to help the new members to get a feeling of what we've done and what we do."

"Please, Journeyman, is it in order to say that I believe that problems are often caused by attitudes found in the top echelon of any organisation?" said Redlan. "Josis can tell you" and he blushed violently. Josis pretended not to notice.

"People are what they are because they're made that way by their parents and those in authority" said Josis. "We copy our parents; it's built in as a way we learn, I guess, and it's the basis of apprenticeship, learning either from crafter parents, or as here with the Masters as surrogate parents with more and wider skills."

Elissa nodded.

"It is a valid point; and one known to the logicators, but just as valuable to bring up from independent observation" she said. "It goes deeper than the old generalities that Holdbred are intolerant, Craftbred are prudes and Weyrbred are promiscuous; none of these generalities being entirely, or even particularly, true. But the exigencies of different priorities and different social structures create differences in outlook that each can produce their own problems. And within those structures are modifications based on the personalities of those who are in charge; and the individuals who have most influence on a growing youngster. A craftbred child might be more influenced by an admired master than by his own parents; in the Weyr, often a foster mother has most to do with the upbringing of Riders' children, because of the risks involved to the parents; but admiration for a Rider parent or other Rider might provide a role model. In Holds, the teaching of the Hold Harpers may be what influences a child. But what we learn in infancy, before we are of an age for Harpers, will always have some influence on us, even if we choose later to disregard that. A child beaten from an early age may – most do – become either a victim, often dying at the hands of a bully his, or more often, herself, knowing no better than to marry a man who beats her; or will himself become a bully. Children are like animals in being instinctive and a hurt animal lashes out without logic. Boys too often become pugnacious as they become men, whatever it is in the body that changes boys into men can affect their behaviour, and this can make a boy who is bullied angrier and more likely to lash out at others. Once this becomes a habit, it can be difficult, even impossible to overcome; but the strongest wills can break that habit."

"Vorinia did" said Josis. "Overnight. She's the unusual example of a girl becoming a bully – I presume because of her social rank?"

"Yes, being a Holder's daughter placed her away from those under her, and she's also the example of someone not beaten herself but just accepting it as normal from a father who wasn't really quite sane" said Elissa. "Though it's not just women who do become victims, the quiet, imaginative introspective boys may also do so. And some rare people have the inner strength to realise that what is happening is wrong and they often become passionately involved in combating bullying and the hurting of children. Those who manage to turn their lives around and eschew bullying may also become protectors and champions of the weak. Like Vorinia."

Josis nodded.

"As you say, she wasn't beaten but she was never brooked or curbed in her life, and that's as damaging to a kid as being beaten on. But what you said about earlier times was to her advantage, because she had a nurse who instilled in her some decent values, before the old woman got ill and Holder Vorn threw her out during Threadfall."

There were gasps of horror.

Josis nodded again.

"Yes, lovely person as he is… he violated my rights as craftbred too, for those of you who don't know, making me a drudge and taking my apprentice knots from me when my father died. I'm glad Lord Bargen deposed him. Lord Bargen thought him insane, as you suggested, Elissa, and he's confined in the Healer Hall, but I think he's just nasty. Anyway, Vorinia realised everyone hated her, and worked really hard to change; and you couldn't meet a nicer person now, kind, patient, and cheerful despite her terrible accident. She held on to a stupid, heedless brat of a girl to save her from falling to her death after doing something stupid; and it wrecked Vorinia's back. They say she'll walk and ride freely again, but it's been a long haul. People CAN change; but they have to want to. You can't help someone who won't help themselves."

Horslas stood up.

"I'm a bully and I want to change" he said.

"Didya do what I suggested?" asked Redlan.

"Yeah. You were right. They're a decent bunch of brats really" said Horslas. "Mart's helping me with my marquetry; I'm going to help him carve shoes like High Reaches work clogs to give him wooden feet."

"That's not a half bad idea" said Elissa. "And by the way, if you got that far, I'd say you were already changing yourself – well done. I think it might need leather straps to hold tight to his ankles - from in front, round the ankles and perhaps through a strap running up the back too. And, people, that's another thing logicators do: try to find practical solutions to life's little vicissitudes for people who need it by combining different skills and knowledge" and she smiled warmly at Horslas.

Horslas had never felt like this before – warm inside, approved of!

It was all the boy could do not to cry from a mix of emotions.