Post by Deleted on Oct 22, 2012 12:46:25 GMT -5
At the Hatching feast last night, a good deal of people congratulated her and A’zael on losing only one hatchling; Vesper’s Weyrwoman had a blunter version of “It was a bit of a shock, but at least it was just a green. Now, losing one of those queens or bronzes, THAT would have been a tragedy.”
Unfortunately, they’d also sent the very clear message that nobody was going to take a Candidate who’d started a fight on the Hatching Sands, having all left as soon as the feast was over. The sentiment was confirmed when a host of messages from all the major Weyrs had been flown over by dragon or fire-lizard, mostly saying the same thing:
Nobody was taking a Candidate who’d started a fight on the Hatching Sands.
So now the two of them were seated at the guest table in Karredy’s weyr. She would have talked to them somewhere less comfortable, but the records room was crammed with two months’ backlog of files and putting them by her desk would mean putting them mere feet away from Zalmaranth--the queen had hardly slept at all last night, giving occasional growls of discontent and scratching at the edge of her couch. Karredy was looking forward to next sevenday, when she’d forget the ordeal. And then her rage would stop bleeding over and making Karredy feel like kicking things. (She’d already lost one of her distaffs from snapping it into pieces.)
Maylin didn’t need much chastisement: S’bol said that the girl had largely been a good Candidate. Studying well, doing chores, nothing unusual aside from a childish fit now and then. She was only fourteen, after all. Still, you needed two people to make a fight, and Maylin really should have just called for help or tried to get away instead of lashing back at him.
“Now, S’bol said this was the only unusual incident for you,” she finished with Maylin, “so you’re just going to be in the kitchens with the headwoman for the next two sevendays. Nothing else, unless she or Laurica assigns it to you. After that, you’re back to Candidate lessons.”
She looked at Vahguel a bit longer than she’d intended, the glowbasket light worsening the contours of her face. Her weight was finally starting to come back after eating lots of protein, but the irony was that her face took as long to regain a normal appearance as she’d been trying for Turns to get rid of the extra baby-fat. S’bol had largely said the same things about him--cooperative (if reluctant) worker, a bit “eager” according to a few of the riders, and unacknowledged son of a drudge and a minor holder. Of course Mavros would end up with SOMEONE’S illegitimate child; Karredy was surprised they hadn’t become the dumping ground for everyone’s children sooner.
Completely, blandly harmless.
She knew something was wrong with that, but she was too busy to put much thought to non-urgent matters like detective work.
“Everyone is a little too shocked that you started the fight,” she said to him finally. “I don’t know why that is, but you really should have known better. And since you had the... WONDERFUL sense of timing to start a fight at the Hatching, we’re stuck with you until the gossip dies down. Or till you Impress at the next clutch, whichever--”
NOT MINE, Zalmaranth insisted with a flex of her talons around an unlucky rock, and Karredy winced at the volume and the cracking noise.
“Probably not Zalmaranth’s,” she said. “Even if she doesn’t remember, I will. You’re helping the other boys sort firestone for a sevenday. As for both of you, you stay away from the weyrlings and from each other unless you’re eating at the Candidate table. The headwoman and a few of the riders will keep an eye on you to make sure. Now, do you have any questions?”
Unfortunately, they’d also sent the very clear message that nobody was going to take a Candidate who’d started a fight on the Hatching Sands, having all left as soon as the feast was over. The sentiment was confirmed when a host of messages from all the major Weyrs had been flown over by dragon or fire-lizard, mostly saying the same thing:
Nobody was taking a Candidate who’d started a fight on the Hatching Sands.
So now the two of them were seated at the guest table in Karredy’s weyr. She would have talked to them somewhere less comfortable, but the records room was crammed with two months’ backlog of files and putting them by her desk would mean putting them mere feet away from Zalmaranth--the queen had hardly slept at all last night, giving occasional growls of discontent and scratching at the edge of her couch. Karredy was looking forward to next sevenday, when she’d forget the ordeal. And then her rage would stop bleeding over and making Karredy feel like kicking things. (She’d already lost one of her distaffs from snapping it into pieces.)
Maylin didn’t need much chastisement: S’bol said that the girl had largely been a good Candidate. Studying well, doing chores, nothing unusual aside from a childish fit now and then. She was only fourteen, after all. Still, you needed two people to make a fight, and Maylin really should have just called for help or tried to get away instead of lashing back at him.
“Now, S’bol said this was the only unusual incident for you,” she finished with Maylin, “so you’re just going to be in the kitchens with the headwoman for the next two sevendays. Nothing else, unless she or Laurica assigns it to you. After that, you’re back to Candidate lessons.”
She looked at Vahguel a bit longer than she’d intended, the glowbasket light worsening the contours of her face. Her weight was finally starting to come back after eating lots of protein, but the irony was that her face took as long to regain a normal appearance as she’d been trying for Turns to get rid of the extra baby-fat. S’bol had largely said the same things about him--cooperative (if reluctant) worker, a bit “eager” according to a few of the riders, and unacknowledged son of a drudge and a minor holder. Of course Mavros would end up with SOMEONE’S illegitimate child; Karredy was surprised they hadn’t become the dumping ground for everyone’s children sooner.
Completely, blandly harmless.
She knew something was wrong with that, but she was too busy to put much thought to non-urgent matters like detective work.
“Everyone is a little too shocked that you started the fight,” she said to him finally. “I don’t know why that is, but you really should have known better. And since you had the... WONDERFUL sense of timing to start a fight at the Hatching, we’re stuck with you until the gossip dies down. Or till you Impress at the next clutch, whichever--”
NOT MINE, Zalmaranth insisted with a flex of her talons around an unlucky rock, and Karredy winced at the volume and the cracking noise.
“Probably not Zalmaranth’s,” she said. “Even if she doesn’t remember, I will. You’re helping the other boys sort firestone for a sevenday. As for both of you, you stay away from the weyrlings and from each other unless you’re eating at the Candidate table. The headwoman and a few of the riders will keep an eye on you to make sure. Now, do you have any questions?”
