Nerilka's Story

by Anne McCaffrey

  "Good to hear, lord, good to hear." Sal's words were directed more to the runners than to Alessan.

  "But, " Alessan grinned apologetically to the two men ", before we can start collecting blood for the serum, we have to have a clean and totally uncontaminated place in which to work."

  Pol began rolling up his sleeve. "There isn't much my brother and I wouldn't do to help you, lord. We've scrubbed before, we can scrub again."

  "Good then," Alessan said with a grin. "Because if we don't do it right the first time, journeywoman Desdra will make us do it all over again until we have! She'll be here tomorrow to check on our labors."

  When we reached the courtyard before the Hold door, Tuero, a man named to me as Deefer, five fosterlings, and four of the convalescent farm holders were constructing a strange device from cart wheels.

  "We'll have several of these centrifuges with which to separate the miracle serum from the blood," Alessan told us. The brothers nodded as if they knew exactly what he was talking about, though some confusion and surprise showed on Sal's face.

  Oklina met us in the Hall, leading out the procession of drudges with their buckets of hot water, cleaning rags, and brooms. She carried containers which I recognized as those generally used to store the strong cleaning fluid. We all rolled up our sleeves and I noticed that Alessan's hands were red already, though there was only a fainter tinge of red on his upper arms. Then we all set to scrubbing.

  We scrubbed until the glowbaskets were lit, scrubbed even as we munched with meatrolls in one hand and tried to ignore the faint taste of astringency that the overpowering aroma of redwort invariably gave to anything in its vicinity. We scrubbed until the first sets of glowbaskets had to be replaced.

  Alessan had to shake me several times before I left off the scrubbing motion and realized that the others had quit this labor. "You're all but asleep and still scrubbing, Rill," he said, but he spoke with such a kind sort of raillery that I gave him a rueful grin.

  I had barely enough energy to follow Oklina up the stairs to the first story inner room that she assigned me. I remembered that I bade her goodnight as I closed the door. I knew I should plan a few words to say to Desdra on her arrival the next day, so that she would not expose me as Tolocamp's mutinous daughter, but the moment I fell across the bed, I fell asleep.

  Chapter 8

  3.21.43, 3.22.43

  I woke, startled, as people do at finding themselves in a strange place, and had to reassure myself that I was not back in my room at Fort Hold. It was silence that I heard so palpably, a silence that confused me more than did the slightly strange surroundings. Then I isolated the difference, no drums at all. I rose and dressed, and began my first full day at Ruatha.

  I was in the Hall, drinking klah and eating a quick breakfast of porridge when Desdra arrived on Arith. We all went out at the commotion for the little dragon was once again draped with many bottles, the large apprentice size and the smaller ones for the all important serum.

  I had no chance to speak with Desdra, for Alessan singled me out with the two brothers and took us off to the field to begin the next step in making the serum.

  Either the animals were apathetic from their recent illness or they had been well handled, so we were each able to lead in two at a time. A second and third trip filled all the stalls in the beasthold, then Alessan demonstrated how to draw blood from the neck vein. All the creatures kindly submitted to this bloodletting. Sal and I began to work as a team, and when I saw that he had little stomach for inserting the needlethorn, I took over that job as he held each runner's head.

  It was full noon before we had finished with the twenty four beasts. After each drawing, the blood was decanted into the great apprentice jars, then transported to the Hall and secured onto the cartwheel centrifuges. Though I was not the only one dubious about the device, much less the process, Desdra's attitude towards the manufacture was so reassuringly calm that we didn't question anything. As soon as she had checked the fastenings, she motioned the crews of men to begin spinning the wheels. The men changed places at the flywheels frequently, always keeping the speed of the whirling at the same pace. I thought briefly what a mess one loose jar could make of the Hall, and all our cleaning to be done again, and then decided that such ruminations were unsuited to the general air of hope and industry in Ruatha.

  Oklina passed among us then, with a hearty soup and warm bread rolls. When Desdra finally joined us, many of us crammed at one long trestle table and others leaning against the walls, she explained the urgency of our monumental task. Only a mass and instantaneous inoculation of threatened runners would prevent the plague from recurring. Everyone in Ruatha Hold would have some part in this enterprise, for the plague must not be permitted to have a second chance at decimating the continent. The news created a hushed silence.

  While awaiting the results of the first batch, Pol, Sal, and I went back to the beasthold to see how our patients did. Dag was already mixing them a hearty meal of warmed bran with a fortified wine and some herbs, which the old handler said would strengthen the new blood. Then we groomed them well, taking the mud and burrs from their tails and manes.

  Despite his splinted right leg. Dag worked right along with us. What he couldn't do for himself was accomplished by his grandson, a rascally, impudent, possessive lad named Fergal. He seemed suspicious of everyone, especially of Alessan when the lord came to see how the beasts had stood up to the bloodletting. The only person whose bidding Fergal would ever do without quibble was Oklina. Every other order he contested with questions that were sheer impudence. Dag, he adored. Obviously he thought the bandy, legged little runner handler could do no wrong. But, for all his insolence, Fergal was patently dedicated to the beasts. A very pregnant mare took most of his caring; swollen though she was in the last days of gestation, she had a way of cocking her head, ears pricking forward and whuffling at Fergal in a manner I thought most ingratiating.

  "The first batch should be done soon," Alessan announced suddenly.

  I was amused that, of the group working with the beasts, Fergal and I were the only ones eager to see the result. Pol and Sal ensconced themselves on bales for a comfortable chat with Dag, politely declining the invitation to see the finished serum.

  What startled me was the odd straw, yellow fluid that was the product of this centrifugal process. By the time we got to the Hall, Desdra was already drawing it from one jar, explaining how this should be done without stirring up the darker residue. Under her direction, we tentatively began to imitate her, drawing the clear fluid from the jar, placing it in the glass bottles, using a clean needlethorn with each insertion to reduce the possibility of contamination. Ruthlessly, Desdra employed everyone at the Hall at this task, even three of the strongest convalescents, constantly moving among us to oversee the task.

  "We should have more bottles this afternoon," Tuero told us. He meant to be cheerful but was rewarded by groans from all the workforce. "M'barak said he'd pass the word of our need during Fall."

  "How much of this junk do we gotta have?" Fergal asked. He glanced out toward the fields where his beloved runners grazed.

  "Enough to inoculate the mares and foals of the remaining herds in Keroon, Telgar, Ruatha, Fort, Boll, Igen, and Ista," Alessan said. I stifled a groan at the quantities that would be required.

  "Ista doesn't breed runners. It's an island," Fergal said belligerently.

  "It suffered the plague, man and beast," Tuero said when Alessan did not reply. "Keroon and Telgar are also producing this serum, so Ruatha doesn't have to do it all."

  "Ruatha has that much, at least, to give Pern," Alessan added, as if no other comments had been made. "We will insure that the best possible serum comes from our beasts. Let us return to our tasks."

  And so we persevered. Those who had not fully recovered were put to sitting at sinks to scrub glassware or securely stopper the serum bottles and insert them in reed holders. The youngest became messengers or, in pairs, carefully carried crates o
f serum down to the cool rooms.

  My job was bleeding runners. It was almost a relief to leave the pervading stench of redwort to bring my patient victim back to the field and collect another one. At least I had some fresh air. Dag had started marking the bled ones with paint so we wouldn't inadvertently get two lots from the same beast. None of them were strong enough for that. My frequent walks also gave me a chance to observe ruined Ruatha, as Alessan called it. I could see that only a little time and effort would be required to put a lot of the ruin to rights, and I worked out the strategy going to and fro, planning all that I would do if I had the right to meddle in Ruathan affairs. A harmless enough pastime, to be sure.

  The drums had begun midmorning, telling us what quantities were needed and which dragonriders would collect what amounts. Alessan explained that the quantities had to be listed accurately, but he really couldn't spare Tuero to listen to drum codes.

  "Then have Rill do it," Desdra said bluntly.

  "Can you understand drum messages. Rill?" Alessan asked, somewhat surprised. I had been taken so unaware that I couldn't answer. I had even begun to think that Desdra had not recognized Tolocamp's daughter in grimy, sweaty, short‑haired Rill.

  "And probably the codes as well, isn't that right. Rill?" Desdra was quite ruthless, but at least she did not explain to anyone how she knew so much about my unmentioned skills. "She can fill serum bottles between messages. She needs a bit of sit down time. She's been going full pelt for some days now."

  I took that to mean that Desdra approved of my labors here and at the internment camp and was permitting me my whimsy. Fortunately, not even Alessan questioned how a drudge who had risen to volunteer healer understood such arcane matters. But I was indeed grateful for the chance to sit down. How Alessan kept up his level of energy, I do not know. I could see why Suriana had admired as well as adored him. He deserved respect, and he had mine for new reasons at every turn. I could also perceive that he was driven. Somehow, despite all the brutal odds against him, Alessan was going to restore Ruatha Hold, repeople its vacant holds, restock its empty fields. I wanted to stay on here, and help him.

  I was also discovering that once back in a formal Hall, I automatically assumed familiar responsibilities, such as ordering drudges to tasks or explaining how to do a job more efficiently. Fortunately, no one questioned my right to do so when it was all in the best interest of the work at hand.

  Despite a deceptively frail appearance, Oklina worked as hard as her brother, but the sheer press of her obligations appalled me, who had always had sisters to ease burdens. Whenever I could, I lent her a hand. She wasn't a pretty girl, which the uncharitable might say was one reason I related to her so easily, for the dark complexion and strong features that became a man suited her no better than my family resemblance suited me. But she was an exceptionally graceful young woman, with a charming smile and great, dark, expressive eyes in which lurked a sort of secret bemusement. I often caught her gazing toward the northwest and wondered if she had fallen in love with some young man. She would make an excellent holder's wife, young though she was, and I devoutly hoped that Alessan would not require her to remain at Ruatha, but would settle her with a kind and generous man. Ruatha might be poverty, stricken now, but the prestige of the Bloodline was still undisputed. Nor would this altruistic labor on the serum, so willingly undertaken by Alessan and Oklina, reduce them in the estimation of their peers.

  And so we worked on, turning from one urgent and necessary task to another, ladling a quick cup of soup from the pot simmering on the main hearth, or chewing from a hunk of fresh bread in a free hand and a spare moment. From somewhere, fresh fruit had appeared, one of the dragonriders was dropping off supplies. Why ripe melon slices would cause Oklina's eyes to tear, I could not then fathom. I doubted that she was so moved by the thoughtfulness behind the gift. Then I noticed that Alessan regarded the fruit with a soft smile of reminiscence, but he was off to work again so quickly, bread in one hand, the melon slice in the other, that I could have been wrong. Then another message came in, and I had to listen to record the message accurately.

  Time had lost all order in the press of work. On my third day at Ruatha, all but a few of us had gone outside to eat a delayed and well deserved evening meal when suddenly Alessan, Desdra, and Tuero, consulting the maps, lists, and charts, gave out whoops of exultation.

  "We've done it, my loyal crew!" Alessan shouted. "We've got enough! And enough over the requirement to take care of any spillage and breakage in dispatching. It's wine all round! Oklina, take Rill and get four flasks from my private store."

  He tossed her a long slim key, which she caught deftly in midair. She grabbed my hand and, laughing with delight, hauled me to the kitchen and then on down to the stores, beyond the cold room.

  "He is really pleased. Rill. He rarely parts with bottles of his own store." She giggled again. "He guards them for a special purpose." Then her charming little face saddened. "And I hope he will again," she added cryptically. "He must soon in any case. Here we are."

  When she had unlocked the narrow door and showed me the racked flasks and wineskins, I gasped in astonishment. Even in the dim light from the glowbasket down the corridor, I could see the distinctive Benden flask. Quickly I dusted off a label.

  "It is Benden white," I cried.

  "You've had Benden white wine?"

  "No, of course not." Tolocamp would not have approved of his daughters drinking rare vintages; the foxy Tillek pressings were good enough for us. "But I've heard about it." I managed to giggle. "Is it really as good as they say?"

  "You can judge for yourself, Rill."

  She locked the door again, then relieved me of half the burden.

  "Did you finish your training at the Healer Hall, Rill?"

  "No, no." Somehow I could not lie to Oklina even if it meant demeaning myself in her eyes. "I volunteered to help nurse, as I wasn't needed any longer in my own Hold."

  "Oh, did your husband die of the plague?"

  "I have none."

  "Well, Alessan will see to that. That is, of course, if you wish to stay on in Ruatha. You've been such a help Rill, and you seem to understand a great deal about Hold management. I mean, we shall have to start all over again, so many of our people died. There are many holds empty, and while Alessan is going to approach the holdless in hopes that some are suitable, I'd rather have a few people about us whom we already know and trust. Oh, Rill, I'm putting this so badly. But Alessan asked me to sound you out about staying on here at Ruatha. He has great respect for you. You have been such a help. Tuero, " Oklina giggled again, "plans to stay, no matter how he and Alessan go on about the salary and perks."

  That discussion had been running between harper and Lord Holder whenever they passed each other or worked on a common chore. Tuero had come to the Gather with other harpers to assist the Hold's regular harper, another victim, as were Tuero's companions. I couldn't imagine Ruatha Hold without Alessan and Tuero bickering in the most amiable fashion.

  When we returned to the Main Hall, the men had stacked some of the cartwheels and the large jars back against the wall. Alessan and Tuero were clearing space on the trestle table, where we had been consuming our hasty meals. Dag and Fergal came up from the kitchen with the stew; Deefer brought plates and cutlery; Desdra had an armful of bread loaves and a huge wooden bowl full of fruit and cheeses, including the one forwarded by Lady Gana. I wouldn't have thought that that would have lasted past my bringing it here. Follen arrived with the cups and the cork pull.

  Outside I could hear the subdued revelry of the others who had now been released from their unremitting labors of the past two days.

  So it was only the eight of Alessan's loyal crew, an odd assortment to sit down at any table for any meal, but the knowledge of an almost impossible task timely completed made companions of us all, even Fergal. He refused a cup of wine with an insolence that I'm certain Alessan excused only because the boy had worked so hard. I'd wager that Fergal was as know
ledgeable about such restricted treats as anyone else here. Fergal's sort is born knowing. In spite of his impudence and suspicious nature, I did like the boy.

  That dinner was a very happy event for me. Alessan had taken the seat next to me, and I found his proximity strangely agitating. I tried to avoid touching him, but we were rather crowded on the benches, companionably so for everyone else. Since he was close to me, his arm resting on the table touched mine, occasionally his thigh brushed mine, and he grinned at me when Tuero said something particularly amusing. My heart raced, and I knew that my answering laugh was a little high and foolish. I was tired, I expect, overreacting to the success we were celebrating, and very much unused to the fine white Benden wine.

  Then Alessan leaned against me deliberately, touching my forearm with his fingertips. My skin tingled.

  "What's your opinion of the Benden, Rill?"

  "It's made me giddy," I replied quickly so that if he noticed my unusual behavior, he would know the reason, even though I wished to do nothing to lower myself in his good opinion.

  "We all need to relax tonight. We all deserve it."

  "You more than anyone else, Alessan."

  He shrugged and looked down at his cup, his fingers idly twisting it around by the stem. "I do what I must," he said, speaking in a low voice. The others were involved in an argument.

  "For Ruatha," I murmured.

  He looked at me, mildly surprised at my rejoinder, his strange green flecked eyes for once candid. "That's perceptive of you, Rill. Have I been such a hard taskmaster?"

  "Not for Ruatha's sake."

  "This, " he waved his hand at the cartwheels and empty jars, "has not been for Ruatha's sake."

  "Oh, but it has. You said so yourself. Ruatha can do this much for Pern."

  He gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. But his smile was kind, and I think he was pleased.