To the Weyr - 2. Growing Up

High as it was, Pinnacle Hold became even more isolated during the winter months. Snow came early to the foothills of the Benden range, so while the weather held during ninth month, mature cheese was taken to market at Valley Narrows, together with excess stock. The horned herdbeasts were sought after as being particularly hardy examples of the breed, with a good milk yield. The male animals, born each spring, were sold for meat.

This Turn, Jevikel had been hoping to accompany his father, but instead, Vikkel decided to take Kemi. It wasn’t fair. He was much better at tending the beasts. It wasn’t entirely her fault as ever since she’d moved from the girls quarters to those of the single women, she hadn’t been allowed up into the hills any more.

‘Don’t complain,’ his mother told him. ‘Your father has important business to attend to concerning Kemi. One of the valley farmers is looking for a wife for his younger son and if she proves suitable, it will give us a useful alliance.’

‘But she’s too young to be married.’

‘Right now she is. But next Turn, she won’t be. I was married to your father at sixteen, you know.’

Jevikel thought she sounded slightly sad, although Jemina was always practical. Plus, she always took his father’s side. ‘It’s the duty of a wife to support her husband,’ she’d say.

Kemi herself wasn’t averse to the idea. ‘If I get to move down to the valleys, I’ll be closer to civilisation. I might even be able to attend a Gather again.’

‘But what if you don’t like him? Or he doesn’t like you?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not going to get much choice in the matter. Neither will he. We’ll have to make the best of it, just like our parents did. Marriage for folk like us isn’t about love.’

That sounded like something Jemina would say, too. It brought home the fact that Holder’s children, unlike those of the common workers, were expected to marry someone of equal status, in order to benefit both their families. A deal, just like the selling of stock and produce.

When they returned, Vikkel was well pleased. Not only had his beasts fetched excellent prices, but Kemi and Feldin had been contracted to marry the following summer.

‘What was he like? Jevikel asked her, as soon as he was able. ‘Was he good looking?’

Kemi shrugged. ‘He wasn’t ugly.’ She didn’t sound very enthusiastic.

‘Is that all?’

She looked at the floor. ‘It was awful. I felt like a herdbeast at auction. Feldin and I sat at opposite ends of the room while our fathers wrangled over the marriage settlement. His mother said I looked like good breeding stock, although I could do with fattening up. His father kept looking at me like he was undressing me in his mind. Every time he had the chance, he put his hands on me.’

‘Oh.’ There wasn’t anything to be said about that. ‘Did you tell father?’

‘I did, but he insisted I was being silly. “All men like to admire a pretty young girl,” he said. “It doesn’t mean anything.” I don’t want to go there again.’

Jevikel knew her well enough to tell she was scared. He wished he could do more to help other than holding her hand and listening. ‘You should say something to mother.’

‘I tried, as soon as we got back. She just agreed with everything father said. They don’t care. It’s all about marks to them. And “a valuable alliance with one of the valley farmers.”’ Kemi mimicked their mother’s tones.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said quietly. ‘But it’s a Turn away. Maybe there’ll be a plague and he’ll die. Or I will.’

‘Don’t talk like that.’ There had to be something they could do. He just didn’t know what. ‘I could try talking to them.’

‘You’ll only get another beating.’ Kemi squeezed his hand. ‘It’s best for me to go along with it. For now, anyway.’

Now that she was betrothed, Kemi spent even more time inside the Hold, learning the necessary skills to run a household. The few times she laughed too loudly or didn’t seem to be taking her tasks seriously enough, she received glares from the other women and slaps from their mother to remind her she was too old for all that nonsense.

Jevikel was mending a panel in the barn before the stock came in for winter, when she found him there.

‘Thought I’d never manage to get away,’ she said. ‘But I needed to get out, if only for a short time. They’re watching my every move.’

‘I’ve noticed.’

‘Even granny’s horrible to me these days,’ she went on. ‘I can’t seem to do anything right.’

‘They want to make sure you don’t disgrace the family name, I suppose.’ Jevikel had heard that said by his mother during one of her many lectures to Kemi.

‘But I won’t! I’m still the same person as I was before. It just seems like no one trusts me any more. And you know why?’

He shook his head.

‘Father’s younger sister was betrothed to a landowner in the south of Bitra. Anyway, she fell in love with someone else. Then she ran away with him - the one she loved - and got married before anyone could stop her. Scandalous, it was.’

‘What happened to her?’

‘They didn’t say. I overheard the other part when I was helping in the cheese room. But that’s why I reckon they’re being so hard on me.’

‘Not like you’d get much chance to fall in love with someone else up here.’ That raised a smile. Jevikel felt even more sorry for her plight.

‘Maybe I could do the same.’ She dropped her voice. ‘Run away, that is.’

‘It’d be dangerous.’ If she was caught, he didn’t like to think what the consequences would be.

‘Better than going like a beast to slaughter. Do you think I could slip away, down in Valley Narrows?’

‘It’s not that big a place to hide. Besides, won’t everyone be watching you when we go for the wedding?’

‘There is that.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe I should just hope the dragonriders come back again.’

The last time had been three Turns ago. He’d been sent to the caves behind the hill with a few other boys, while the older girls had huddled at the back of the cheese store. Although he didn’t believe the rumours about dragon fodder anymore, the stories about young folk being taken to work as drudges at the Weyr could be true. ‘That might be a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire.’

‘It might be, but I don’t think it is. When I was down at Valley Narrows, I heard more about the new Weyrwoman. All of her family were slaughtered by Fax when he invaded Ruatha. The dragonriders saved her. She went to the Weyr with them and now has her own dragon.’

Kemi was clutching at straws. ‘Still wouldn’t like to take my chances with them.’

‘Kemi!’ They both turned at the sharp sound of their mother’s voice.

‘I’d best go. Don’t want you to get into trouble, too.’ Kemi placed her hands in Jevikel’s. ‘Thanks for listening, though.’ In a moment she’d gone, leaving him alone to his mending.

While he worked, he thought about what she’d said. He’d never heard of anyone running away from Pinnacle. Mind you, it must have happened before he was born. For a moment, the possibility seemed dizzying. Except where would you go, even if you did? How would you live, away from the support of your family Hold?

The first snow fell early in tenth month; just a light dusting. Jevikel and Berrand's assigned job for winter was to make sure the herdbeasts had fresh water both in their pens and in the barn, where some of them chose to shelter. Often, this meant breaking ice on the troughs and carrying pails down from the spring just outside the main Hold, which never froze over. The older lads made sure there was plenty of fodder available, digging out roots from the storage pile and distributing hay. When the weather was fine, the men worked on repairing the stone walls separating the pens.

Although it was chilly outdoors, Jevikel enjoyed being away from the closeness of the Hold. When he looked up into the mountains, snow already covered the dark peaks, giving them an austere beauty. Somewhere up there lay the Weyr. It must be really cold at those heights, but maybe the dragons didn’t mind. And the people were too busy having orgies to worry about it. Jevikel had often found his mind wandering to what Sarrando had said, even though he knew Sarrando was only repeating gossip. If there was only a grain of truth in it, though; that anyone could have sex with anyone else without censure, there was a certain appeal.

The other boys closest to his age were starting to notice girls in a new way. Lengiorl was particularly taken by Sisala’s steadily swelling breasts and kept trying to find ways to peek into the women’s quarters in the hope of seeing her naked. Jevikel found he was more interested in Lengiorl’s muscular body as he climbed the rocks to look through the ventilation duct. Forcing himself not to look; not to give anything away was becoming second nature these days. He wasn’t looking forward to the worst of the winter weather, when he’d only be able to get out to do his chores. Hopefully, it would be a mild winter, not one of those where snow kept everyone Hold-bound for a month or more.

Dusk came early and dawn late. Before breakfast, he and Berrand had to go out to check the troughs. Most mornings now, they were frozen over and the pair of them could barely carry water fast enough to slake the animals thirst. There’d been some talk a few Turns back about running pipes down from the spring, but Vikkel had said it would be too expensive. ‘No need when there are plenty of young hands to fetch and carry,’ he’d said.

It was clear and frosty, light starting to seep into the sky. Over in the east, that reddish coloured star seemed larger than he remembered from the previous Turn. He nudged Berrand.

‘What?’ He emptied his second pail.

‘That star over there. It’s bigger than it used to be.’

Berrand looked up at it. ‘Think it’s gonna crash into us?’

‘No. Stars don’t do that.’

‘My grandpa said he once found a rock that fell from the sky. It were still warm when he picked it up.’

Jevikel had seen shooting stars, too. This seemed different, somehow. Still, no one else at the Hold seemed concerned about it and he’d been told often enough to listen to those who were older and wiser. ‘Probably nothing to worry about. After all, the moons look big sometimes and they’ve never hit us.’ He got on with his work. Another four trips should do it.

In twelfth month, just two sevendays before Turn’s End, a coughing sickness went around. It was always that way, when people were inside most of the time. Jevikel only caught it mildly, but Berrand was ill enough to take to his bed, his mother dosing him with a foul-smelling herbal medicine several times a day. It took Jevikel far longer to fetch water on his own, but he didn’t expect any help. It was his duty, after all.

An unexpected mild spell made his work easier and gave him the chance to clean out the troughs. Sometimes, the beasts put their front hooves in the water, fouling it with mud and dung. He’d already swilled out and re-filled the ones in the outdoor pens before going to check those inside the barn.

He’d barely stepped through the archway, when he heard something. A few animals were inside, munching on hay and bleating softly, but these sounds were definitely human. It was common knowledge among the Hold’s young folk that the barn was one of the few places they could go for privacy. Despite knowing he shouldn’t, curiosity drove him on. Maybe it was Lengiorl and Sisala? They’d been courting each other for the past month or so, but inside the Hold, nothing much more than holding hands or a few chaste kisses were allowed.

Gently, so as not to make a noise himself, he set down the pail and crept forward. The partition he’d mended earlier in the Turn separated the area where the beasts were penned from the fodder stores. He climbed it carefully, conscious of his breathing and his booted feet brushing the hay aside, although judging from the sounds they were making, they wouldn’t be aware of anyone else. Come to think of it, there was nothing girlish about either of the voices.

Jevikel stopped in his tracks. He didn’t want to know, yet he did, so much. He became instantly hard, although that wasn’t unusual these days. His heart was pounding so strongly he was sure anyone must be able to hear it, whatever they were about. Yet he couldn’t turn back. They must be just the other side of the root store. Just a few more steps and he’d be able to see…

Col leaned back into the hay pile. Rosh was kissing him feverishly. Both had their trousers undone and from the way their hands were working he knew exactly what they were about, even though Rosh’s back prevented him from actually seeing anything. He could imagine it well enough and wanted desperately to touch himself. That would be stupid, though. If he got carried away - which he would - they’d definitely realise someone was watching. Especially as, judging by the increasing intensity of the moans one, or both of them were almost there. Quickly, he ducked back out of sight, the sounds creating images in his mind he knew he’d recall later, in his own bed. Most nights, he heard other lads taking care of themselves, just as he did. Except that most of them were probably thinking about the Hold girls. Now he knew at least two others weren’t.

Climbing carefully back over the partition he banged the bucket as if he’d just come in, splashing water into the trough.

He wanted to say something to them. They were taking such a risk. Anyone could have walked in just as he had done and some, he knew, would have taken great pleasure in reporting it to his father. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to mention it. That would mean letting them know that he’d spied on them. It had been so wrong and yet, if he could go back, he knew he’d do the same again. After that, though, he noticed the way they sometimes caught each other’s eye. Small smiles meant only for each other. Now he was aware of it, it seemed so blatant. How could anyone else not see the obvious?

Turn’s End passed by. The feast was modest, although the taste of the spiced pies and roasted tubers were a memory to savour until the next time. Spices were far too expensive to be wasted on everyday fare, as his mother always said.

This Turn, there was even more reason to scrimp and save. The preparations for Kemi’s wedding were expensive. A special dress was being made for her over the winter months. Col’s mother, Lorell, the Hold’s best seamstress, was doing most of the cutting and shaping of the garment, although the other women worked on the trimmings and adornment. All the rest of the family were having new clothes for the occasion, too.

Jevikel grabbed Kemi after she’d been released from yet another fitting. He’d got the last pieces of Turn’s End cake from the kitchen and they sat in one of the alcoves together, eating it, while everyone was busy measuring the younger ones. They’d not had many chances to talk together and while this wasn’t totally private, it was the closest they’d get to it.

‘Better not eat too much of this,’ she said, with a wry look. ‘I might get too big to fit the dress.’

Jevikel glanced around. No one was paying them any attention for now. ‘That might be a way out. Too fat to marry.’

Kemi took a bite. ‘Mother would just lock me in a store room on bread and water until I slimmed down again.’

‘Had any more thoughts?’

‘A few, but right now I’m being the good girl and playing along with everything.’

‘I’d noticed.’

‘Let’s not talk about it in here. Just in case.’ She brushed crumbs from her fingers and raised her voice slightly. ‘I’m so excited about my wedding. And it’ll be your turn next.’

Jevikel’s heart sank. All right, it wouldn’t be for a few Turns, but the inevitability made it feel as if the Hold walls were closing in on him. Get married, raise a family, take over the running of Pinnacle when Vikkel became too old. ‘What if I don’t want to be married?’

‘Don’t be stupid. Everyone does. You’ll feel differently about it when you’re a bit older. You know Gatri has her eye on you?’ Kemi kept to that light, chatty tone. Only Jevikel was close enough to see the sadness in her eyes.

‘Gatri! Really.’ He played along.

‘She told me, just the other day. Hey, little brother, you aren’t bad looking, you know.’

‘She’s all right, I suppose.’ This was one area in which he couldn’t even tell Kemi how he really felt. Gatri was pretty, with fine blond hair, which all the women admired for its rarity. He couldn’t imagine kissing her, though.

Kemi went on. ‘Boys are allowed to have some fun before marriage. You don’t have to worry about falling pregnant.’

‘What? I’m not going to do anything like that.’ He knew about breeding, naturally, having grown up on a farm. Doing that with a girl would be even worse than kissing.

‘Like I said, you’re still a bit young.’ She dropped her voice slightly again. ‘But Lengiorl’s only a Turn and a half older than you and he and Sisala… well, I won’t say what she’s told me.’

Lengiorl had already boasted about what they’d been up to. ‘I know,’ he said. It seemed so unfair. When they held hands at dinner, the old women gave nods of approval. Rosh and Col had to hide their feelings, except when they could snatch time alone.

‘They’ll be married before I am if she’s not careful.’ Kemi stared at Sisala. ‘Still, at least they’re in love.’

First month was always the worst for snow, even though the days were lengthening. The pregnant beasts’ bellies were noticeably swollen by now and they needed extra fodder for the young they carried. Hard to believe, at this bleak time of the Turn that in just two months or so they’d be turned out onto the hills to give birth. He’d probably be up there with them full time, now he was older, staying in the shelters and fending for himself. He looked forward to the freedom.

A thaw came early in second month, making the fields a sea of slush and freezing mud. Jevikel’s feet were seldom dry as he trudged to and from the spring with buckets that had seemed heavy at the beginning of winter, but now felt a lot easier to carry. Nowadays, he always whistled and made plenty of noise when going inside the barn, just in case. Rosh and Col had good reason to be there, fetching animal fodder, but he knew they also used the opportunity to snatch some time together. Afterwards, he wished he’d warned them to be more careful, although he didn’t know if it would have made much difference.

One afternoon, Sarrando and Merri decided they wanted some private time. When Sarrando went to to meet her, he found Col and Rosh already there.

‘Doing dreadful things,’ Jemina said, much later. ‘Unnatural things.’

Jevikel’s first hint anything was amiss was when Sarrando strode back into the Hold. Vikkel sat at the hearth, talking with a couple of other men over a mug of klah. Jevikel didn’t catch much of what was being said, although he saw Sarrando pointing towards the barn. Suddenly, Vikkel sprang to his feet, throwing the mug and its contents into the fire, where it steamed and spat. The air became thick with tension.

‘What’s goin’ on?’ Berrand looked up from the dice game they’d been playing.

‘Don’t know, but I don’t reckon it’s anything good.’

Several of the men followed Vikkel out, Sarrando managing to look both righteous and smug. It wasn’t long before others made their way over to the door, craning their necks to get a better view. Jevikel heard shouting from the yard. His father’s voice boomed above the rest.

Only as people cleared the door, streaming outside into the grey murk of the winter day, was he able to see what was happening.

Rosh and Col had been dragged out into the muddy yard. Two men held Col as Vikkel roared at Rosh, cuffing him to punctuate the string of curses. Rosh backed away. He might be a fighter, but he had more sense than to attack a Holder. When he’d retreated as far as he could, a couple of other workers pushed him back into the loose circle, while another threw Vikkel a heavy herder’s staff.

Jevikel could barely watch. When it came to punishing workers - or family - his father usually remained in control, but every once in a while he lost his temper with someone and really knocked them about. This looked as if it was going to be one of those occasions.

Vikkel hit Rosh hard on the side of the head. He collapsed onto the cobbles. Blood mingled with the mud. For a moment, Jevikel wondered if his father had killed the lad, but then he saw a slight movement. As Rosh struggled, Vikkel kicked him viciously in the ribs, twice.

Lorell elbowed her way past the ring of people. ‘Don’t hurt my Col,’ she pleaded. ‘It’s that other one who turned his head.’

Vikkel turned on her. ‘I won’t have perverts under my roof, he bellowed.

She recoiled for a moment, then tried a second time. ‘Please. He’s a good boy. He’ll not do it again.’

She grabbed Vikkel’s sleeve. Everything from that moment happened very fast. Vikkel backhanded her across the face. She would have fallen, too, if a couple of the men hadn’t caught her and drawn her back into the crowd. Jevikel heard gasps of shock.

Col hadn’t moved until then but seeing his mother hurt gave him strength. He wrenched himself free and ran forward at Vikkel. ‘Leave my mum alone!’

Vikkel swung the staff and put him on the floor too, then beat him savagely several times as Col rolled instinctively into a ball, protecting his head. Most people were looking away by now, the women covering their faces. Rosh tried to get up, but another kick sent him spinning. The thud of blows mingled with cries of pain. A small child began to cry.

Finally, Vikkel finished, anger burned out. He threw the staff down with a clatter. ‘Get off my land, both of you!’ he shouted, his breath sending gouts of steam into the cold air. With one final kick at Col, he thrust the crowd aside and strode back towards the open Hold door.

Lorell, bleeding from a cut below her eye, tried to go to her son, but two of the men prevented her. ‘Leave him. He don’t deserve help.’

‘You bastards,’ she cried, as she was dragged back.

Jevikel felt numb with shock. It was late afternoon and would only be light for another hour or so. Did his father expect them to just leave, with no winter clothing and in that state? He looked around, to see if anyone was intending to help and spotted his mother among a group of women. He knew interfering was dangerous, but he couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

‘Mother.’ He went up to her. ‘Shall I at least fetch their coats from the Hold?’

‘Your father wouldn’t like it.’

‘Maybe. But I’d rather he didn’t end up accused of murder, either.’ He saw from her face that one had hit home.

‘Do as you please, then. You’re old enough to know your own mind.’

Berrand ran after him. ‘Jevikel! Don’t. What if your da does the same to you?’

Jevikel didn’t think that was likely. Sure, he might get a beating, but it would just be an ordinary one and he’d survived a few of those. Vikkel wouldn’t lose his temper again like that for a while, based on past observation. ‘It’ll be fine,’ he said.

Back inside, his father was nowhere to be seen. Jevikel went into the boys sleeping room and found the coats hanging up. He also picked up their personal items and stuffed them into a bag. Pausing, he went to his own storage box and dropped in a couple of marks he’d saved. It wasn’t as if he had anything to spend them on, after all. Then, before his courage waned, or anyone thought to stop him, he went back out again into the cold.

Rosh had managed to sit up. He looked in a bad way. Col was retching and coughing, spitting out blood and what looked like bits of tooth.

‘Here. All of your stuff’s in this bag.’ He handed the coats to them. ‘You’d best be gone before my father sees. If I were you, I’d head for that shelter off to the left of the road for the night, then get down to Valley Narrows in the morning.’

‘Thanks.’ Rosh shrugged into his coat, wincing. ‘Why? Why’re you helpin’?’

‘Because it’s not fair.’

Rosh looked him straight in the eye. ‘Life’s not fair.’

When he turned for a last look, before going back inside a Hold that felt more like a trap than ever, he saw them, leaning on each other as they limped down the track.