Then I made the sticky sweet for the evening meal, enough to surfeit Anella and her parents.
That evening I sought out Uncle Munchaun and gave him my mother's jewels to distribute to my sisters.
"Like that, eh?" He hefted the hide-wrapped packet of jewelry. "Did you not keep some by you?"
"A few pieces. I doubt jewelry will be required where I intend to go from here."
"Send me word when you can. Rill. I shall miss you."
"And I you, Uncle. You'll keep watch over my sisters?"
"Have I not always done so?"
"Better than most." I could not say more or weaken my resolution, so I fled down the steps from the second story.
The next day, I had dutifully started yet another kettle of restorative soup in the small kitchen when I saw the Masterharper and the Masterhealer making their way across the Great Court for their interview with Tolocamp. I caught Sim's attention and told him to take two others and wait for me outside the dispensary. I had a task to be done.
I changed from my dress into garb suitable for what I hoped to be allowed to do, and stuffed a few last personal things in my belt pouch. I caught a glimpse of myself in the little mirror on my wall. It took me a moment: my hair had been my one vanity. I picked up the scissors and ruthlessly, before my resolution faltered, I cut off my long braids and stuffed them into the darkest corner of the press. No one would think to search my room for some time to come. My shorn hair suited my new role in life.
With a leather thong, I tied back what was left of my thick black hair. Then I left the room that had been my refuge since my eighteenth summer and made my way down the spiral stairs to my father's first-story apartment.
There was a convenient alcove on the inner wall just beyond the main door to his quarters. I had no sooner taken up my position when the drums announced the happy tidings that Orlith had laid a fine clutch of twenty-five eggs, including a queen egg. I'll bet there was considerable jubilation at Fort Weyr on that score. And it was certainly heartening news, though suddenly I could hear my father's mournful tones. Was he displeased with twenty-five and a queen? In ordinary times he would have called for wine to celebrate.
There was no one in the Hall, and at this hour in the morning most would be about their duties in or outside the Hold. I stepped close to the door and. by putting my ear to the wood, was able to hear most of what was said. Both Capiam and Tirone had good strong voices, and as they became more annoyed, their voices rose. It was my father who mumbled.
"Twenty-five with a queen egg is a superb clutch this late in a Pass," Capiam was saying. "Moreta… mumble… Kadith… Sh'gall… so ill."
"That is not our business," I heard Master Tirone remark. "Not that the illness of the rider has any effect on the performance of the dragon. Anyway, Sh'gall is flying Fall at Nerat, so he's evidently fully recovered."
I had known that both Fort Weyrleaders had been ill and had recovered, for Jallora had been hastily dispatched from the Healer Hall when the Weyr healer had died. Why Sh'gall was flying at Nerat was beyond my source of information.
"I wish they would inform us of the status of each Weyr," my father said. "I worry so."
"The Weyrs"- Tirone spoke with emphasis - "have been discharging their traditional duties to their Holds!"
"Did I bring the illness to the Weyrs?" my father demanded, more loudly and quite petulantly, I thought. "Or the Holds? If the dragonriders were not too quick to fly here and there-"
"And Lords Holder not so eager to fill every nook and cranny of their-" Capiam was angry, too.
"This is not the time for recriminations!" Tirone interrupted them quickly. "You know as well as, if not better than, most people, Tolocamp, that seamen introduced that abomination onto the continent!" The Masterharper's voice dripped with disapproval. I hoped my father was fully aware of it. "Let us resume the discussion interrupted by such good news. I have men seriously ill in that camp of yours. There is not enough vaccine to mitigate the disease, but they could at least have the benefit of decent quarters and practical nursing."
So I had been correct in my assumption that my father's parsimonious attitude extended to the two Halls that Fort had traditionally supplied generously whenever approached.
"Healers are among them," my father countered in a sullen tone. "Or so you tell me!"
"Healers are not immune to the viral influence and they cannot work without medicines," Capiam said urgently. "You have a great storehouse of medicinal supplies-"
"Garnered and prepared by my lost Lady-" How dare he speak in that maudlin fashion of my mother!
"Lord Tolocamp," and I could hear the irritation in Master Capiam's voice, "we need those supplies-"
"For Ruatha, eh?"
Surely my father didn't blame Ruatha for the tragedy?
"Other holds besides Ruatha have needs!" Capiam replied, as if Ruatha was indeed the very last one on his list.
"Supplies are the responsibility of the individual holder. Not mine. I cannot further deplete resources that might be needed by my own people."
"If the Weyrs," and Tirone's deep voice rang with feeling as he took up the argument, "stricken as they are, can extend their responsibilities in the magnificent way they have, beyond the areas beholden to them, then how can you refuse?"
I was stunned at my father's insensitive reply. "Very easily. By saying no. No one may pass the perimeter into the Hold from any outlying area. If they don't have the plague, they have other, equally infectious, diseases. I shall not risk more of my people. I shall make no further contributions from my stores."
Had my father not heard a single one of the messages, announcing the thousands of deaths in Keroon, Ista, Igen, Telgar, and Ruatha? My mother and four sisters were dead and quite likely the guards and the servants who had accompanied them, but they numbered only forty in all, not four hundred or four thousand or forty thousand.
"Then I withdraw my healers from your Hold." I nearly cheered Capiam's statement.
"But-but-you can't do that!"
"Indeed he can. We can," Master Tirone replied. I heard the scrape of his chair as he pushed it back from the table. I clapped my hands over my mouth lest I make any sound. "Craftsmen are under the jurisdiction of their Hall. You'd forgotten that, hadn't you?"
I had just enough time to get back into the shadows as the door was pulled roughly open and Capiam swung into the hall. The light from my father's windows showed me the anger on the Masterhealer's face. Master Tirone slammed the door shut.
"I'll call them out! Then I'll join you in the camp."
"I didn't think it would come to this!" Capiam was grim.
I inhaled, afraid for one moment that they might renege-this opposition was just what Tolocamp needed to bring him back to his lost senses.
"Tolocamp has presumed once too often on the generosity of the Halls! I hope this example reminds others of our prerogatives."
"Call our Craftspeople out, but don't come to the camp with me, Tirone. You must stay in the hall with your people, and guide mine!"
"My people"-Tirone gave a harsh laugh- "with very few exceptions, are languishing in that blighted camp of his. You are the one who must bide at the halls."
I knew then where I would go when I left this Hold, and I knew what I could do to expiate my father's intransigence.
"Master Capiam-" I stepped forward. "I have the storeroom keys." I held up the duplicates my mother had given me on my sixteenth birthday.