badly scored but alive.
Jayge counted himself and Fairex very lucky indeed when he had time to think about anything but the appalling tragedy. His mother seemed scarcely to realize the loss of her two youngest children. She kept looking about her, a puzzled frown on her face. Even before Crenden had made the decision to seek help from Kimmage Hold, she had begun to cough, a soft, apologetic cough.
The second morning, with patched harness and wagons still damp, the Lilcamps turned back to Kimmage Hold. It was an uphill journey, hard on animals with open sores on their backs, and on people weighed down by grief and despair. Jayge led his little mare as she trudged patiently with Borel’s three small weeping children on her back. Their mother had shielded them from a tangle of Thread that had eaten her to the bone before her lifeless form had slid into the pool, drowning the voracious organism. Challer had died trying to protect his prize team.
“I don’t understand it, Brother,” Jayge heard his Uncle Readis murmur to his father as they trudged up the road. “Why did Childon not send someone to help us?”
“We survived without them,” Crenden said emotionlessly.
“I can’t call the loss of seven people and most of our wagons ‘survival,’ Cren!” His voice was rough with anger. “Simple decency requires Childon—”
“Simple decency flew out of the hold when Thread fell. You heard that dragonrider, clear as I did!”
“But . . . I heard Childon beg you to stay. Surely they’ll need us more now.”
Crenden gave his younger brother a long cynical stare and then shrugged, plodding along in boots that had split open with the wear of the last few days. Jayge squirmed inside himself, and his hand went to his little hoard of credits. There would be no new saddle now. Other things would be needed more. Young as he was, Jayge knew that everything had abruptly altered. And young as he was, he also recognized the essential injustice that Childon, and all Kimmage Holders, imposed on the Lilcamps when they returned. Where before they had been honored guests, valuable partners in a logging venture, the Lilcamps had lost most of their assets—wagons, livestock, and tools.
“I’ve my own folk, beholden to me, to provide for now, for the fifty long Turns this Pass will last. I can’t take in any holdless and improvident family to apply to me,” Childon said, never once looking Crenden straight in the eye. “You’ve wounded and sick, and kids too young to be useful. Your stock’s all injured. Take time and medicine to heal ’em. I’ve got to provide ground crews for every Fall, to support not only Igen Weyr but Benden when they call on us. I’m going to be hard-pressed to look after my own. You must understand my position.”
For one long hopeful moment, Jayge thought his father was going to storm indignantly out of the hold. Then Gledia coughed, trying to smother it in her hand. That was the moment, Jayge later decided, when his father capitulated. His wide shoulder sagged and he bowed his head. “I do understand your position, Holder Childon.”
“Well, just so’s you understand, we’ll see how things go on. You can bed down in the beasthold. I lost a lot of stock that’re going to be very hard to replace. I’ll talk about compensation for yours later, for I can’t waste fodder on the useless, not with Thread falling I can’t.”
No Lilcamp was really surprised when Readis, unwilling to accept such humiliation, left during the night. For many nights afterward, Jayge had nightmares involving dragon eyes shooting fire lances through his uncle’s twisting, bloody body. Later that spring, Jayge’s hoarded credits helped pay the healer for Gledia’s treatment. But Gledia died before full summer, while all the ablebodied men, including Jayge, were out as ground crew.
2
North Telgar Hold to Igen Hold,
Present Pass, 02.04.12
T HELLA HEARD ABOUT the spring Gather at Igen Hold
Jayge counted himself and Fairex very lucky indeed when he had time to think about anything but the appalling tragedy. His mother seemed scarcely to realize the loss of her two youngest children. She kept looking about her, a puzzled frown on her face. Even before Crenden had made the decision to seek help from Kimmage Hold, she had begun to cough, a soft, apologetic cough.
The second morning, with patched harness and wagons still damp, the Lilcamps turned back to Kimmage Hold. It was an uphill journey, hard on animals with open sores on their backs, and on people weighed down by grief and despair. Jayge led his little mare as she trudged patiently with Borel’s three small weeping children on her back. Their mother had shielded them from a tangle of Thread that had eaten her to the bone before her lifeless form had slid into the pool, drowning the voracious organism. Challer had died trying to protect his prize team.
“I don’t understand it, Brother,” Jayge heard his Uncle Readis murmur to his father as they trudged up the road. “Why did Childon not send someone to help us?”
“We survived without them,” Crenden said emotionlessly.
“I can’t call the loss of seven people and most of our wagons ‘survival,’ Cren!” His voice was rough with anger. “Simple decency requires Childon—”
“Simple decency flew out of the hold when Thread fell. You heard that dragonrider, clear as I did!”
“But . . . I heard Childon beg you to stay. Surely they’ll need us more now.”
Crenden gave his younger brother a long cynical stare and then shrugged, plodding along in boots that had split open with the wear of the last few days. Jayge squirmed inside himself, and his hand went to his little hoard of credits. There would be no new saddle now. Other things would be needed more. Young as he was, Jayge knew that everything had abruptly altered. And young as he was, he also recognized the essential injustice that Childon, and all Kimmage Holders, imposed on the Lilcamps when they returned. Where before they had been honored guests, valuable partners in a logging venture, the Lilcamps had lost most of their assets—wagons, livestock, and tools.
“I’ve my own folk, beholden to me, to provide for now, for the fifty long Turns this Pass will last. I can’t take in any holdless and improvident family to apply to me,” Childon said, never once looking Crenden straight in the eye. “You’ve wounded and sick, and kids too young to be useful. Your stock’s all injured. Take time and medicine to heal ’em. I’ve got to provide ground crews for every Fall, to support not only Igen Weyr but Benden when they call on us. I’m going to be hard-pressed to look after my own. You must understand my position.”
For one long hopeful moment, Jayge thought his father was going to storm indignantly out of the hold. Then Gledia coughed, trying to smother it in her hand. That was the moment, Jayge later decided, when his father capitulated. His wide shoulder sagged and he bowed his head. “I do understand your position, Holder Childon.”
“Well, just so’s you understand, we’ll see how things go on. You can bed down in the beasthold. I lost a lot of stock that’re going to be very hard to replace. I’ll talk about compensation for yours later, for I can’t waste fodder on the useless, not with Thread falling I can’t.”
No Lilcamp was really surprised when Readis, unwilling to accept such humiliation, left during the night. For many nights afterward, Jayge had nightmares involving dragon eyes shooting fire lances through his uncle’s twisting, bloody body. Later that spring, Jayge’s hoarded credits helped pay the healer for Gledia’s treatment. But Gledia died before full summer, while all the ablebodied men, including Jayge, were out as ground crew.
2
North Telgar Hold to Igen Hold,
Present Pass, 02.04.12
T HELLA HEARD ABOUT the spring Gather at Igen Hold
Similar Books
