Keenly aware that she must be properly modest and forbearing, as well as brave, Tenna braced herself for the treatment. Hot poultices, however therapeutic, could be somewhat uncomfortable. Then the mixture was ready. With deft fingers, Healer Beveny deposited neat blobs, no larger than his thumbnail, on the sore spots. He must have judged the heat just right, because none were too hot. He made sure to position the patches right over each blob before securing them with bandage strips that Penda had produced. Tenna felt each of the ten hot spots, but the sensation was not all that unpleasant.
“I’ll check tomorrow, Tenna, but I don’t think we have to worry about any of them,” Beveny said with such conviction that Tenna was relieved.
“Nor do you, here at Fort Station with the Healer Hall a stretch away,” said Torlo, and courteously saw Beveny to the door and watched a polite few moments until the healer was halfway to his Hall.
“Nice fella,” he said to anyone listening, and smiled at Tenna. “Ah, here’s the food.”
Evidently that meal had been held up for her to be treated, because now Penda led in the drudge carrying the roast platter with others behind him, laden with large bowls of steaming food.
“Rosa,” she said, pointing to one of the female runners, “get the board. Spacia, grab a fork and spoon for Tenna. She’s not to move. Grolly, her glass is empty … .” As she directed the others to serve the injured runner, she herself carved fine slices from the roasted ribs of herdbeast. “The rest of you, get on line.”
Tenna’s embarrassment returned, waited on as she was by Rosa and Spacia, who cheerfully performed their assigned tasks. Always she had been the one to help, so this situation was quite novel. Of course, it was also a runner thing, to be cosseted in need, but she’d never been the recipient before.
Two more batches of runners arrived in from south and east. When they came back from bathing, they had to be told all about Haligon’s forcing Tenna off the trace and how she had sticklebush punctures that were severe enough to require a healer. She got the distinct impression that almost everyone had had a run-in with this infamous Haligon, or knew someone who had. Eventually the tale had been told to everyone and the conversation changed to talk of the Gather three days hence.
Tenna sighed softly to herself. Three days? She’d be fully recovered by then and have to run on. She really did want to get the extra stitches for her first Cross. A Gather, even one at Fort, was not as important as upgrading herself. Well, nearly. It wasn’t as if this were the last Gather she’d ever have a chance to attend, even if it was the first for her at the First Hold on Pern.
This was home station for two girls. Rosa had a cap of very tight dark curls and a pert face with mischievous eyes. Spacia, with long blond hair tied back, runner-wise, had a more dignified way about her although she kept up a wickedly bantering conversation with the younger male runners among others there. Then there was an informal concert for Tenna, some of the newer songs that the Harper Hall was airing. Rosa led, Spacia adding an alto line while three of the other runners joined in, one with a little whistle and the others with their voices. The evening became quite enjoyable, especially as either Grolly or Torlo kept filling Tenna’s wineglass.
Rosa and Spacia helped her up the stairs, one on either side of her, with the excuse that the bandages mustn’t loosen. They chattered about what they intended to wear to the Gather and who they hoped to dance with.
“We’re on line tomorrow,” Rosa said as they got her to her bed, “so we’ll probably be off before you get down. Those poultices ought to do the trick.”
They both wished her a good night’s sleep. Her head was spinning as she lay down, but pleasantly, and she drifted into sleep very quickly.
Torlo arrived with a tray of food just as she was waking up.
“Not as sore today?”
“Not all over but my leg …” She pulled the quilt back so he could see.
“Hmmm. Need more on that one. Went in at an angle. I’m calling Beveny.”
“Oh, really … I’d rather … Surely Penda knows what the healer made up for me …”
“She does, but we want the healer to speak about your injuries to Lord Groghe.”
Tenna was dismayed now. A runner didn’t go to the Lord Holder without real cause for complaint, and her injuries were not that serious.
“Now, see here, young runner,” and Torlo waggled a finger at her, “I’m station master and I say we take this to the Lord Holder on account of it shouldna happened at all.”
Beveny recommended a long soak in the tub and provided her with an astringent to use in the water.
“I’ll leave more poultice with Penda. We want that final sliver out. See …” and he pointed to the thin, almost invisible hairs of the sticklebush which had come from the arm puncture. “We want another of these fellows on the pad, not in you.”
Two more had also erupted from the puncture wounds, and he carefully covered all three pads with glass slides, which he tied together.
“Soak at least an hour, Tenna,” he told her. “You’re to take it very handy today, too. Don’t want that sliver to work any further down in your flesh.”
She shuddered at the thought of an evil-looking hair loose in her body.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be out by evening,” Beveny said, grinning reassuringly. “And you’ll be dancing with us.”
“Oh, I’ll have to run on as soon as I’m able,” she said earnestly.
Beveny’s grin broadened. “What? And do me out of my dance with you?” Then his expression turned professional. “I can’t release you as fit to run yet, you know. I’d want to see those puncture marks healing. Especially in the shin, where just the dirt and dust of a run could be embedded and cause a repeat infection. The wounds may seem,” and he emphasized the word, “insignificant but I’ve tended a lot of runners and I know the hazards of the trace.”
“Oh,” Tenna said meekly.
“Right. Oh!” And he grinned again, pressing her shoulder with a kindly squeeze. “You will make your first Cross. Now rest. You runners are a breed apart, you know.”
With that reminder, he left her to make her way to the bathing room.
Rosa, Spacia, Grolly—in fact, all the runners at the Fort Station—were in and out, groaning over the special messages that needed to be delivered to the Fort crafthalls, the Lord Holder, the Harper Hall, coming from the “backside of beyond” as Rosa termed it.
“Don’t mind us,” Rosa said when Tenna began to feel as if she ought to be doing her share. “It’s always like this just before a Gather and we always complain, but the Gather makes up for it. Which reminds me, you don’t have anything to wear.”
“Oh, no, don’t worry about me … .”
“Nonsense,” Spacia said. “We will if we want to and we do.” She gave Tenna’s long frame an intent look and then shook her head. “Well, nothing we have would fit.” Both girls were shorter than Tenna by a full head and, while neither carried much flesh, they were stockier than the eastern girl.
Then both turned to each other in the same instant and snapped their fingers. “Silvina!” they exclaimed in chorus.
“C’mon,” Spacia said, and reached for Tenna’s hand. “You can walk, can’t you?”
“Oh, yes, but …”
“On your feet then, runner,” Rosa said, and took Tenna’s other arm, assisting her to an upright position. “Silvina’s headwoman at the Harper Hall and she always has good things … .”
“But … I …” and then Tenna gave up protesting. It was obvious from the determined expressions on the two runners’ faces that they would brook no argument.
“You’re taking her to Silvina?” Penda asked, sidling out of the kitchen. “Good. I’ve nothing here to fit her and she’s got to look her best when she meets that wretch Haligon.”
“Why?” Tenna suspiciously wanted to know. Why would she need to look her best just to give Haligon what-for?
“Why, to maintain the reputation of Fort Station, o
f course,” Rosa said with an impish grin. “We’ve our pride, you know, and you may be a visitor but you’re here, now,” and she pointed emphatically to the ground, “and must be presentable.”
“Not that you aren’t,” Spacia hastily added, being slightly more tactful than Rosa, “except we want you more so than ever.”
“After all, it is your first Fort Gather …”
“And you nearly finishing your first Cross, too.”
Their chatter was impossible to resist and there was no way Tenna could appear at a Gather in runner gear, which was all she had of her own to wear.
At this evening hour, they found Silvina checking day-records in her office at the Harper Hall and she was more than delighted that she had been approached. She led them down to the storage rooms underneath the Harper Hall.
“We keep quite a few performance dresses in case a soloist wants to wear harper colors. You wouldn’t mind wearing blue, would you?” Silvina said as she paused by the second of a line of locked doors. “Actually, I think blue would be a very good color for you.” She had such a lovely speaking voice that Tenna was listening more to her tone than what she was saying. “And I’ve one that I think might be just the thing for you.”
She opened a large wardrobe and, from the many there, she brought out a long gown with full sleeves and some fine embroidered trim that made all three girls gasp.
“It’s lovely. Oh, I couldn’t wear something this valuable,” Tenna exclaimed, backing away.
“Nonsense,” Silvina said, and gestured for Tenna to slip out of her runner top.
When Tenna carefully slipped on the dress, the softness of the fabric against her skin made her feel … special. She tried a little spin and the long skirt swirled about her ankles while the full sleeves billowed about her arms. It was the most flattering dress she’d worn and she examined it thoroughly, committing the details of its design to her mind so that she could reproduce it the next time she had marks enough for a Gather dress. The one she had at home was nowhere near as splendid as this. Could she, should she dance, in something as elegant as this? What if she spilled something on it?
“I’m not sure …” she began as she faced her companions.
“Not sure!” Rosa was indignant. “Why, that deep blue shows up your lovely skin and your eyes … they are blue, aren’t they, or is it the dress makes them so? And it fits like it was made for you!”
Tenna looked down at the low-cut front of the bodice. Whoever it had been made for had had a lot more breast. She didn’t fill it out properly. Silvina was rummaging through another box.
“Here,” she said, and stuffed two pads in the front, settling them with such a practiced hand that the adjustment was done before Tenna could protest.
“There! That’s much better,” Spacia said, and then giggled. “I have to pad, too. But it’d be worse for us as runners to be heavy, bumping around all the time.”
Tenna tentatively felt her newly improved form but, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she could see that the fit of the top was vastly improved and she looked more … more … well, it fit better. The fabric was so smooth to the touch, it was a pleasure just to feel the dress on her. And this shade of blue …
“This is harper blue,” she said with surprise.
“Of course it is,” Silvina said with a laugh. “Not that it matters. You’ll be wearing runner cords … though right now,” and Silvina’s appreciative grin broadened, “you don’t look runnerish … if you’ll forgive my frankness.”
Tenna couldn’t help admiring how much better her figure looked with that little alteration. She had a slim waist and the dress hugged it before flaring out over hips that she knew to be too bony and best covered.
“The pads won’t … pop out … will they, when I’m dancing?”
“If you’ll take off the dress, I’ll put a few stitches to secure them where they should stay,” Silvina said.
That was done so quickly that Silvina was folding the lovely dress over Tenna’s arm before she realized it.
“Now, shoes?” Spacia asked. “She can’t wear spikes … .”
“She might better wear them,” Rosa said dourly, “with some of those louts who come to a Fort Gather. Haligon’s not the only one who’ll home in on her, looking that way.”
Silvina had cast a measuring glance at Tenna’s long, narrow feet and now took a long box down from one of the many shelves in this huge storeroom.
“Should have something to fit even narrow runner feet … she murmured, and came up with a pair of soft, ankle-high, black suede boots. “Try these.”
They did not fit. But the fourth pair—in dark red—were only slightly too long.
“Wear thick anklets and they’ll fit fine,” Spacia suggested.
And the three girls left, Tenna carefully transporting the dress to the station. Rose and Spacia insisted on sharing the burden of the boots and the underskirt that Silvina had offered to complete the costume.
The last sliver of sticklebush was on the pad the next morning and Beveny added it to the others, handing the evidence packet over to Torlo, who grinned in satisfaction.
“This’ll make Lord Groghe see that we’ve a legitimate complaint,” he said, and nodded emphatically at Tenna. She was about to protest when he added, “But not until after the Gather, for he’s too busy to be approached right now. And he’ll be in a much better mood after a good Gather.” He turned to Tenna. “So you have to stay till after and that’s that.”
“But I could run short distances now, couldn’t I?”
“Mmm,” Torlo said, nodding. “Iffen a run comes up. Don’t like to be idle, do you, girl?” She shook her head. “Wal, Healer, is she fit?”
“Short run and no hills,” Beveny said, “and nowhere Haligon might ride.” He grinned mischievously at her and took his leave.
Just before midday, Torlo called her from the front bench where she’d been watching the Gather stalls being erected.
“Run down to the port for me, will you? A ship just was drummed in and has cargo for the Gather. We’re to get its manifests.” He took her by the arm and showed the route to her on the big map of Fort Hold that displayed local traces and roads. “Straight run … downhill all the way to the port. And not too steep on the way back.”
It was good to be running again and, though the spring weather had turned chilly, she soon worked up enough heat to keep warm. The captain was muchly relieved to deliver the manifests to her. The cargo was being unloaded and he was anxious to get it up the road to the Hold in time for the Gather. He was equally anxious to receive payment for the deliveries, and she could promise she’d have the manifests in the designated hands before dinnertime.
He also had a pouch of letters from the eastern seacoast on board which were addressed to Fort Hold. So she carried a full belt back. Her legs felt the slight incline but she didn’t decrease her pace despite a slight soreness in the right leg at the shin.
Well, a warm bath in one of those incredible tubs would take care of that. And the Gather was tomorrow.
Fort Station was full that night, with runners coming from other stations for the Gather the next day. Tenna bunked in with Rosa and Spacia and a southern runner, Delfie, took the fourth bed in their room. It was a front room with a window, and you heard the traffic on the road, but Tenna was tired enough to sleep through anything.
“Which is as well because the comings and goings up the main track kept up all night long,” Rosa said with cheerful disgust. “Let’s eat outside. It’s so crowded in here.” So they all sat on the front benches to eat.
Spacia gave Tenna a conspiratorial wink as Tenna followed the others outside. There had been a few spare seats but not all together. It would be nicer to eat outside instead of the packed tables. Penda and her drudges had their hands full pouring klah and distributing bread, cheese, and porridge.
Actually, it was much more interesting to sit outside to eat. There was so much going on. Gather wagons kept arriving from
both directions and rolled onto the field set aside for their use. Stalls which had been bare boards and uprights last night were being decorated with Hall colors and craft insignia. And more stalls were being erected on the wide court in front of the Hold. The long tongue and groove boards for the dancing surface were being slotted into place in the center and the harpers’ platform erected. Tenna wanted to hug herself with delight at all the activity. She’d never actually seen a Gather gathering before … especially in such a big Hold as Fort. Since she had run yesterday, she felt a little better about not having made a push to finish her first Cross. And she had the chance to see the dragonriders pop into the air above Fort Hold.
“Oh, they are so beautiful,” she said, noticing that Rosa and Spacia were also watching the graceful creatures landing, and the elegantly clad dragonriders dismounting.
“Yes, they are,” Rosa said in an odd tone. “I just wish they wouldn’t keep going on about Thread coming back.” She shuddered.
“You don’t think it will?” Tenna said, for she had recently had several runs into the Benden Station and knew that Weyrfolk were certain that Thread would return. Hadn’t the Red Star been seen in the Eye Rock at the winter solstice?
Rosa shrugged. “It can for all of me but it’s going to interfere with running something fierce.”
“I noticed that the Benden Thread halts are all repaired,” Tenna said.
Spacia shrugged. “We’d be fools to take any chances, wouldn’t we?” Then she grimaced. “I’d really hate to be stuck in one of those boxes with Thread falling all around me. Why, the wardrobe in Silvina’s storeroom is larger. What if it got in a crack, Thread got in, and I couldn’t get out?” She pantomimed terror and revulsion.
“It’ll never come to that,” Rosa said confidently.
“Lord Groghe certainly got rid of all the greenery around the Hold,” Spacia remarked, gesturing around.
Legends: Stories By The Masters of Modern Fantasy Page 60