Chap. 356 Decisions in the Dark

Chap. 356 Decisions in the Dark

Lizard awoke, momentarily confused. Batu, his bronze fire lizard, awoke with a sleepy chip. His eyes glowed in the stygian darkness. Oh, yes, of course, I’m in my caravan, the trader recognized. It took me hours to get to sleep, now I’m awake again?

His shoulder reminded him why with a great stab of pain. Damn, he thought, stars help me if it’s infected. How long have I been asleep? It’s as if I just closed my eyes.

He searched until he found the glow he kept always in a nook on the wall and uncovered it. Despite it’s small size, it banished the darkness.

Crunch awoke and murmured softly, feeling his pain. He got up, shook and asked for the door.

I don’t want to wake K’ndar up, he thought, wondering if the dragon rider was underneath the caravan.

He pinged Batu. The fire lizard showed him that K’ndar had taken his bedroll into the outer meadow and was at the moment sound asleep between Raventh’s forelegs.

Why would no dragon have me? he wondered for the thousandth, perhaps hundred thousandth time. But my fire lizards, my dog, my horses, they’re family enough, he thought.

He opened the door, grateful that he was right handed. The dog jumped down into the darkness.

Shards, this hurts. Where is that goop B’rost gave me? He pulled the bandages aside, seeing that they were bloodied. It’s better to be without them, he thought. Let the night air get to it. He found the small jar and smeared the wound with the gel. It had an odd smell, one that reminded him of still, muddy water, but within seconds, the pain eased.

I need to pee, he thought, annoyed by his bladder’s insistence on waking him in the dead of night. I remember grandfather complaining that his bladder had shrunk. I used to laugh. Now I don’t find it so funny anymore.

He’d learned, like everyone on Pern, that you don’t go barefoot. There were too many nocturnal creatures that stung, bit or both, and if it wasn’t a creature it was a plant, like needlethorn. But I’ve not seen needlethorn here, he thought. He pulled on his boots with difficulty, even with the smanda gel numbing the pain in his shoulder. Do we use our shoulders for everything?

Crunch met him at the base of the small ladder, whacking his legs with a steel rod covered in fur.

Regretting not bringing the glow, he stumbled to an area a ways from the caravan-he began to think of it as a rudimentary latrine, and as he relieved himself, he looked skyward. Not only was it a moonless night, the sky was overcast, hiding the stars. He could hear the sea, not that far off, the onshore winds carrying the scent of the ocean.

He could hear Crunch moving through the grass, and in the distance, Pia, his draft mare nickered. Their reactions told him he was safe from predators.

A nightflyer darted overhead, making it’s odd skritching noise. I’ve seen one, once, killed somehow. It was all wings and wicked fangs, with a body no bigger than the palm of my hand. I used to be afraid of them, he thought, Mum said they’d get caught in one’s hair, but not once did I ever hear of it actually happening. Then I learned how many insects they eat, the biting ones, the tiny ones no one can see but still torment us.

I’m getting old, he thought. It was just a short fight, but I feel as if I’ve been trampled by a panicked herd. What if I don’t recover my arm strength? This isn’t the worst I’ve ever been wounded, but it’s more worrisome. I hope this smanda gel works as an antibiotic as well as a pain killer. Does the Weyr have a healer? Now that he’s got a fire lizard, I could ask B’rost to help if I get worse. He’s a good lad, if a bit flighty. I was out for how long? What if my friends hadn’t come to help me? I would never have believed Batu, any fire lizard, had the intelligence to go to K’ndar for help. He could have gone to Sandriss, but he must know Sandriss has no dragon. Somehow he knew time was of the essence and that only Raventh could get here fast enough.

He reached out to Batu and told him how smart he was, how thankful he was for the little bronze’s quick thinking.

The bronze sent a sleepy cheerful note. It was full of loyalty and reassurance. There is no better bronze than I, it said.

No, I can’t ride you, he thought, but you’re still a dragon. Maybe I did impress one, just a little one.

Despite being naked save for his boots, the cool wind felt good on his skin. I must be feverish, he thought.

He heard Deck, his draft gelding, murmur in the darkness. What good horses you are, he thought, and, by the egg, I can’t harness you right now to save my life. I’m..I’m incapacitated!

The thought sent chills down his spine. Will I always be this helpless? Stars help me, no. No. I’ll find a way to commit suicide rather than be utterly helpless.

What do I do with myself? Is it time to settle?

His gut nodded.

Really? I’ve been nomading since I was a kid, he thought. Can I really settle down?

Sandriss did. But he’s found a partner, a lovely woman and has a child, and a place, a real cothold, to live in. Where would I go?

Why not here? I’ve camped here half a dozen times. Every time I do, I find more to like about it. I don’t know if I like having that new seaport so close, in the past, this was utter wilderness. The trail outside the walls is becoming a thoroughfare, and the raiders have already found it. But two of them are dead, and I’m sure Vixen will find a way to uncover that little cabal of criminals in Lemos.

And unless you know where to look for the entrance, this canyon is invisible.

People tried to homestead it, I’m sure of it. That structure near the palisade’s entrance didn’t grow up with the rain.

I don’t like the weyr and the seaport so close. It’s what, eight kilometers? I didn’t measure it. But what happens if I can’t function solo anymore? Settling here will be nice, but I am no farmer. The Weyr and the Port are both sources of things like food, medications, business?

I hate this, I hate feeling dependent on other people. I like being independant.

But I could also have died without a soul knowing, and my dog would have gone hungry, and my horses still harnessed. What if the raiders had succeeded in killing me? Stolen my caravan and no one would have known the better. Not even the boy at the port. Why did the raider even attack me? That wasn’t necessary. He asked for it. He had no idea how to fight with a knife. But they would have gotten Vixen. If they were willing to kill me for what they thought was a cask of money, would they have raped her before they killed her?

The thought of any person being raped made him angry. No, as bad as this is, it was worth it, if for no other reason than to save a young woman’s life.

He sighed, beginning to feel the sea winds chilling him. He whistled for Crunch, and climbed back into the caravan. His bunk was still warm.

The glow made the interior seem cozy and welcoming. This is home. No matter where I park it, it’s home. Here. Why not permanently? I don’t have to live between stone walls.

I can try it. I can try settling down. I don’t HAVE to stay here, I can still travel and trade, but it’d be nice to have a definite hold to return to. It’s a new feeling, but I like it.

I’d like to keep this canyon. I’ll ask K’ndar if he knows how to arrange ownership.

His shoulder was comfortably numb. He picked up the small tub of smanda gel and something twinkled in his brain. Smanda Gel. This stuff WORKS. I, well, duh, Lizard, you’re an idiot. This stuff is gold. I’m a trader. Right now I’m fairly skint on money or trade goods. But I can make a living selling/trading this stuff. I think K’ndar said it’s made at Landing. That’s where I’ll go first. I’ll ask them if they are willing to allow me to peddle it.

He felt sleep returning. Why not settle down, his gut said.

Even the Wanderers eventually stop Wandering.

________________________________________________________________

“Hmmm,” K’ndar said. “This is dragonlands, and worse, if you can say that, it’s the Stoney Wastes. That in and of itself puts a lot of people off, I’m betting. As far as I know, not many people have petitioned to lay claim to parts of it.

But the new Weyr, with the associated sea port, is going to make a big difference, I think. It’s homesteading, like the Ancients did.

Don’t give me too much credit, Lizard! I don’t sit in on the Council’s meetings. I do know they’re still trying to find the time to address the issue of dragonlands and our rights to them. It’s a thorny issue, people are moving here, seeking land, the few Holders here on Southern-right now I can name Toric and Lord Dorn, and there’s a Hold on the West coast, aren’t interested in ceding any land that doesn’t involve a person being beholden to them. Just look at Lord Toric, he must have a dozen heirs and they’re all champing at the bit, waiting for him to die. When he does it’s not going to be pretty!

As for Weyrs, there’s Kahrain, Honshu, which is a cross between a Hold, a Weyr and an historical artifact. Now there’s this new SeaCoast weyr that used to be Southern Weyr. Oh, and Western Weyr, but I know nothing about it. I’m told that some dragonriders have just gone out on their lone, to make a living on dragonlands without being sanctioned.

Again, as I don’t have access to the Council’s thinking, I believe they’ve not had time to discuss it. I do know that there’s plenty of folks, non-dragonriders, who are just homesteading pieces and after awhile get very possessive of them, usually because they know they’re illegal. Sometimes they shoot at dragonriders who pass over, which pisses us off no end.

But I suppose if it were me, I’d get a good grasp of how much land I’d want, get the coordinates for it, and then petition the nearest Weyrleader. That way, you’d be under the Weyr’s eye, and of course, you’d probably have to do something in return: raise livestock, or farm, or SOMETHING to make it worth the Weyr’s while to keep it under their protection. Tithing, basically, but not like a cotholder or a crafter tithes.”

Lizard nodded, keeping the idea of peddling smanda gel to himself for the moment.

“Your datalink, can it tell me how much land is encompassed in this canyon?”

K’ndar laughed. “Better than that, I can have the starship look at it and give you the exact dimensions and hectarage, down to the centimeter.”

“Would you, please?”

“Of course.” He pulled out his datalink and pinged the Yokohama.

Within a few seconds, the starship’s computers provided a topographical map of the canyon.

“Huh,” he said, “it’s not a canyon.”

“It’s not?”

“No. It’s a caldera. The walls of the palisades-I’m no geologist, but I bet B’rost could tell you it was a volcanic cone at one time, was eroded to virtually nothing, then flooded with mud or whatever slate is made of, then eroded again. That’s what’s made the slate palisades and the outcrops. I think. It must be a billion years old.”

He turned the datalink so that the trader could see it. “See, all this data at the bottom is showing the composition of the rocks. I WISH B’rost were here or Risal, they eat this stuff up! And see, here is your caravan. I think the only reason we’re not showing up is because we’re under the tree canopy.”

“It’s that precise? It’s seeing us right now?”

“Yes, with a few seconds of what they call ‘lag’. These things are incredible. It took me a while to learn to use it. For a while Landing was selling them to anyone who wanted one, but then they found that people were overwhelming the computer with requests for data, or for uses like this, and the kids were just burning up so much time Landing had to do something. So they now only give datalinks to Weyrleaders, Crafthalls, Major Holders, Harpers, and, of course, Healers. Mine for instance, isn’t “mine”. I use it as part of my job, but if and when I’m released from working for Landing I’ll have to give it back. Landing doesn’t have an enforcement force, so they can’t just walk in and collect them, but they DO know when one is activated and what the person is doing with it. For instance, Landing knows that Lord Toric has a lot of ‘toys’ as we call them, but as he refuses to admit it, and that they’re in some cases stolen, they’ve rendered them inoperable. Making them useless. It took the wind right out of his underhanded sails.”

The trader looked at the map for a long time. Part of me wants to settle, the part of me that hurts. The other part of me is wary of being in one place for any length of time.

“I think..I think I’d like to talk to the Weyr about it. I think I’d like to keep this land for when I finally am unable to trade or get around any more. Does it say how much land there is?”

“Just within the walls of the caldera?”

“Yes.”

K’ndar touched an icon.

Caldera undesignated, situated in Stoney Wastes, Southern continent. 2528 hectares, (6000 acres), characterized by savannah woodlands interspersed with grasslands and wetlands in the southern edges. Provides habitats for avians, several species of wherry, large herbivores and predators to include whers and susi. A small river flows from south to north, ultimately ending in the intercontinental sea. Close to the southern most point of the caldera is a small lake of about 50 hectares, depth unrecorded. Coordinates and geological information requested?

He clicked ‘no’. I wouldn’t understand it anyway.

He typed in, Inhabited?

At this time, no. Lidar indicates that original colonists attempted to improve it using slates to build roads and structures, but after evacuation of the continent to Northern in year 14, no habitation or construction has been accomplished since.

He could hear the gears in Lizard’s head turning.

I’m going to have to settle down sometime anyway. I like this place. I have since I found it ten years ago. I’ve never felt this way before, wanting to STAY in one place, but I’ve never felt so old, either. I could live here. I could let my horses roam, I could watch the wildlife, I could-well, I have to die sometime, and this is as good a place as any. Drag my carcass into a clearing and have the scavenger wherries clean my bones.

He looked at K’ndar’s face. This young man is so like his brother, Sandriss, I consider him family. How lucky I am to have him as a friend.

“Would you please be so kind as to transport me to SeaCoast Weyr?”

K’ndar grinned. “This is unscheduled transport, sir.”

Lizard laughed at the remark. “I trained you well. I’m flat skint at the moment. Put it on my tab?”

K’ndar shook his head. “You had a cask of a thousand marks, sir, and you sent it on to the rightful owner. I don’t give a shard if you’re skint or flush. This one’s on me, Lizard. Always.”