Errata to Chap. 238 Hunting the Steppe

I was notified by a highly observant reader that I’ve made a mistake in “Hunting the Steppe”.

K’ndar lives on the Southern Continent. Turnover is at the end of the year, and in the Northern Hemisphere, that’s winter.

In the Southern, it’s high summer.

Having lived my entire life in the Northern Hemisphere on Earth, I just..well, forgot that our winter is the Southern Hemisphere’s summer. It’s the same on Pern.

So..rather than change the entire story, just think of it, oh, it’s a really cold day in Pern’s high summer.

Chap. 238 Hunting the Steppe

Chap. 238 Hunting The Steppe

After two days, K’ndar was ready to leave the cothold.

I’m just not that social a person, he thought. He enjoyed talking with his family, but after hours of it, all he wanted was to be alone, with just Raventh and Siskin.

I’m a loner. I always will be.

He stared out at the sky, trying to decide if he should take his sister back to the Weyr, or tough it out another couple of days.

Are we going to go out on to the steppe? I’m getting hungry.

Guilt hit him. He’d forgotten that Raventh had wanted that.

I’ll let my family know we’re going. I’ll need a few minutes to pack some food and water for myself.

__________________________________________________________________________

This was good, he thought. We needed this.

Far off in the distance, he saw horses moving slowly across the steppe. It was late in the season. Most of the grasses had senesced in the summer’s heat, releasing a scent both spicy and dusty when stepped on. He inhaled deeply, trying to force the scent into his bones.

The air was arid and cold, but he was tucked into a small crevice of a fairly large kopje, protected from the ceaseless wind and warmed by the sun on his face. The outcropping was close to a small watercourse that had dried up in the summer heat. Shrubs and small trees lined it, leafless now with the onset of winter.

The grasses rustled with the wind. Leaves caught up in the wind danced past him.

It always felt strange to watch his dragon fly away. Raventh had gone three days without eating, which wasn’t that unusual, but he’d been especially hungry this time. He saw Raventh climb high, high, searching for an unwary wherry.

He remembered being out here in the middle of nowhere when the locusts had rolled in.

“Do you remember the locusts, Siskin?” he asked the blue fire lizard, and formed the picture in his mind.

Siskin chittered excitedly. He dropped to the ground and began digging, searching for locust larvae.

He found himself thinking of the past hectic few weeks. No. I am not going to think of work. Of Landing, of the people I’ve had dealings with…no. No one has a clue where I am other than ‘out on the steppe’. It’s just me and Raventh and Siskin.

He felt as if his mind was rocketing skyward, seeing himself sitting in the rocks as if from a great height. So small I am, in the middle of this vast, open land. Yes. I am truly alone, right now. Well, without humans. I am going to just sit here and enjoy being lost without being lost.

He took deep breaths, trying to get the recent events to dissipate from his mind. How could life have become so suddenly complex, so full of twists and turns, and most of all, little time for himself? It was as if life has suddenly started yelling in a hundred voices inside his head.

Did I make a mistake, taking the position at Landing? What would life have been like had I chosen to be Lord Dorn’s personal dragon transport? Or should I have stayed at the Weyr, where I knew what to expect from day to day, but I would have to deal with M’rvin? Shards, could they have forced me into taking some sort of leadership position? Teaching Weyrlings? I’m no teacher. I’m not a leader. I’m perfectly content taking orders from someone else, as long as they make sense!

Maybe we should strike out on our own? Raventh said.

He could just barely see his dragon, flying from one weak thermal to another as he scanned for prey.

Whoa. That had not occurred to me.

Others have done it.

Really? Who?

B’rost. I haven’t heard from Rath, but remember, they went to the Healer Hall. And Earth’s rider, Greta? She left.

I forgot about B’rost. You’re right, but he was always so flighty. As for Greta and Earth…aren’t they dead?

I don’t know. Earth was wiser than her rider. Greta wanted to go to the starship. Earth didn’t, but she would have gone, if Greta had insisted. I think Greta made a mistake.

I do, too. But as for going full nomad? I…I don’t know. Right now, I think…no. We’re pretty comfortable at Landing. I like the work, it’s just Lefsa, so emotionally fragile, her partner attacking me without reason, it makes me wonder if it will always be so fraught with tension.

Raventh was quiet for several moments, concentrating on one particular wherry.

It makes your mind so busy, sometimes I can’t get to you. Like yesterday, I was hungry yesterday.

K’ndar felt the guilt grab his heart.

I’m sorry. You’re right. But we’re here, now.

I have to concentrate now, I see a wherry I might be able to attack.

With reason, right?

Raventh laughed.

________________________________________________________________________

Raventh’s thoughts at the moment were purely gustatorial. Siskin had joined him to feed on his kill, leaving K’ndar truly alone.

This is the first time in years, he thought, that I’d not had a soul near me.

He listened to the wind whistling through the bare branches above his head. It wasn’t a mournful sound, merely the breathing of the steppe.

He heard them before he saw them, a chorus of plaintive cries, ringing from just behind the kopje. Birds, the large ones, with long necks. He heard the whuhwhuh of their great wings as they flew right over head. So many of them! He tried to count but they flew faster than his eye could group them. He remembered years ago, one of his father’s hands had shot one out of the sky with an arrow, an incredible feat all on its own. The man’s wife had cooked it..and cooked it and cooked it, til finally hunger forced them to try and eat it.

They had bread and fruit for the rest of the dinner.

They are too noble a bird to eat, he thought, as the flock finally passed. He watched them reach the outskirts of the horse herd and join a hundred more of their kind. They greeted each other with an extravagant show of wings and dance steps. They’re like us, he thought, they have friends and family, they have a culture.

Why is it, he wondered, his thoughts aimlessly skipping from one to another, that Pern has birds, and saurians, fish and reptiles, even amphibians…but no native mammals?

He saw one raptor, circling on high, scanning, as Raventh had done, for prey. It followed the horses, hoping their hooves would scare up something to eat. The horses were moving slowly towards his position, having been shifted by Raventh’s actions.

The sky was so brilliant blue, clouds sailing majestically in clumps, like ships on the sea. They were the ‘good’ kind of cloud, ones that said fair weather was ahead, without rain. He could see them between the horse’s legs, seemingly resting on the horizon. It was so wild, so open, he felt his heart almost burst with just the joy of being alone in the wilderness.

Of course, it helps that I didn’t ride this far out on a horse, or have to worry about where I was going to sleep tonight.

He heard a rustling sound and saw the dried grasses moving at the base of his rocky seat.

It seemed to take forever, but the creature finally moved away from the safety of the rock and emerged from the grasses.

It was a chmunk. Six legged like most of Pern’s native creatures, it moved quickly, searching for seeds and nuts to store for the winter. He watched as it searched, and when it found something edible, it sat up on its hindquarters and stuffed the seeds into its mouth. Then it fled to its home in the rocks.

This one was a different species, he realized, looking less like the ones seen in the forests. It was the color of dead grass, even striped vertically to blend in with the tall grass.

Hoping it would come back out, he quietly pulled a packet of dried berries from his backpack. He’d taken them from his mother’s winter store. She makes the best pies with these, he thought, reminiscing.

The chmunk came back out. It moved a bit further than its first foray.

K’ndar waited until its back was turned to him, and tossed a handful of the berries.

The chmunk heard the berries fall and whirled. K’ndar froze. The little creature sat up, looking, looking, not seeing the source of the noise. Then it dropped back to its feet and began to forage again. It ignored the berries.

Really, little creature? Do you not know these are the best berries?

He tossed a few more, one plinking off the chmunk’s head. It vanished into the grasses.

Well, I guess not.

He pulled out his binocular and focused on Raventh. The dragon was surrounded by what seemed fifty scavengers, both wherry and avian. He could just barely see Siskin from this distance, fully fed and safe between Raventh’s wings.

Should I call him back? But I want to see the chmunk again.

Several minutes later, the chmunk reappeared. It darted out, then stopped. He could see its nose twitching. It ran back and forth, searching for the source of the delicious scent.

It picked up one berry and took a small nibble. Then it ate the entire thing, and began to search for more.

K’ndar moved…and the chmunk paused, poised for flight. After several long moments, it sat up and stared at him. Then it moved towards him. He could see it was puzzled. I am probably the first human you’ve ever seen in your life, he thought.

He began to feel his body begin to complain about holding the same position. He finally couldn’t hold the position any longer and involuntarily moved.

The chmunk ran a ways to the side, then, after staring at him for what seemed an eternity, began to climb up the rocks toward his feet.

It came closer and closer, slowly, watching for the slightest move. It came to his boot and sniffed. It sat up again, and met his eyes.

He blinked, and the chmunk leaped to the ground, then stopped again, staring at him.

Daring, K’ndar slowly moved the hand that still held some berries, and flicked them towards the chmunk.

The chmunk jumped backwards, then sat up and chittered at him. K’ndar stifled a laugh.

The chmunk dropped to the ground again and found the berries. As it ate one, he tossed the ones he had left in a scattered cloud.

The chmunk darted from berry to berry, each time, sitting up to place one in its mouth. How could it hold so many?

He watched, tickled at the idea of this wild creature actually touching him. It had apparently satisfied its curiosity, if not its appetite.

The chmunk moved further and further from the rocks. With the sun on the creature, he could see the subtle variations of color in its skin. Such a lovely little beast!

Out of nowhere, a dark winged form burst into his field of view from behind.

It swooped down, snatched up the chmunk in one smooth, taloned move, and climbed quickly back into the sky.

Oh, shit. The raptor.

I’m full, so is Siskin. What’s wrong? What happened?

Shocked at what he had enabled, he felt a huge shroud of guilt cover him.

Apparently, I’m feeding the birds

Chap. 237 Wet Turnover

Chap. 237 Wet Turnover

As K’ndar buckled Lord Dorn into Raventh’s harness, he thought, after Turnover, I’ll be going home, I should take something. It’s not right to show up with an appetite and empty hands. What?

He drew a blank.

“Sir, if you were going to go back to your natal home for Turnover, what would you take?” he asked Lord Dorn.

Lord Dorn smiled.

“Why, I’d take a cask of the best wine being grown on Southern!”

K’ndar grinned. “Thank you, that’s an excellent idea! I wish I could say I love it, but I can’t drink it. But I’m betting my family will love it.”

“So you’re up for it?”

“Of course, sir,” K’ndar said, “how much are you charging?”

“The typical amount for a keg or a cask, one mark.”

K’ndar dug around in his pouch and handed him a mark.

“But,” Dorn said, “You dragonriders now charge a mark for scheduled transport, am I correct?”

“Um…” it’d been a while since K’ndar had actually charged someone for transport. “Yes, my Lord.”

“So let’s call it barter. Keep your mark, and I’ll have one of my staff bring up a cask for you. Are you planning on staying for Turnover festivities at my Hold?”

K’ndar pocketed the mark. “It depends, sir. Flight Ops says it’s raining at Singing Waters, and has been all week. Given that, I’m probably going to go to my cothold.”

“Shaff it,” Lord Dorn said, “That’ll piss off a whole lot of folks.” He sighed. “Ah, well, there’s no controlling the weather. Rain or shine, I’ll have one of my staff bring a cask up for you. Thank you for the ride, K’ndar. And don’t forget, if you ever get tired of Landing, there’s a spot for you and this handsome dragon at Singing Waters.”

“Thank you, sir,” K’ndar said, “I shall.”

“And I promise no jealous husbands will knock you in the head!”

_________________________________________________________________________

“Well, if this isn’t a disappointment,” K’ndar said.

It was raining. Not a slight mist, one that could be deflected by a waterproof riding jacket or just toughed out. No, this was a flat out downpour.

He was standing just outside Singing Water’s main hold. Protected from the downpour by a rock overhang, he contemplated the steady drip drip drip coming from one protruding edge. I used to love rain, he thought, but that was when we knew it would kill Threadfall in the sky, and we could relax in our quarters. Now it is an irritation, something keeping me from doing what I want.

“It’s been raining since Lord Dorn left for Selection,” said the man who’d trundled a cask of wine up from the cellars. “It surely puts a damper on Turnover festivities, get it? Damper?”

K’ndar laughed, more out of courtesy than real humor.

“I imagine you’ve been preparing for weeks?”

The man nodded. “Aye, and now it would seem all for naught. People’ve been coming in all week, with their wares, expecting dancing and dining. Not going to be much of the former and if this goes on for very long, the diners will eat us out of hold and home in a day.”

He paused, shaking his head in dismay. “You’re staying, then?” the man asked.

K’ndar wondered if he should unharness Raventh or just give up and head to Kahrain Weyr. Leather didn’t care much for rain.

“Given this rain, and the fact that I’m not much for socializing, I think not, even though I had looked forward to it. I’m guessing there’s not enough room in the Hold for all the festivities, the ones usually done outside?”

“Nay, dragonrider, in fact some folks was here intending to sell their crafts, and turned around and went home. Weather says it’s supposed to rain clear into next week.”

K’ndar sighed.

“That’s what Flight Ops said, too. I may as well then just go on to my cothold, where I grew up. It’s not raining, there.”

“Where’s your dragon, mate, and we’ll lash on this cask. It’s a brand new ‘un, if you don’t mind, please, return it sometime? We’re not a big enough winery yet to have a person designated to deliver and return casks.”

“I’ll return it, or have it returned, but I can’t say when. See that brown dragon in that cavern, the one past your stables? That’s my Raventh.”

“Ah, I see him. I’m no dragonrider, sir, but I did grow up in a weyr, and even from here I see he’s a dandy. I’ll just run this cask over to the cavern, quick like,” the man said, “No use your harness getting any wetter than what it already is.”

He sat aboard Raventh, almost loathe to go out into the rain. Thank the stars it was just rain, with no thunder or lightning. Even being in the air for the few moments it took to go between was risking being struck.

What would you like to do? he asked Raventh.

The brown dragon thought for several moments.

I want to go out onto the steppe and hunt.

He liked that idea, a lot. He’d been wanting to return to the steppe, to see lions and horses, whers and avians. That, and just immerse himself in the peace and silence of the vast wilderness.

Okay. Let’s go, pick up my sister, and head to my cothold.

He ducked his head as they stepped out into the rain.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Rain does put a damper on festivities,” his uncle said.

“I’m glad it’s not raining here,” K’ndar said, “I would probably have just returned to Landing.”

He unlashed the cask.

Raventh shook himself and moved away from the two.

He examined his harness, looking for signs that the leather had sustained any damage from the rain. But he’d oiled it well. I’ll put it out in the sun and allow any moisture on it to dry, he thought.

Fland had stopped a few meters from Raventh, looking him over.

As he picked up the cask, K’ndar took a surreptitious glance at his uncle, searching for any signs of emotional distress. Fland had lost his dragon years before, and was one of the few people who’d survived the loss. But there was always a huge part of one’s heart and mind that was forever empty.

I hope I never survive losing Raventh, he thought.

“He’s looking very fit, K’ndar,” Fland said, watching as Raventh headed for the dragon meadow.

“Aa are you, sir. Marriage looks good on you.”

Fland laughed, allowing it to soothe the ache in his soul. Will I ever get over losing Lenarth?

“Here, give me that, I’ll carry it. Let’s go up to the cottage,” Fland said, to cover his sadness, “your sister wasted no time heading there.”

K’ndar nodded. “Aye. I wasn’t sure if she would want to come, she is doing so well at the Weyr,” he said.

He stopped suddenly, noticing something wrong with his memory of the spot the last time he’d stood here.

As always when he returned to his natal cothold, there were glaring changes. Some, though, like now, were not so obvious, ones that refused to be remembered. There had been something over there, right? Or am I imagining it? Something had changed, but what? It was aggravating. Horses had excellent memories for where things were placed, even something as unremarkable as a shrub. How is it that the master species of the planet couldn’t remember from one day to the next?

Ask Siskin. They have far better memories than either of us.

Ah! But I have no idea how to even frame the question!

Let me see if I can figure it out.

Siskin chittered. Suddenly a picture bloomed in his mind. It was obviously from the past.

A tree was missing from the spot he was looking at.

Something as simple as a tree, or its absence, had triggered the question in his mind. And Siskin had remembered it right away. What an amazing creature, these fire lizards!

Thank you. I will remember that, at least, don’t forget how to ask him, because I just don’t seem to understand it. Just how far back CAN he remember?

Raventh was silent for a while.

I think it’s a group memory. I think he can share memories with other fire lizards, remember things others have seen or done.

I’ve heard that, but up until now I wasn’t sure if that was true.

It seems to be true.

Teach me how to ask him.

“K’ndar? Did you hear me?” his uncle interrupted.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Uncle Fland, I was…” he said, firmly squashing his sudden irritation at being interrupted while talking to Raventh. Not polite, K’ndar. Not at all.

“Talking to Raventh. I understand. Are you coming up to the house? I’m sure your mum is anxious to give you a hug and a kiss.”

He shook his head to dispel his concentration. “Of course!”

_______________________________________________________________________

“You brought an entire cask of wine? Thank you, K’ndar!” his mother said. Fland put the cask down on her stone table.

“I wasn’t sure what to bring for Turnover, so I brought this. It’s a new wine being bred by a journeyman at Lord Dorn’s hold.”

“That had to have been expensive, K’ndar,” Mardriss, his eldest brother said.

He shrugged. “Not at all. It was barter. We charge a mark for scheduled transportation now. Lord Dorn charges a mark for a cask of wine. He’d like it back, please? So when it’s empty, either contact me or…”

“We’ll get it back to him, one way or another,” Mardriss said.

“A mark for transport! That’s new, isn’t it?” Sandriss said, coming into the room.

“Hello, Sand! Where are your fire lizards?”

“All over Raventh, at the moment,” his middle brother said. “Siskin is bossing my bronze around. It’s HIS Raventh, he’s saying.”

They laughed.

“Yes, it’s a relatively new thing. Lord Toric…boy, can I tell you some stories about HIM…was the real cause of the charges, and now all dragonriders not specifically leased by Holders ask the same price. If it’s someone requesting an unscheduled ride, the rider can say yes or no, and then it’s two marks. It’s not a bad way to make money, I guess, and I’ve made a little, but so far I’ve not had to spend it,” K’ndar said.

“Spend it on me!” Glyena piped up. The adults in the room all went silent for a moment, glaring at the girl.

She withered. “Just joking, K’ndar.”

He lightened his frown.

“I believe you, but you know as well as I do that that wasn’t polite,” K’ndar said.

She hung her head.

“I’m sorry.”

Daryat reflected that being fostered out had done so much good for Glyena. Still, it still gave her a slight pang of guilt.

“Apology accepted. And, it just so happens, I DID spend money on you.”

He dug around in his backpack and pulled out a leather bundle.

She looked at him in surprise.

“What is it?”

“Look and see. Literally,” K’ndar said, smiling.

She unwrapped it.

“Ooooooooooooh!! A binocular! Look, everyone, I have a binocular, now I can go watch the birds and the wherries!”

“Here,” he said, realizing he no longer had to squat to be eye to eye with her. She was getting tall.”I’ll show you how to use it.”

It took just a moment for him to show her the various functions. She excitedly put them around her neck and darted for the entrance to the cottage.

“Glyena?” Daryat said, in a tone that froze everyone save Fland. There wasn’t a soul in that room who mistook its meaning.

The girl froze. She turned and gulped, feeling her mother’s eye crisping her hair.

“Yes,’m. I forgot,” she said, returning to K’ndar. “Thank you, K’ndar, thank you very much,” she said. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re welcome. Happy Turnover.”