Moura's approval of the arrangement with Mirith may have been more out of necessity than propriety. She bustled around with an energy that caused her to double check everything. With the extra devoted care, tasks seemed to take longer than usual, so she gratefully relied on G'ny's careful observations throughout her time at at the Weyr. G'ny reassured her on multiple occasions of the way routine assignments were done. They were simple things, such as the rotation for properly battening down the shutters for impending snowfall, which was more and more frequent as the cold winter days set in. G'ny supposed Moura was making up for the inattention that had led to Allika's ascension. In the little over a fortnight since Moura had sanctioned the improvised custody of the eggs, she must have built up faith in the operation, as she approached G'ny with an unexpected request.
"I know the timing of this is not ideal with eggs on the Sands, but G'ny, with Mirith able to tend the eggs, do you think you could accompany the tithe from Tillek? Tillek was one of the Holds on M'tou's route, but I'm afraid he is too busy with his new Weyrleader duties. As one of our largest and most important Holds, it is best that the expedition be led by a rider in whom the Weyrleader trusts, and you journeyed to Tillek Gathers as a child, did you not?"
"I did, sure thing. What are the details?" G'ny responded dutifully, honored to hear the Weyrwoman's trust in her reaffirmed. It was important to ward off resentment with personal relationships and added services to uphold this time-honored relationship in such peaceful times. Although the Weyrs reduced their strain on the Holders by tending small farming and livestock operations, the rocky, arid Weyr real estate was limited in the resources it could provide. Besides, when Thread finally deigned to fall, the Holders needed to be in the practice of providing supplies. High Reaches prided itself on still providing value to the Holds even in the absence of Thread. Although watch-whers and harper drums provided effective security and communication, many Lord Holders happily accepted the more immediate and versatile assurance of a posted dragonrider. As such, High Reaches would rotate their dragonriders to the Holds, usually in three day shifts in the ongoing crusade for hearts and minds. Of course, more riders would be sent when it came time to collect large tithe loads.
"You'll be headed out midday tomorrow. Lawana will have a tithe list for you to pick up on your way out - mostly barreled fish from Tillek, you know. Tillek usually prides itself on hosting riders overnight and having everything packed for an early departure the next morning. Brownriders R'nan and T'mosen are set to accompany you. Given your history with R'nan, do you think this arrangement will work?"
"I think we reached a mutual understanding, last we left it. Saleneth has proven herself more than capable of handling Branth." G'ny assessed. He's a good dragon, just needs a little guidance sometimes, Saleneth piped in.
"I'm glad to hear it. T'mosen will be good buffer between the two of you - very efficient and level-headed. He is one of our primary dragonriders posted at Tillek and has good relations with many of the people there. The two of them have done this route many times before, so imagine it will run smoothly with T'mosen taking lead." Moura volunteered as if to answer to G'ny's silent question. She did not know much about the other brownrider at all, although she could recognize his tall, square-shouldered figure from when she had observed it cutting across the Bowl before. He was a terse, experienced Wingsecond under M'tou's wing. His demeanor quickly put G'ny at ease when he greeted the trio in the courtyard just after the midday meal the next day.
"G'ny, good to finally be working with you," T'mosen, grasping her forearm and initiating the traditional dragonrider greeting firmly. R'nan, meanwhile, kept his eyes cast downward, not daring to make eye contact with G'ny. "Alright, let's mount up. Twiseth will send coordinates presently."
The sea breeze was refreshing as the trio emerged over the water, the Tillek coastline extending in front of them, the point that sheltered the Tillek harbor to the west framing the right hand side of their view. Although it was not high season, there was still plenty of activity around the loading docks. Still other boats were moored off the shore a ways, some presumably waiting their turn to load and unload, while others resided there on the regular. Many flew the dark blue reversed lattice flag that marked them as local fisherman, but G'ny also saw the bright red chevrons from Southern Boll, likely bringing in woven textiles and flashes of orange from Ista, the treasures of each ship's hold G'ny could only speculate. The trio kept in tight formation as they glided easily to a sandy stretch central to the port. A crowd quickly gathered around them, from which a wiry man with a jet black beard, eyebrows to match, and a traditional sun hat with a blue and white checkered band worn by Tillek locals strode forward.
"Welcome to Tillek, we've been expecting you. T'mosen, R'nan, good to see you," the man said, grasping each brownrider's forearm in turn. "And who do we have here? Surely High Reaches has not troubled its Weyrwoman with a routine tithe trip? Me, I am Jonderan, eldest son of Lord Holder Olleran, who sends his regards, and awaits you in the Hold proper. My father is just not up to coming out himself these days, unfortunately." Jonderan introduced himself, with a wry smile as he mentioned his father.
"G'ny, rider of green, um… gold…, goldish-green Saleneth, formerly of Radharc - I used to come here as a child for Gathers," G'ny introduced herself, also extending an arm, reverting to the titles she had always known, while fingering the knots on her shoulder uncertainly. Saleneth might be queen material, but was she really a gold? If so, it was a title to which G'ny certainly was not accustomed.
"Ah, greenish-goldrider, welcome. I wasn't sure, as in this bright sunlight, I would swear those are rays golden like the sun reflecting off her." Jonderan said to her, a playful glint in his eye. "Please, follow me to inspect the goods you will be taking back to your Weyr."
The entourage headed eastward across the wharf from the sandy landing on which they had alighted. Without the threat of Thread, the area was a lively center of activity, a crowning gem of the Fishercrafthall, where fishcatchers, seamen, and shipwrights alike mingled. It was a scenic stroll along the waterfront to which Jonderan treated his guests. When her family had come for Gathers, G'ny rarely got to venture to this side of the Hold, as her family, coming from Radharc, approached from the southeast. G'ny was assaulted by the overpowering smell of fish that wafted throughout the space. Although G'ny could feel her nose flaring ever so slightly in response, she managed to keep her reactions subtle, unlike R'nan next to her, whose nose wrinkled, contorting his face to an even uglier shape. The preparation of fish of all sizes and colors played out under canvas tents that were set back only a few dragonslengths back from the wharf. The largest operations strung up enormous catches on hooks suspended from long skybroom beams, while craftsmen bearing journeyman's knots and above worked at them with long, thin knives. Apprentice knots were much more common at the tables serving the smaller specimens.
They continued into the Hold proper, through a side passageway into the Hold stores. G'ny was grateful that her nose had deadened to the constant assault when they reached the appropriate cavern, as she was sure the smell must linger around the contents of the room. Stacked along the walls and in great aisles was where barrels packed with prepared fish were stored.
"One flat of dried, two flats smoked, two barrels pickled, and three barrels salted for this round, correct?" Jonderan suggested. A quick look down at the ledger G'ny had brought confirmed this order, and she nodded affirmatively. Jonderan quickly dispatched his men to transport the indicated quantities of fish.
"Of course, as guests, you will be feasting on freshly grilled fish tonight. Come, did you catch a glimpse of the catch we were planning to serve tonight?" Jonderan called over his shoulder with excitement as the group returned the way they came, following Jonderan back out into the sunlight to a tent set away from the rest. "Here we are, caught fresh this morning, Masterfisher Callan, show us what you've caught!"
A weathered man with white hair stood next to a rounded fish his same height. He had already set to work on it with one of those long, thin knives, so G'ny had a revealing view of both the interior and exterior of the fish. The man gestured obligingly. The scales on the outside alternated in broad stripes of tan and dark gray, while the fleshy interior was a rich orangey-pink. The dragonriders paused to marvel appreciatively.
"While the final preparations are made on that fish, let's take a hike up to your old stomping grounds, the Gather Meadow!" Jonderan suggested, winking at G'ny. The man's energy was admirable as he paraded his guests around the Hold and its environs. They ascended a broad pathway that snaked around the mountain that housed the Hold, up to a large steppe that had been carved into the exterior face. From this elevation, G'ny had a vantage of the ocean that disappeared into the horizon. The large clearing was mostly empty without the bustle of an ongoing Gather, but there were distinctive patches worn into the grass where stalls had been set up and footpaths established. From these footprints, her imagination recreated the Gather scenes that were so positively ingrained in her memory. G'ny cast a covert, friendly smile at R'nan's not-so-subtle gulping of the fresh air of the Meadow, also relieved to be out in the breeze again. He smiled back sheepishly at her. Perhaps the two could have a friendship of sorts.
The meal was every bit delightful as Jonderan had promised. The savory yellow-stripe was grilled to perfection and paired beautifully with roasted allium, sweet potato that had been cubed, tossed with an herb glaze, and also roasted, as well as a choice of Tillek's famous wines. Although G'ny generally preferred the heartiness of the Tillek reds, especially cultivated for their bold taste back at the Weyr, she preferred the way the lighter, white wine paired with this particular meal. Jonderan's assumption of his father's hosting duties made sense when G'ny observed the older man. Lord Holder Olleran was all but deaf in his left ear and the cloudiness of his corneas indicated his sight couldn't be much better. He conducted himself with dignity, graciously accepting the aid of his family and holders. An aura of relaxed contentedness settled over the dining hall long before the wizened patriarch retired for the night.
"You know, M'tou has spoken highly of a holder-born Gendine, that's you, isn't it? I didn't want to seem presumptuous when we first met." Jonderan had stretched out to drape his arm behind G'ny's chair, next to him. "I am glad to finally meet you, you certainly do not disappoint. So tell me about life in the Weyr, what's your favorite part?" Jonderan leaned in to listen intently. G'ny humored Jonderan for most of the meal, knowing the importance of Weyr-Hold relations.
"I think it would be best for us dragonriders to retire to our quarters. Would one of your women drudges be around to show G'ny to her quarters?" R'nan inquired helpfully, noisily clattering his chair backwards from two spots down, turning towards G'ny and Jonderan, and clearing his throat. It was indeed getting late. T'mosen had already taken his leave. R'nan courteously helped G'ny to her feet from her chair. "Careful with that one, chivalrous and all, he is always looking for a body to share his bed since his second wife died half a Turn back. Given our history and your imminent position in the Weyr, I am going to assume you have no intention of role playing Tillek's future Lady Holder tonight?" R'nan debriefed her under his breath as he leaned in to take her hand. G'ny looked up at him gratefully for his assessment and handling of the situation. Jonderan beckoned and a woman came forward.
"Canna can show each of you to your rooms, if that's what you would like," Jonderan eyeing G'ny hopefully under R'nan's watchful eye.
"Oh, yes, thank you so much for all of your hospitality, goodnight Jonderan," G'ny replied cheerfully.
"Consider this a stab at redemption; I know I have a lot to make up to you." R'nan added quietly before they parted ways.
G'ny could still smell the fish upon her when she landed back at the Weyr. Her barrels stowed away in the cellars, she headed to the bathing pool to thoroughly scrub down and suggested that Saleneth do the same in the lake. Their morning had gone about as expected - all of the tithe had been packed up without incident. Their breakfast of toasted bread and a bland fish stew sat satisfyingly in G'ny's stomach long through the afternoon. It was about mid-afternoon when she finally felt her stomach tugging at her again, so she wandered into the kitchen to check into Lawana's stock of pastries.
"Oh yes, over there - the most recent batch of bubbly pies has been done for about an hour." Lawana called over her shoulder to the silent inquiry of G'ny's entry. G'ny wasn't sure the woman had even seen her. "I've seen how a proper meal by those fishmongers keep you riders full through the midday meal til right about now. Nothing like a sweet pie to counter the savory dishes they serve," Lawana explained absentmindedly. A dozen individual-sized bubbly pies stood on the cooling racks next to the great oven. Sure enough, T'mosen had sauntered in behind G'ny and was reaching for a perfect-temperatured bubbly pie. They seemed to be a hit to those who were privy to their existence, as yet another figure entered the kitchen - the Weyrwoman herself had cycled in, raising her brows in acknowledgment, and quickly returning to the duties from which she had just excused herself.