Chapter 4
Breda was upset as well as frightened.
Amrys plainly despised her; and had almost threatened her! But she did not despise Marra, who was illegitimate and low born. It wasn't fair, and Breda didn't understand! Her father had said that now they had money, they were as good as any minor Holder and his family; and she wanted the lifestyle of a Holder's daughter! It was so strange – Lady Amrys was content to work the longer hours the apprentices must put in, and Lady Barla said her father would not want her to be idle. Surely the whole point of being rich or having position was to have others do all the work for you? It was all wrong!
Were her assumptions about the weyrfolk wrong too?
Breda approached Kelia.
"So, are you going for Impression after this turn away?" she asked.
Kelia laughed. She read honest enquiry in Breda's eyes, and determined to be honest.
"No thank you! Far too much like hard work! Flying Thread in all weathers, day or night, I'd far rather be a lower cavern woman, it's much less work!"
"Oh, but … but what if there's a Queen egg?" asked Breda.
"You got some silly half-baked idea that Queenriders don't do much, huh? You're wrong there, my dear kid. They work harder than anyone, 'cos when they're not fighting Thread they have to do the administrative stuff like Lady Holders, logistics and things, that make my head ache, as well as doing the nice to snotty idiots of Holderfolk who don't have a clue what we actually do, and seem to think we can turn out at a moment's notice to honour some table-sized Hold's piddly little function, or find a lost ovine for them. Lost people we turn out for, there's usually an unblooded Rider, even if Fall is on, like m'sister. But these fools don't realise that just because Threadfall comes every forty-nine days to any one place doesn't mean it doesn't need fighting elsewhere. It falls every fourteen hours across Pern, which means any one Weyr turns out approximately every sixty hours. And telling dimglows this tactfully, and showing them the charts when they don't understand, and hence don't believe it, is too boring! It's not for me, to have that hassle. The prospect of having a Queen dragon just isn't enough to pay for the work, in my opinion!"
"Oh!" said Breda, her illusions toppling around her. Kelia was weyrbred, and ought to know! And if someone weyrbred rejected honour as not being worth it, that was telling!
"Do, er, do you have many Ranking girls come for Queen eggs?" she asked.
Kelia rolled her eyes.
"DO we!" she said, tellingly. "They fall into two kinds, on the whole; those who are there to serve, and all respect to them, I guess, though most of them are half boy, like our Amrys. They're usually decent and well behaved beyond some of the monkey tricks the less mature get up to. Like boys. The other type have come for the wrong reasons, 'cos they've been spoilt, and badly brought up, and think that life owes them idleness and luxury, and they want to look good on a Golden Queen. And if they'd been brought up properly, they'd be used to more duties than idleness." She shot Breda a shrewd look. "You'd get shorter shrift in a weyr than we give you here," she said. "I just love laughing my guts out when some of the fancy pieces are handed shovels to bag firestone, and the looks on their faces!"
"Why do they have to shovel firestone?" Breda was horrified.
"Oh, partly to establish that candidates are the lowest of the low, having no useful skills and not having a dragon yet; and partly to develop the muscle they'll need if they do Impress. Like I said, being a dragonrider is hard physical work; even Sh'rilla, who can't walk, learned to lob firestone sacks to Blooded Riders when she was a weyrling, and swings her flamethrower around like it weighs nothing. I admire Sh'rilla no end for overcoming all that she has," said Kelia, frankly, "and her brother T'rin is a friend of my brother K'len. But I'd not want her job! I have no intention of having enough muscle mass to go flabby as I age, nor to have trouble pissing after turns of constant exposure to between! I get the best of both worlds – the good living in the Weyr, respect for being weyrfolk, sexual freedom and no heavy duties. Thought it'd be a soft life as a Queenrider, did you?" she added cynically. "I wish! If it was, I'd stand, I'd like to be idle and lazy, but I'm afraid I just don't have the time!"
oOo
Breda was feeling very confused.
Things were not as she had expected at all, and it should be going much better for her! She was better off than any of the Ranking girls here, or at least, they wore much plainer gowns! Even the Lord Holder's daughter! Though maybe Lord Bargen was just stingy as well as unreasonable about how much he expected his daughter to do!
Breda determined to watch these girls and see what it was that made someone a lady, and why they had not picked on Marra the way they picked on her!
oOo
While Breda was not making a nuisance of herself, the others were willing to ignore her; and started pairing off in friendships. Barla and Marra were never going to be close friends, though Marra appreciated Barla's kind intents towards her. Kelia and Indeela had made friends before anyone else arrived, having similar interests, and as Marra seemed content to spend time with the apprentices, Barla gravitated towards Rulene.
Both girls tended to be accident prone; and when Rulene forgot to try to be ladylike to please her mother, she was a cheerful person who suited Barla's own happy nature. They wallowed cheerfully in romantic tales of handsome dragonriders, Rulene telling the story of how their party of fosterlings found and cared for T'thar, a dragonrider from the Old Time, who had come too far forward. Rulene had done nothing practical herself, dithering in case her mother disapproved; but the situation was romantic!
"Not that Varalie – she's V'lie now – cared," she said, mournfully. "She ended up with my brother, who might have become a Bronze Rider now, but he has no soul above crap and herd improvements!"
Barla sympathised.
Brothers could be very trying, and rarely managed to be romantic, even when, like her brother Tesso, they happened to be in love; and even less so when they fell out of love. Which had happened when Tesso's beloved had been all over Bronze Rider H'llon, as if so fine and upright a man as he would be taken in by a brazen opportunist like her!
What Barla did not know was that H'llon had engineered the situation for friendship to D'rel, Tesso's milk brother, to show the girl up and rescue Tesso from his throes of infatuation. As a result the situation that Tesso had witnessed, of the girl begging H'llon to take her to the Weyr and let her care for him, the job had been effective. Had Kelia been a party to this conversation she could have filled Barla in on what had happened behind the scents, but Kelia was more interested in starting real amatory adventures, than in sighing over romantic situations of impossible matches, or hoping for a good marriage from possible matches. Kelia was certain she could land any senior apprentice or younger journeyman as a lover and wanted to see how many she could have at her beck and call!
She had an unofficial bet on the matter with Indeela; Kelia did share her brother's love of gambling, after all, and knew her own charms were not inconsiderable. Her targets were Larterel, Silger, Mellsi, Hetel, Zayven and Jerellan, who were the ones sporting senior tassels and may have been younger in some cases than Kelia realised; and Journeyman Otelek, who was the real prize. The next three youngest journeymen were around thirty turns, and as all were working weavercrafters who did not teach, she had little opportunity to even meet them, and declared they did not count.
Larterel and Silger were wary of female entanglement after the juniors had made such game of them over their poetic endeavours of the previous turn; but were flattered enough to be enticed into flirtation! Mellsi too was willing enough; Hetel saw Kelia's predatory scalp collecting for what it was and stayed out of her way, and Jerellan still found girls not apprentices too frightening to want anything to do with them. Zayven, a turn older, liked the idea of a girlfriend from the Weyr, as he was half thinking of standing when Jilamon did; but Kelia made the mistake of letting her contempt for the concept of being a Green Rider show, and laughed at Amrys for being just like a weyrbrat. Zayven liked Amrys, and he cooled a lot towards Kelia over that.
Zayven's concepts were simple.
If he Impressed, he'd want to pick a wife – weyrmate, rather – who was also Impressed, and who was at least interested in Weavercraft.
He stopped neglecting his studies for the amusement of Kelia, as she was not worth losing his chance of making Journeyman, and so he pointed out to Larterel and Silger.
Larterel had already been disappointed not to be made up to Journeyman through relying on raw ability over hard work. He took heed, politely but firmly declining invitations to walk out with Kelia when he knew he should be working. Silger told Zayven to mind his own business; he intended to have fun before he had to settle down.
Zayven shrugged.
That was Silger's own problem.
oOo
Journeyman Otelek suffered most from Kelia's determined advances; she advanced on him in class and found excuse to ask him questions out of class 'because he was so much easier to talk to than a Master,' as she cooed at him.
Thus it was that Amrys, having run a message to Journeyman Talanar, who worked at the fulling mill and loved its ingenious gears, was returning to the main Hall. She stopped dead at the sight of Journeyman Otelek dangling by his fingertips from his own bedroom window with a haunted look on his face.
"Hello!" said Amrys. "Most people use the stairs! Is it a new hobby, Journeyman, wall climbing, when there are no cliffs?"
"You pestiferous brat!" said Otelek. "Is the drop far?"
Amrys measured with her eyes.
"About a man's height," she said. "On account of the high ceilings for the tall windows. I don't think I could catch you. Shall I pile some fleeces up from the fleece room?"
"Please," said Otelek, grateful that mountain climbing had made his hands strong and that one of the few apprentices likely to have a sensible idea had happened along.
Amrys was quick with several armfulls of fleeces.
"That ought to stop you from breaking your ankle, anyway," she said. "I'll stand by to steady you."
Otelek dropped, successfully; and helped her put the fleeces back where they were stored in an outbuilding.
"I suppose you want to know why," he said, resignedly.
"Well, it's not really my place to ask, but I am overcome with insatiable curiosity," said Amrys, pulling out another good long word.
Otelek laughed.
"I was fleeing from Kelia," he admitted. "She's determined to add my scalp to her collection and apart from being mightily improper, as I am a teacher of hers, she's not my type."
"Oh!" said Amrys, in perfect understanding. "She needs to have her tush well spanked by a Bronze Rider if you ask me. You'd better not do it, though; you never know if she might enjoy it," she added darkly. "Some girls apparently do, if I understood what she and Indeela were giggling about."
Otelek went scarlet.
"Amrys! I wish you'd occasionally think before you say what's on your mind!"
"Why? Do you want to spank girls?" Amrys was interested.
"No, I don't! You … you're far too knowing sometimes!"
"Yes, I expect that's my blood-father's fault," said Amrys. "He never curbed his tongue in front of me; Corbin says if he was still alive, he'd like to wring his coarse and vulgar throat. I can get her off your back, you know."
Otelek's eyes softened in sympathy; he had heard the tale of Holder Derrinik and his iniquities.
"Can you? How?" he asked, answering her last comment.
Amrys shrugged.
"Tell her you have a hopeless passion for R'rik," she said. "She's weyrbred; she'll just accept it."
Otelek spluttered slightly.
"You … you minx!" he said.
"Yes; it's what you like about me," grinned Amrys. "Well, do you want her off your back, or not?"
Otelek swallowed.
"Yes, I do," he admitted. "So long as it doesn't ruin my future marriage prospects if it gets about!"
"Oh, have you anyone in mind?" asked Amrys, interested. "I thought you might marry Sadvia, but she and Master Telarish seem to be getting on together, so that's out."
"No, I do not have anyone in mind, you horrid brat! Thank you for rescuing me; now go away!"
Amrys ran off laughing, able to explain her tardy return with a clear conscience, as due to doing an errand for Journeyman Otelek on her way back.
She later learned that Kelia had waited several minutes outside Otelek's door, then went in boldly, convinced he was not hearing her knock; and was dismayed to find him gone!
"He likes me, of course," said Kelia, "but he's so shy! I need to break through his reserve!"
"Huh," said Amrys, going over to where Kelia was discussing this with Indeela. "You wouldn't have thought him shy if you'd seen him with R'rik, Kelia! I guess you're just not his type!"
There, she thought, and I haven't even told lies!
Kelia's look of chagrin was a treat.
"What do you mean?" asked Indeela.
"He only likes other men," said Kelia, regretfully. "What a waste! Like your D'vind and Ch'sseri."
"I don't follow you," said Indeela.
"Well, you know! D'vind and Ch'sseri are lovers, weyrmates, like being married!" said Kelia, a little impatiently.
"Two men together? As in for sex? How?" asked Indeela.
"Uh … I'll explain when the kiddy isn't earwigging," said Kelia, flushing. "She's too young to understand."
"Huh, I know all about it," said Amrys. "The dominant man …"
"Never mind," said Kelia, hastily. "You're precocious, you – go and find something useful to do."
Amrys went off whistling to herself reflecting that she had already done something useful.
Journeyman Otelek would have no more trouble from Kelia.
oOo
Kelia was less disappointed than she had been over losing two admirers and finding that Otelek was not going to be one, when she started getting the notes.
Letters were slipped into her bag, or under the dormitory door; and they read along the lines of 'you do not know who admires you from afar but you set my heart aflame.'
Jeral had gone to a lot of trouble to create notes ambiguous enough and intriguing enough to make Kelia take them seriously; and in consequence she was looking around the table in the dining hall to see who might catch her eye and blush or look away. Was it one of the other younger journeymen? Or handsome Master Rakul? The angelically fair Lacemaster's regular good looks and big blue eyes almost made her add him to her list, had she not been aware that tampering with the feelings of important people like Masters might not be politic.
Kelia's heart raced at the thought of a secret admirer, and when she got the note suggesting an assignation in the fleece room, a glorified lean-to, outside the main hall, she was almost sick with anticipation!
Kelia was, however, shrewder than many.
She asked Indeela to come as far as the fleece room and wait outside; she had no intention of letting any man take too many liberties until she was ready for them!
oOo
Indeela was nervous. Suppose some man tried to rape her friend? What was she supposed to do? Should she rush in and try to beat him off? Would she be able to do so? Kelia was so awfully brave, thought Indeela, to risk a fate worse than death!
Kelia herself was nervous; but at least half of it was a pleasurable nervousness! Her worst fear was that her secret admirer might turn out to be Torhal, Torghan's half-wit cousin, who helped in the kitchen. Torhal was at an age where his face was a mass of spots that he made more unsightly by picking at them; and he made Kelia shudder. But he could not seriously have managed to write such literate notes.
Kelia went into the shed.
There was the sound of movement in its dark depths. Really, the fellow might have brought glows! Thought Kelia, crossly.
"Hello?" she said. "Are you here?"
That was a stupid question. Why didn't he speak? She could hear heavy breathing, and suddenly felt frightened. She turned to go, and stumbled into a warm body.
A warm woolly body.
Kelia yelled, and fled; followed by a bleating and confused ovine, who had been incarcerated in the fleece room by a giggling trio of little boys about an hour earlier.
Indeela started shrieking too, in sympathy; and a crowd quickly gathered.
"Kelia! What are you doing?" demanded Otaysa.
"Oh Otaysa! There … there was an ovine in the fleece room!" stuttered Kelia, realising what it was she had had so close an encounter with.
"And whatever were you doing in the fleece room, young lady?" demanded Otaysa, giving the girl a shrewd look as Kelia stuttered and blushed. "Well, you'd better bath: you stink of wether-ovine," said Otaysa.
oOo
Kelia got one more note, in the form of a poem.
"I laid my heart into your hand
And you, me dharlin', held it
And then I bleated plaintively,
I fear,
Me dear,
I'm gelded."
Kelia crumpled it into a ball and threw it hard at the apprentices who were laughing loudest.
