Chap. 288 The Settlers

Chap. 288 The Settlers

It felt good to be back on a horse.

Siskin on his shoulder, he was riding alongside Mardriss and Burt, the cothold’s chief herdsman. They were moving easily, not pressing the cattle too hard, just yet. The herd bull contemplated their entering his kingdom, then realized what was about to occur.

“I want to move this herd to that northwest pasture. It’s had a nice long rest, and when we finish, Burt, let’s put the draft horse stallion and his girls in this one,” Mardriss had said.

“Like me dad used to say, “horses after cattle,” Burt said. “That stud, he’s a smart one, K’ndar, all we have to do is tell him what we want. We’ll have to hustle the cattle but all we needs do is leave the gate open and tell the lead mare to move themselves.”

K’ndar said. He could see the stallion and several draft mares, waiting patiently in another pasture. Two had half grown foals at side. “He’s a beauty! You had him the last time I was here, correct?”

“Yes, and two of Lizard’s horses. I bartered those two after they’d had a nice long summer on the range. See those two fillies, they’re behind the foals? I got them in the barter. I think they’ll do well with the stallion. He’s a bit long in the back, and they’re a bit short, so, we’ll see if it all balances out. They settled right away. He’s a good stallion.”

“He is. Lamb gentle. I’ve known some horses that are mean without any reason,” Burt said. He turned his horse to the right and trotted to flank the cow herd.

“Sort of like people, you know? Hi, you, cow, move on,” Mardriss called at a cow that was far from her herd. He rattled his whip handle on his saddle and the cow trotted towards her herdmates. “K’ndar, would you be so kind as to go open the far gate?”

“Aye, sir!” He touched his heels to the horse and cantered towards the far gate. He opened it from the saddle, using the hook on the end of his whip. Then he raised a hand, signifying it was open.

He remembered, long ago-it seemed a lifetime ago-when the fence was made of withes, and a bull had crashed through it trying to escape Thread. The bull had died, mired in the only bit of marsh on the entire ranch.

Those were bad days, he thought. He’d roped the bull, only to be pulled off when his rotted girth snapped. Hanliss, you were always a skinflint. I could have broken my neck and all because you were so bloody cheap.

A world without his father was a better one in every way.

Where was I? Raventh and Rath had moved further out onto the steppe to allow the herds to be moved.

You weren’t even a gleam in your sire’s eye. That was just before I was Searched.

I wasn’t an egg?

Not then. It was soon after, though

Where are you before you are an egg?

Raventh, I don’t know. These are questions I just don’t have answers for

Burt and Mardriss unlimbered their whips.Once they saw K’ndar at the gate, Mardriss whistled. He and Burt put their horses into a trot towards the cows. Their horses knew their business. All it took was for the geldings to lower their head with ears flattened and the subject cow moved closer to her herd mates. The herd bull shook his horns in irritation. Burt popped his whip and the cows began to trot, the bull following. He tried to dart to the left, but Mardriss’s whip convinced him to stay behind the cows. They picked up speed, the two men flanking them, funneling them through the gate. Within twenty minutes the entire herd had passed through. K’ndar shut it and rode back to join the others.

A rush of satisfaction ran through him. I love being a dragonrider, but the feeling of this, this acceptance from his family and the hands, was wonderful. No one here even thought to ask him if he knew what to do, as he’d had to prove to Nyala, the Weyr’s Masterherdsman. Here, it was just accepted, as natural as breathing. You get on a horse and move thirty cattle without touching them.

“By the egg, Mard, you’ve done a job putting up rock walls. They’re stout.”

“Aye, K’ndar, but woof, they come at a price. Rocks are heavy.”

Burt laughed. “And I hope you note, K’ndar, the big pond where the marsh was small? That’s where the rocks came from. Every night, my wife beat on me for bringing half the steppe in on my boots.”

The former marsh had filled with water from the rains. It was covered with birds and wherries. It was proving to be a haven for them.

He laughed. “She must be formidable to be able to beat YOU.”

“Naw. Not beat in reality. Just refused to feed me.”

They all laughed. “That’s a fate worse’n death, Burt. Cooky is the best,” Mard laughed.

Mardriss and Burt pulled up. Mardriss pointed at the pasture with the draft horses. “Now we’ll do that one, K’ndar. And by the way, there are two oxen in with the horses. Keep them in the pasture until I tell you to let them out with the horses.”

“Aye,” K’ndar said, wondering, and rode to the gate that held the draft horses back.

The stallion had the herd waiting. K’ndar opened the gate and said, “After you, sir.” The stallion looked at him. K’ndar swore the horse winked. The lead mare led the way and within a few moments, the move was complete. He saw two oxen walking slowly towards the gate. He shut the gate behind him so they could not follow the horses. He positioned his horse so they wouldn’t approach the gate any closer. Burt and Mardriss came cantering up.

K’ndar took a second look at the oxen. And was appalled.

“Mard, what in the name of Pern happened to these beasts? They look dreadful.”

Mardriss grimaced.

The two steers stopped, flummoxed at being separated from the horses. They began to bawl in protest.

“Got a good look at them?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to say. They’re pathetic. They look no better than wher bait.”

“They’re a sight better than when we got them,” Burt said.

“Please say they’re not yours. Please, Mard, these things look like you’ve worked them almost to death.”

“Of course not, K’ndar, you know better than that. They’re mine, NOW. I bartered for them.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. “Bartered FOR them? Mard, have you taken leave of your senses? Don’t tell me you gave up two good oxen for these..these screws?”

“Now then, K’ndar, don’t be on your brother like that,” Burt admonished.

“Okay, tell me what the shaff happened. These beasts-I’ve never seen feet worn down so badly and they’re still on them! They look like walking skeletons. You were cheated, Mard,” he said.

“First, let the oxen into the pasture with the horses. I just wanted you to see them close up, I knew you’d eventually see them and this way I can explain.”

K’ndar obeyed, opening the gate. The steers backed up to let the gate open fully, then walked painfully towards the horses. He shut the gate behind them and rode up to join the others.

“I think they were raised with horses, they’re far happier with them than with the cows.”

“Let’s not forget the bull wants nothing to do with them. He knows they’re steers but he still doesn’t want any competition for his women,” Burt said.

“The shape they’re in, he could kill them easily.”

“Aye.”

“Let’s ride back, B’rost wants to talk to me, but I wanted to get this swap done first. You’ll understand what we got in the barter when you see the other part of it.”

“Let me ‘splain it, Boss, B’rost is adamant. It’s all about the lassie, Natty and her mum and dad. He’s wanting to talk to each of us, take our temperature, that sort of thing.”

“Okay,” Mardriss said, “The sooner he has his say, the sooner I can get back to work.”

K’ndar patted the neck of his horse after unsaddling her. They let their horses loose into the riding horse paddock. Then Burt led him to the back of the barn. Next to the well was a structure awaiting building. He noticed flat blades that looked like scapular bones, a hub, and a pile of lightwood, all cut into the same lengths.

“See this, K’ndar? It’s a ‘windmill”. We’re going to put it up and it will do two things: Pump water so we don’t have to yank it up by the bucket full, and it can also be made to create electricity.”

“Really? That’s amazing. Did you build it?”

“No, K’ndar, look, it’s all of lightwood, we don’t grow that down here. Too cold! Let me fill you in.

About three weeks ago, a family showed up. A man, his wife carrying a toddler of about two, I guess, and an older girl of about 8, I wager. They came walking into the cothold alongside a wagon full of settler gear. Those two oxen were dragging a wagon, and I do mean dragging. They were done, K’ndar, by all rights they should have been dead. But they’re game as lions, doing their job despite being on their last legs. Don’t be too hard on them, we’re going to put some weight on them and let them rest. You go take a good look at them later. They’re well bred and well trained, whoever bred them knew his business. The people, too, were done. They said they were settlers, starting out with a team and a wagon full of gear. They’d left Bitra with the dream of starting their own cothold down here. His name was Landren, the wife was Dor. The kids’ names, I don’t know. The little girl was shy as can be, but the toddler, he took one look at Nattana and they played like puppies.

They were in dire straits, K’ndar, none of us could bear to turn them away, despite their coming uninvited. The adults were thin as withes, they’d not done a whole lot of eating, but the kids were fat. They didn’t have a mark to their name. They’d sold everything they had to buy the wagon, the team, the gear, and then make their way to Southern. Now, me, I was born up North, near Lemos, and we moved down here when I was a teen. So I’m a bit familiar with the layout up there.

When my parents decided to emigrate to Southern, we did it the smart way. My parents mapped out their whole path before they ever left Lemos. We took ship in Lemos down to Keroon, where we spent the summer at the Beastmaster Hold, as drudges. That’s where I learned to build a rock wall, and K’ndar, I’m not boasting. You won’t find a stouter wall then the ones we put up here. Come Southern spring, my dad had made enough money to take ship again to Southern. There, we spent another year, working for Toric, that bastard, until, again, we had enough money to light out on our own. THAT’s when we bought a wagon, a team, and all the gear. By that time I was old enough to be Searched, I was, but I was never Impressed. By that time, my parents and my youngest sib headed due West. I’ve not seen them in years. Me, I knocked around Southern for a while, went hungry often, until I met up with Hanliss. Me and him and Fland, he’d just recovered from his accident, you know, and a few other men we picked up on the way, made our way here. Hanliss had been granted a cothold from Lord Dorn. By that time I’d learned, even as young as I were, that you can’t live on the steppe, you can’t fight her, you have to work with her. Hanliss was as mean as a tunnel snake, but he gave me a roof over my head, I was willing to work hard, and now I’m settled, on a cothold I helped build, I have a partner, and a home. I’m happy.

But these youngsters, K’ndar, they did it all wrong. They bought all the gear, the team, FIRST. Then they wandered around, I think he said they headed west, then east, crossing the Igen desert without a clue as to what they were doing. Then they headed south, I think, and finally got to Keroon. They got on a ship, team and wagon, which is expensive, and were taken for a ride by the captain. He took them to Southern Hold, and charged them to DISEMBARK as well as board! It would have made much more sense for them to go to Cove Hold, if they truly wanted to settle on the steppe,. That captain was a shyster. He was paid for Cove Hold and dumped them at Southern. His ship was the Imp, I think he said. That’s a captain who needs a knock in the head.

So they got off the ship with out a mark to their name, by this time the oxen are footsore and tired. But instead of letting them fatten up, they made their way here. The long way around. How they did it, I don’t know, but the came to us from the east, K’ndar, like they’d made it out onto the steppe.”

“That’s crazy. Why didn’t they just take a river boat down the Lay River? It would have been much faster.”

“And expensive. K’ndar, some folks, you either can’t talk sense into them, or they let their dreams shut their ears. They’ve been wandering around like a lost calf.”

“So…”

“So. They cast up here, as destitute and helpless as any bunch of Holdless. No, not Holdless. Holdless folks stick together, they know the way to survive. No, these were dreamers, I guess. Anyway, they wanted a pair of fresh oxen, they wanted a horse, and mostly they wanted food. But they had no money. So Mardriss-he’s got a soft heart, K’ndar, all you kids are nothing like your dad. You all take after your mum. He realized he was going to get the shady end of a deal. But Landren, he says, look, I can’t pay enough for the team, and okay, no horse. But I got this here windmill, I’ll give it to you in addition to my team, and maybe when I get on my feet, I’ll come and make it right by you.”

“Did he say where the windmill came from?”

“He says it had been grown, by someone up north.”

“”Grown? Grown?”

“Aye, it’s plain as the nose on your face. Come and take a look at it,” Burt said.

It had been grown. He could see that somehow, the maker had enticed lightwood to grow into the shape of blades. The pipes had been created by puncturing the septums of the lightwood round stems. The structure itself was also of lightwood. There was even a small sealed bucket with a label: “Bitumen, joint sealer.”

“How did he do this,” K’ndar said, almost to himself, “This is clever. How did he make lightwood grow into a SHAPE?” His biological brain was ticking.

“How does it work?”

“I’m not an engineer, K’ndar, but I think what happens is, you put the pipes together, stick it into the well. Connect the hub to the pipe, put the blades around it and erect the whole shebang on the ‘tower’. The blades turn in the wind, and Pern knows, we have wind here to spare. The water is sucked up the pipe and flows out and into a tank. We’ll have to dig a tank for the water. He also said it might work for creating electricity, but we have solar panels now, and they do a good job of providing light.”

“Amazing. It’s the same thing as Lord Dorn’s waterwheel mill.”

“Aye. Why we didn’t think of it earlier, I don’t know.”

“But, why bring that big thing? It took up a lot of room in the wagon, I bet.”

“It did. And what they brought, K’ndar, didn’t make sense. It’s like they hadn’t done a whole lot of thinking things through. They had plenty of clothes but only one shovel, no pick, no rakes. They had no idea how to care for the oxen’s feet. They had so little in the way of tools to make a living on the steppe. They didn’t even know there’s no firewood out there.

It was sad, K’ndar, it was laughable, even, to see these greenhorns with dreams but still unwilling to listen to us ‘backward southerners’. Backward we may be, I’d never even heard of a windmill, but I know how to live on the steppe, even if I weren’t here in a nice cothold.”

“What did they think the steppe was? A free pasture?”

“I don’t know, K’ndar. I do know he planned on digging a well, and using this windmill for power and water.”

“By himself.”

“Well, maybe with his wife, but she didn’t strike me as the work toughened girl that makes it as a cotholder. They both looked as if they’d never lived a day outside of a big comfortable Hold.”

“Did he know that water is scarce on the steppe? That even the water courses dry up in the winter, like they are doing right now?”

“We tried to tell him, the steppe isn’t anything like Northern, where you have a reliable aquifer to tap, and plenty of rivers and lakes fed by snow melt from the mountains. He had no idea that our winters are cold but dry, with little if any snow. We know the water is where it is, and where it isn’t it isn’t. We even told him, watch for whers. Dig a well where the whers have dug, there will be water deep underneath. But he wouldn’t listen, K’ndar, whers were monsters, fit only for killing, as far as he was concerned. Folks like that, you know, they don’t live long. If the shysters don’t skin them, the steppe will.”

“Aye.” He thought for several moments. Something was tingling in the back of his mind, something Burt had said. Something that B’rost would want to know.

“Where are they now?”

Burt shrugged. He pointed east, to the steppe. “Out there.”