Chapter 2

Barla, the daughter of Lord Bargen seemed a nice enough girl, with a mop of ginger hair in unruly plaits. She got off the dragon that brought her with more haste than grace and promptly fell over her own feet.

From the resigned look on her freckled face she was used to being clumsy. She grinned ruefully at Amrys.

"My feet don't always seem to listen when I give them orders," she said.

"Well, so long as your fingers listen when the Masters give them orders you should be all right," said Amrys, cheerfully. "I think it's called being coltish and gets grown out of. I've got it to look forward to."

"That's what my mother says," said Barla. "And it's why I'm here, really, and make new friends. He knows fine well I'd irritate the Masters of High Reaches Hold, even though Master Varik got recalled to Southern Boll. Apparently H'llon speaks highly of your Master Lynger, and Father thinks H'llon is what they had in mind when they invented Bronze Riders."

"My!" said Amrys. "You can out-talk me, with about as much tact, too! I like you already, and I do agree with your father about H'llon. Barla, will you do me a favour?"

"Yes, of course," said Barla, blushing at Amrys' forthright comment, but grinning too.

"There's a kid, only thirteen turns, named Marra; sponsored on merit. Keep an eye on her for me – she's shy," said Amrys. "You don't seem like you're silly over clothes, men, or other crackdust, so you'll like her better than the other idiots anyway."

"I see what you mean about your own tact," said Barla. "Of course I'll look out for her! H'llon believes in promotion by merit! He's so handsome too; it's a pity he's as good as married."

She sighed gustily and Amrys suppressed a shudder. She obviously was sillier than at first she appeared!

Amrys did Barla a slight injustice in that thought; Barla liked the idea of being in love with a handsome Bronze Rider, but was wise enough to realise deep down that the reality might actually be less romantic than the dream. And she had no desire to try for Impression, so she enjoyed the pleasant feelings that H'llon aroused in her from a safe distance!

H'llon would have been horrified had he realised how many young girls wriggled pleasurably with highly coloured and mostly inaccurate imaginings of what they might like to do with him; the majority would have turned shy if he actually even spoke to them!

oOo

The final girl also wore no knots; but whereas Marra had been well enough dressed in sensible garb, this one was over-dressed in expensive fabrics. She had pretty eyes in a pale face, but her mousy hair was rather lank, even though plainly dressed by someone who was an expert. She looked at Amrys' knots and dropped a curtsey that she seemed to pull short of the deep curtsey she had started.

"Oh my lady! How naice to meet you!" she gushed. "My name's Breda, and I'm afraid I'm not quaite of your Rank, but my father has done so very well, you know, he's very well thought of where we come from!"

Amrys nodded.

"For my own part, I'm less bothered by Rank than whether you're going to have a good time learning weavercraft," she said, coolly, trying to force herself not to withdraw from the sycophantic tone. This one was quite young, too, almost as young as Marra. Perhaps they'd be allies, if the fawning act was just that, an act. Amrys knew that some people put on false fronts when confronted with the Ranking or with Dragonfolk. She went on, "We have a number of rules for the paying students; Master Lynger asked me to greet all of you and tell you what our rules for you all are,"

"Oh, of course, My Lady!" the girl giggled inanely.

"My rules first," said Amrys, grimly. "I'm apprentice Amrys; I just happen to Rank. Nobody takes any notice of my Rank, and I'm only using it to prevent any crackdust from those who think it matters a shard if they have a father who might be someone with position. So drop the 'my lady' fork-juice, or I shan't talk to you at all bar listing the rules."

"Oh! If you wish it … Amrys," the girl smirked, and Amrys realised that she had made a mistake; this was one who took liberties.

Too late now, and it was a lesson Amrys would remember.

She listed the rules carefully; and explained in great detail, twice, the rules which seemed to confuse Breda, such as safety regulations.

"You are just too kind, Amrys!" simpered Breda. Amrys repressed a shudder.

"No kindness, just part of my duties," said Amrys, firmly.

In a turn, this one would be saying to someone she hoped to impress, 'well I was chatting with Lady Amrys of Rivenhill…. Amrys is so kind' and things like that.

Maybe Kelia would knock her corners off.

Kelia was an idiot about some things, but she had her head screwed on about relative worth!

oOo

Amrys dismissed the paying students from her mind and went back to her lessons.

"Bad?" asked Journeyman Otelek, who was assisting Master Braelek in teaching measurement for pattern drafting.

"Worse," said Amrys, gloomily.

oOo

Amrys discussed the girls with her own coterie later, and included the younger girls in the discussion, crowded into what had become the girls' corner of the common room.

"The older ones won't really be a problem for us, however," she said. "They're daft, but I should think harmless, unless you're male, grown up and good looking. And you lot," she nodded to the male apprentices of her intimates, "only count on one of those criteria."

"Oy!" said Hetel.

"Which do you think he's querying, the grown up, or the good looking?" asked Kevanna.

"Sure, and it doesn't matter, for he fails on both," said Lyssa, beaming at Hetel.

Hetel tweaked her nose, gently.

"Brat," he said, lazily.

Jeral, Kyilin and Larek were exchanging looks.

"There might be some fun to be had, though, for sure," said Jeral. "Amrys, me dharlin' ghirl, have y'still got some of those poems Larterel wrote last Turn?"

"Yes, and I use the paper to copy knitting patterns onto, on the back," said Amrys. "Waste not, want not. You're a bad man, Jeral, and if you borrow them you can buy your own paper to copy on; I want my knitting patterns back. Anyway, you could probably write better, if you're up to what I think you're up to."

Jeral grinned.

"Sure, I can, me dharlin' but it's the style I'm wantin' t'study for the air of romance."

"I'm not sure the air of romance around those pieces of crackdust isn't rancid," said Amrys.

"Who were you thinking of setting which one up with?" asked Larek.

Jeral leaned over and whispered in his friend's ear and Larek gave a crack of laughter.

"Horrid boys, our masters and journeymen are far too nice to make game of them!" said Amrys severely.

"Don't worry, it's none of our people," chuckled Larek. "It's a bonza idea, Jeral!"

Jeral had also whispered to Kyilin, whose eyes went wide, and he, too, started laughing.

Amrys rolled her eyes.

"Oh dear!" she said. "Well, ignoring these crazy idiots, will you girls help out if we get Marra made an apprentice?"

"Oh, of course!" said Bretine. "We'll have to split the dormitory of course."

"Yes, us three senior ones will either have to move, or we'll have to have the partition down," said Amrys. "Me, I'm in favour of having the partition down; but when we're all older, it'll be tedious for both us and younger girls, as we'd find it tedious right now with big ones."

"We'll need an upper Green dormitory at some point, I guess; if we get three girls a turn we'd soon overflow it anyway," said Kevanna.

"D… do you mind if I say something?" asked Clareena. She had become a much happier girl since confessing to Amrys how she had destroyed the other girls' work in a fit of jealous anger; and only Amrys, who had lost the most work, knew it had been she. The rest had been told by Master Lynger that the culprit had confessed to him and was to be given a second chance as the said apprentice was truly sorry, and this they had accepted. Clareena adored Amrys with a grateful adoration that could be wearing, and which the others interpreted as the gratitude over having had her life saved by Amrys in a blizzard.

Amrys smiled kindly.

"Of course we don't mind! Go right ahead, our kid!"

Clareena was several months older than Amrys, of which she had no idea as Amrys had the assurance of a girl at least a turn older than herself. Reassured, Clareena went on,

"Breda – there's something about her that reminds me of Bettana, who was so mean to me in the Hold. Bettana put on airs and graces because her father was better off than the rest of our parents – he's a marksman – and she sucked up to important people. She took liberties if given half a chance, like you say this Breda did … I guess she might bully, too."

"Hmm!" said Amrys. "That's good logicator work. People often do act in the same way if they're similar characters. She craves attention, too, I'd say. Well, Clareena, you just volunteered to keep a sharp eye on Marra; because you'll recognise the signs of that sly sort of bullying. I'm well acquainted with unsubtle violence, but I've no knowledge how girls bully."

Clareena flushed with pleasure to be trusted.

"Do … do you think I can?" she asked.

"Oh, yes!" said Amrys. "And you're the only one who can, too. Besides, I scare Marra because she's shy; she needs someone a bit gentler and less, er, effervescent than me to make friends with."

It would also give Clareena a special friend at her own level of training, near enough; and relieve Amrys of quite as much responsibility!

oOo

Clareena had guessed correctly.

Otaysa had taken Breda to meet the others, telling her kindly,

"And this is Marra, who I believe comes from the same Hold as you; I expect as you're close to each other in age, you may like to be friends." She smiled and left the girls to it.

Breda stared at Marra.

"So this is where you got to!" she said.

"I heard your father did well. Congratulations," said Marra, rather stiffly.

Breda came and plumped herself down beside Marra.

"So, how come you're here?" she asked, softly.

"Lady Varilka thought I should be trained further," said Marra. "She sponsored me here."

Breda gave a harsh laugh.

"Well, that's cheek, to train her serving drudge amongst ladies!"

Marra flushed.

"You're not a lady yourself – you're only rich because your father won all that at the races!"

Breda waved an airy hand.

"Marks talk! And Pa knows how to invest well, you can bet, so we'll be richer still! And I'll have a turn here, and a turn in the Harper Hall so I know all the things a lady knows, and then I'll marry a Holder. Maybe even a LORD Holder!" she tossed her mousy locks, which were coming undone from the expensive coiffure. "And I think I resent a drudge brat being here. So you'd better fulfil your function and drudge for me – or I'll tell the other girls what you are!"

Marra stared at her in horror.

This had all taken place in an undertone whilst the older girls were discussing clothes, uninterested in the younger two.

"You … you wouldn't!" Marra said. "Then I could tell them back that your father's only a trader who's a lucky gambler!"

"Oh, but that's the point – he's lucky. And I'm rich. It counts, you know! And at least he has a craft – not like your father. If you even know who your father is!" she sneered.

Marra did not.

Her mother had been reticent about her conception and Marra strongly suspected that she had been a child of rape.

Tears started to her eyes.

"Now don't you start looking like a wet seventhday or I'll give you something to cry about," said Breda, pinching Marra sharply. "You'll only draw attention to yourself – and then it'll come out! And what's more, if you don't do what I tell you, I'd even go to Lady Amrys. She asked me to call her Amrys, you know; why she wants to be an apprentice and pretend to lay her Rank aside, I don't know, but she's Lady Holder of the Hold here, her mother's only the Warder. And she'd have you packed off home in no time for coming here under false pretences, and making like you're a decent person!"

Marra stared.

Amrys had introduced herself to her just by her name, without honourific; and had been friendly. And she already knew Marra's background and was still friendly.

"I think you wrong Amrys for thinking her to be so shallow," she said, greatly daring. "She's not a snob at all you know!"

"It's not for the likes of you to use her name!" Breda gave her another vicious nip.

"Why not, when she asked me to?" Marra flushed with her own daring in standing up to Bresa.

"Huh, she thinks you're someone, I expect, not the nobody you really are!" Breda was speaking louder in anger that Marra should defy her.

Kelia got up and strolled over.

"Now then, Breda, or whatever your name is, do I have Rank pulling? We're not going to do that here, it's extremely ill bred. We're here to learn weavercraft, not to run a hold, so put a plug in it."

Breda took in the triangular knots of a weyrchild – Kelia normally wore support staff knots, considering herself adult, but had acceded to her brother's suggestion in this – and simpered.

Allies in the Weyr would be handy.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, weyrwoman! Of course, dragons choose on other merits, don't they!" she said.

"Yes," said Kelia, shortly, "And it's Kelia. No titles."

She went back to her friends before she slapped the simpering face as she itched to do!