Chapter 14
After the evening meal, the girls were ready to play and sing their piece for Bedella; she had invited the other Weyrwoman and the Bronze Riders to listen, and Prisca was pleased that she had not known this in advance or she might have felt nervous. Mendra looked suddenly apprehensive, and Prisca poked her gently.
"Sing it for yourself," she muttered. "Think about doing it. THEY don't matter."
Mendra gave her a tight smile. Pleasing a Bronze Rider father must be a hard thing, thought Prisca; I'd be delighted to show off something I'd enjoyed learning to MY father. She did not voice her thoughts however and motioned to Daraleen to lead the singing.
The girls sang with gusto; having been bagging firestone not long before gave it an immediacy, and their singing went with a real swing, Trill and Mendra's little blue Corrie adding counterpoints in clear sweet descants.
Bedella was plainly enchanted.
"Excellent music!" she declared. "Who was it who brought it?"
"I did, Weyrwoman," said Prisca, "I was training in record keeping with Harpers, and it's hard not to pick up new songs when people are playing and singing around you all the time. The Harpers of Brightwater have all the latest songs out of the Harper Hall."
"Perhaps we should invite them to come and perform," mused Bedella.
"I am sure they have more things to do than private performances," said R'mart waspishly. Prisca made a sudden discovery; R'mart, if not tone deaf, was close enough that the music had been mere noise to him, if his bored expression had been anything to go by. She felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Bedella; what woman would not be peevish if trapped in what was essentially marriage with a man who could not share something that was plainly a passion.
"I am sure that they would be honoured," said Prisca, smiling brightly and feigning to miss the Weyrleader's obvious lack of enthusiasm. K'stol shot her a suspicious look which she met with a bland and enthusiastic face devoid of anything even that could be remotely described as intellect. K'stol rolled his eyes up to the cavern roof.
"Then I shall send a messenger to them," said Bedella, either oblivious to, or ignoring, her weyrmate's lack of enthusiasm.
"Perhaps they should entertain for the hatching?" suggested Prisca, looking suitably awed at the thought, "part of their reward to be to witness it!"
"An excellent idea; then we shan't have to pay them so much," said Bedella, who was shrewd enough to see an advantage, if not clever enough to recognise that she was being manipulated.
As it apparently passed over Palla's head too, a secretly appalled Prisca was rapidly coming to the conclusion that any one of the women of High Reaches, down to and including the sassy Sagarra, was probably more capable of being an effective Weyrwoman than either of Telgar's resident Queen Riders.
It did NOT pass Gwesara by.
"What were you up to?" she asked in a whisper after the girls bowed and left the senior Weyrriders.
"She was up to something?" Mendra asked. Daraleen giggled.
"Harpercraft taught you manipulation too?" she asked.
Prisca grinned.
"No, I figured that out for myself – by watching and learning," she said. "I felt that some of the people I knew in Brightwater Hold were well worthy of dragons and I thought it would be nice to get them into a place where the dragons could feel them. I thought I'd project pictures of them as best I could when we view the eggs."
"R'mart will have an apoplexy," said Mendra, horrified.
"Good, perhaps he'll retire in horror," said Prisca. "We need to keep telling Bedella how clever she was to sense that the musicians should be there to add to a musical Weyr."
"You're so sharp you're in danger of cutting yourself, Prisca!" said Gwesara, half horrified, half admiring.
"You're trying to get as many people as possible around whichever of us gets the Queen as supporters of change, aren't you?" said Mendra, shrewdly.
Prisca shrugged.
"Safety in numbers," she said. "One Green Rider might be shuffled off to High Reaches. Several? Much less easy, and would make the Weyr even more of a laughing stock."
Mendra winced.
"Telgar Weyr is a laughing stock in High Reaches?" she whispered.
"What do you think?" said Prisca. "Hanging on to old ideas like someone too cowardly to have a bad tooth pulled, despising the cranks and cripples in the face of the evidence that High Reaches flies a more efficient sweep than any other Weyr, as I've heard from itinerants and travelling Journeymen, NOT from the Weyr which does not boast. And Telgar fails to Protect and Serve, takes little notice of the talents to be exploited in those who happen to be disabled, or female, and has a falling population of dragons. It's wrong that a Weyr should be a laughing stock, and moreover that things are bad enough that it's a byword, like beastcrafters, for hidebound stupidity amongst Holderfolk."
Mendra was white.
"Then it's our bounden duty to improve things," she said.
"Yes," said Prisca, "Which is why we've sworn to support each other. They can't do anything if we stand together, and whoever gets the Queen supports the Greenriders and they support her. We can do this."
"It would help if Bedella exerted herself and didn't let R'mart say such awful things," said Gwesara.
"Interesting, it's thought at High Reaches that she's hysterical and he gives in for a quiet life," said Prisca. "Not so?"
"No," said Mendra, "Though I can see him saying 'My Weyrwoman wouldn't like it' to put a clincher on an argument he's making, you know. She's – she doesn't seem aware of the undercurrents of what people think."
Prisca gasped.
"She missed R'mart's disapproval of the musicians, and though she displayed pleasure after we had finished, her face was pretty expressionless through the performance. I wonder…" she mused.
"Wonder what?" demanded Daraleen.
"H'llon of High Reaches, he and his family have this inability to read other people, and also take things pretty literally, and can't cope with figures of speech," said Prisca. "It doesn't affect his abilities as a dragonrider, but he was a byword for failing to notice the importunities of any woman. If Bedella has the same sort of thing she might not be as stupid as she looks, but just fails to pick up what's going on. NOT good in a Weyrleader."
"Palla's her daughter," said Mendra, "And she hasn't a clue. If J'frey's Willerth hadn't flown Talmanth I doubt she'd even have noticed that he admired her. From what my mother has said," she added honestly. "I wasn't around at the time."
"Oh dear," said Prisca. "That doesn't bode well for when R'mart and Bedella DO retire."
"If you are supposed to use Trill to pass messages to help you change Telgar from the inside, I think perhaps that is something you SHOULD pass on," said Gwesara, quietly. Prisca flushed. Mendra stared at her; changed colour several times, and nodded.
"I think I'd rather have a friend change things from inside than have Benden step in and order a change," she said. "I don't have to like it though, if you're taking instructions from outside."
"I'm not, well not really," said Prisca, "I was asked if I'd mind standing and seeing what, if anything could be done to make sure that by the time the second half of the projected Long Pass happened, younger Riders were more amenable to change."
"LONG PASS?" her three friends stared.
Prisca swallowed hard and explained.
"That puts an even more serious complexion on Telgar's shortcomings," said Mendra, "and I will endorse your actions and follow your lead. May I tell my father about the Long Pass?"
Prisca hesitated.
"I – I think as a Bronze Rider he should have been told already," she said. "I don't think R'mart believes it, though I've not been told anything categorical; obviously no-one wants to criticise a Weyrleader to someone who isn't even a Rider. I accept that, though I picked up a LOT of loose gossip."
"I don't understand a word of your explanation but I can accept that a Long Interval is balanced by a Long Pass," said Gwesara, "and if there's even a possibility of it, then it has to be treated as though it were definitely going to happen, because preparation for an eventuality that doesn't arise is far better than not preparing and being caught on the hop."
"Quite," said Mendra.
"I think I nearly understood some of it," said Daraleen, "and I wouldn't want to bet my life on it NOT happening. Besides, if it was worked out by H'llon, everyone knows he's the cleverest man on Pern, whatever his reputation for not noticing sexual lures might be."
"Half of that is because he's too busy inventing something useful as well anyway!" laughed Prisca, relieved that this revelation was drawing her friends even closer in to supporting her. It had been a tight moment there with Mendra.
When the girls returned to their living cavern it was to find Keilla and Trayana rather warily facing two new girls.
"Listen, whichever of you brats has put your things in the end sleeping cavern, you can just tell the drudge that it's to be moved out," said one of them, with fine gold hair and bright turquoise blue eyes. There was a red mark on the face of the drudge.
"Did you strike the drudge for refusing to move my kit without permission?" asked Prisca, quietly.
The girl shrugged.
"Of course," she said. "Drudges obey orders."
"The drudge is for the convenience of us all," said Prisca. "I suggest you apologise, and a lady would offer a few marks compensation for a fit of unladylike temper as well."
"Excuse me, and WHO are you to speak to me like that? I am Dailla and my father is Holder of Tworocks Hold," said the girl.
"Never heard of it," said Prisca. "I Rank you outside of the Weyr; and in the Weyr we all Rank each other as candidates, though it's custom to defer to Mendra and Gwesara as Weyrbred."
"And we choose Prisca as our spokeswoman and leader," said Gwesara, "which puts her in charge."
The golden haired Dailla looked furious.
"But I WANT that room!" she said.
"I want Thread not to happen, and that's as likely as me giving up my room to an ill-conditioned, spoilt brat who is so low as to strike a drudge who can't strike back," said Prisca. "I am sorry that you, who are weyrbred, have to have the temporary duty of cleaning up behind this nasty creature, er, Spella," she added to the drudge woman, who looked amazed and gratified that Prisca knew her name. "Most of us aren't so incapable as to need a drudge, but I fear this little baby will need your services."
Dailla slapped Prisca.
Prisca had been hoping for that; and slapped her back. Prisca's muscles were a lot better conditioned than Dailla's, and the slap was a lot harder. Dailla howled.
"Serve you right," said Mendra. "You started it. Now shift your kit into one of the empty rooms, or sleep in your clothes. None of us care if you can't behave."
"You'll all be sorry when I've Impressed a Golden Queen!" hissed Dailla.
The other girls greeted that with howls of derisive laughter.
"When there are at least three girls more likely than you? That's just so funny!" said Trayana. "I've got a better chance than you, and frankly, I'm hoping that I'll do like Mirrim and Impress a Green, much more fun than having to be a Weyrwoman!"
"Any of us would be honoured to Impress any dragon," said Prisca, firmly. "Well, if Dailla hasn't the manners to be found in a sty, I suggest we all whip round for a mark or two for Spella to show OUR appreciation and a collective apology for the wherry-fork in our midst."
The others murmured assent and Spella found several wooden tokens pressed upon her while Keilla proceeded to tell Dailla exactly what she thought of her in a few choice fishcrafter terms.
"Ladies, you're all what Weyrwomen are supposed to be," she said, emotionally.
Prisca nodded to her, and turned to the other girl who had arrived, a pale girl with pale hair of nondescript shade and grey eyes, plain next to the lovely Dailla but with far more life and intelligence in the depth of her eyes.
"My apologies for virtually ignoring you," said Prisca, "we had that small irritation to deal with."
"I'm Julyn," said the girl, "craftbred; my grandsire is Masterminer Nicat. I try not to let small irritations upset me. Where would you like me to sleep?"
"Your grandsire is much respected by dragonfolk," said Prisca, "for he helped save the life of a Golden Queen and her clutch."
"DID he?" said Julyn, "he hasn't told me THAT story!"
"I don't know it either," said Gwesara.
"Nor I," said Mendra.
Prisca had heard the tale in High Reaches Weyr of how T'lana had calculated the length at which the crack in the roof of the hatching cavern would fail, bringing half a mountain down on Segrith and her clutch, and how nobody would listen to her explanation that holes needed to be drilled at each end; and that she had fetched the Masterminer who had endorsed her theoretical knowledge with his own practical knowledge, and had proceeded to drill holes very carefully. The humming of dragons as the eggs hatched had caused the crack to extend to the holes – but not beyond. Anyone curious enough could still see T'lana's holes, as they were called.
The other girls – bar Dailla – were fascinated.
"I wish we had know that before!" said Mendra, "I will certainly tell my father!"
"And who is your father, then, the Weyr hole-digger?" sneered Dailla.
"My father," said Mendra, "not that it's any business of a jumped up creature like you, is Bronze Rider M'kor."
That silenced Dailla quite effectively – as even her father deferred to Bronze Riders! In fact he deferred to ALL Riders, but Bronze Riders were the paradigm of power.
"I don't really have much chance of Impressing a Queen," Julyn said to Prisca, as Prisca showed her to an empty room, helping her with her kit, "but I wasn't about to pass up the experience, and the chance to be with dragons close up. It will be something to tell MY grandchildren perhaps one day," she added wistfully.
Prisca regarded her thoughtfully. She liked what she saw; a frank open face, and when they had entered the cavern, Julyn had had her arm around Spella protectively.
"I liked the way you were comforting Spella," she said, "and I like how you want to be with dragons. Tell me honestly, do you think that you won't Impress because of a fear of Thread, for it's plain you don't fear dragons?"
Julyn shook her head.
"I don't like Thread, of course," she said, "but I've walked Sweep with the apprentices, and destroyed burrows with Agenothree, and used a flame-thrower too. I think I could face it. But I don't think I'm forceful enough to be a Queenrider."
"It doesn't always follow that you have to be forceful," said Prisca, "and you may find more in you than you realised you have if you had to step up to the mark. But given that you feel that way, would you stand for a Green if it were possible?"
"Like a gontermorra into a burrow when a Wherry is overhead," said Julyn. "But I thought Telgar didn't offer it?"
"Some of us are hoping to break that custom," said Prisca, "and are swearing to be loyal to each other whatever colour we Impress; and planning to view the other eggs covertly. Will you join with us?"
Julyn's eyes widened.
"What if we're caught?" she said.
"Beating and packed off home, I should think," said Prisca. "I think it's worth risking."
Julyn nodded.
"So do I," she said. "What do I have to do?"
"We're slipping out predawn to wait for Talmanth to hunt and slip in quietly. And I MEAN quietly. No giggling nervously or chattering."
"So you aren't including the younger girl or the one with the Seabred voice," said Julyn, dryly.
"No," said Prisca, regretfully. "I'd like to, but I think they might be… a problem."
Julyn nodded.
"I appreciate the trust you put in me," she said quietly.
"I am certain you are worthy of it," said Prisca.
It would not be as easy, now there were five girls and Storadel, to be unnoticed, but it could be done; and the wider the choice for the dragonets, the better.
She nodded to the other girls in on the secret after Julyn had stowed her belongings.
"I'm for bed, and I advise those who plan to join me for early exercises to do so too," she said.
"Early exercises? What is THIS?" declared Dailla in disgust.
"We're doing some exercises to strengthen our muscles to make shovelling firestone easier," said Daraleen, sweetly.
Dailla stared in horror.
"Shovelling firestone? Surely we are not required to do THAT?" she demanded.
"Well what do you think, that a candidate should sit about looking like a useless object like some Holder's useless brats?" said Mendra. "Dear me, Dailla, I suppose you'll be expecting klah in bed and help with dressing next!"
As Dailla DID expect klah in bed and help with dressing she stared in speechless horror that this was something that was apparently considered the epitome of foolishness.
"Well I won't do these exercises and I won't bag firestone," she said, "I will explain to whoever is in charge that I am delicately nurtured and cannot do such things."
"I wouldn't bother to unpack, then," said Prisca, bluntly. "If you're such a feeble object," – the word 'feeble' had incensed Ideena and might as well be used again – "then you won't have the strength to scrub and oil even a Green dragon, let alone a Golden Queen, who is more than twice the length, and therefore eight times the bulk and four times the area of skin to clean and oil. If you can't do the job, don't bother to waste the Weyrlingmaster's time."
Dailla glowered at Prisca in dislike; and Prisca felt a glow of pride that she had remembered the statistics T'lana had quoted to her when ticking her off for laziness, and that she had managed to use the same tone of offhand disinterest that had so galled her when T'lana had shown her amused contempt.
Dailla flounced off to her room. If the others were going to bed too, as they seemed to be, there was no point trying to fascinate the younger ones away from their stance of obedience to this awful Prisca woman without some preparation. Weyrlingmaster, this Prisca had said. Dailla had no doubt that she could wrap any man around her little finger, and get out of such awful chores, and get Prisca into trouble too!