Chapter II
Heartbreakingly enough, the new Ruathan tragedy began at precisely the same hour in which I had learned of Suriana's death, as the Harper Hall's drum tower vibrated with Capiam's quarantine command. I was measuring spices for the kitchen warder, and only the sternest control kept my hand from trembling and spilling the expensive spice. Exerting the same control, for the warder did not understand drum code and I wished an edible dinner that night, I finished measuring his requirements, carefully closed the jar, placed it exactly in its habitual spot, and locked the cabinet.
The drum message was being repeated for emphasis by the time I had reached the upper level of the Hold proper, but the second message differed in no particular from the first. I could hear Campen bellowing for explanations from his office as I left the Hold.
Fortunately, so many other people were racing toward the Harper Hall that my indecorous haste went unnoticed. The courtyard of the Hall was filled with anxious apprentices and journeymen, harper and healer. There has always been excellent discipline in the two Crafts, so there was no panic, though some anxiety was evident and many questions circulated.
Yes, there had been calls for Master Capiam from more than just Keroon Beasthold and Igen Sea Hold. Telgar had asked for his presence and counsel; it was rumored he had been taken dragonback to Ista Gather and from there to South Boll at Lord Ratoshigan's express orders, conveyed by no less than Sh'gall, the Fort Weyrleader, on bronze Kadith.
The moment Master Fortine, accompanied by Joumeywoman Desdra of the Healer Hall and Masters Brace and Dunegrine of the Harper Hall, appeared on the broad stairs, all fell silent.
"You are naturally anxious about the drum message," Master Fortine began, clearing his throat ostentatiously. He is a good theoretical healer, but has none of the ease that marks the Masterhealer Capiam. Master Fortine raised his voice to an unnecessarily loud, high pitch. "You must realize that Master Capiam would not invoke such emergency procedures without due cause. Would all harpers or healers who attended either gather present themselves immediately to Joumeywoman Desdra in the Small Hall I will address all healers immediately in the Main Hall, if you would be so kind as to assemble there. Master Brace…"
Master Brace stepped forward, adjusting his belt and clearing his own throat. "Master Tirone is from the Hall mediating that dispute in the mines. In accordance with custom, as Senior Master, I assume his authority in this crisis until he has returned to the Hall."
"Hoping that Master Tirone is either caught in the quarantine or dies of the disease…" I heard someone mutter nearby. He was immediately shushed by his neighbors, so there would have been no point in my turning to catch out the dissident even if the matter had concerned me more acutely.
Before acceding to the rank of Masterharper, Tirone had once been the tutor to Lord Tolocamp's children, so I knew the man well. He had his faults, but to listen to his rich mellow voice had always been a pleasure no matter what message his words were trying to implant in dull or uninterested minds. A man was never voted to be Master of his Crafthall unless he had more than a glorious baritone voice to recommend him to his fellow Masters. I have heard it said by the disaffected that the only time Tirone has lost a mediation was when he had laryngitis; otherwise, he talked his opponents into surrendering to his decisions.
Naturally the diplomatic Masterharper would take great pains not to offend the Fort Lord Holder despite Craft autonomy, so I had never witnessed that sort of pertinacity in Master Tirone.
What struck me as odd in this moment was that Master Brace should make such an announcement at all, and that Desdra and Fortine represented the healers. Where was Master Capiam? It was totally unlike him to delegate an invidious task. As harpers and healers began to file into the two assembly points, I slipped away from the Hall, not much wiser and with much to worry about.
My lady mother, my four sisters, and my father were now immured at Ruatha. Unworthily, I thought that was another reason why they ought to have taken me. My demise would have been no loss. And I could have been of considerable use as a nurse, really my only talent and mainly unused outside the family. I remonstrated with myself for such reflections and purposefully turned my steps to the lower level of the Hold, where the storerooms were situated.
If this disease had required quarantine, I could occupy myself profitably by checking over supplies. While the Healer Hall had viable stocks of most herbs and medicines, most Holds and Halls were expected to supply their own needs according to their individual requirements. But this situation might require uncommon herbal remedies not normally laid by in sufficient quantity. Campen spotted me, however, and came charging over, huffing as he did when agitated.
"Bill, what's abroad? Did I hear quarantine? Does that mean Father is stuck at Ruatha? What do we do now?" He recalled that if he was acting Lord Holder, he ought not to be requesting advice from any lesser entities, especially his sister. He cleared his throat noisily and poked his chest forward, assuming a stem expression that I found ludicrous. "Have we sufficient fresh herbs for our people?"
"Indeed we do."
"Don't be flippant. Rill. Not at a time like this." He frowned ponderously at me.
"I'm on my way to assess the situation, brother, but I can say without fear of contradiction that our supplies will prove more than adequate for the present emergency."
"Very good, but be sure to give me a written report of supplies on hand." He patted my shoulder as he would his favorite canine and bustled off, huffing as he went. To my jaundiced eye, he appeared unsure as to what he should be doing in this catastrophe.
Sometimes I am appalled at the waste in our storerooms. In spring, summer, and autumn, we gather, preserve, salt, dry, pickle, and store more food than ever Fort Hold could need. Each Turn, despite Mother's conscientious efforts, the oldest is not used first, and gradually the backlog grows.
The tunnel snakes and insects take care of that in the darker recesses of the supply caves. We girls often make judicious withdrawals to be smuggled out to needy families, as neither Father nor Mother condone charity, even when the harvests have failed through no fault of the holder. Father and Mother are always saying that it is their ancient duty to supply the entire Hold in time of crisis, but somehow they have never denned "crisis." And we keep increasing the unused and unusable stores.
Of course herbs, properly dried and stored, keep their efficacy for many Turns. The shelves of neat bags and bound stalks, the jars of seeds and salves bulged. Sweat root, featherfem, and all the febrifuges that had been traditional remedies since Records began. Comfrey, aconite, thymuhissop, ezob: I touched each in turn, knowing we had it in such quantities that Fort Hold could treat every one of the nearly ten thousand inhabitants if necessary. Fellis had been a bumper crop this Turn. Had the land known its future needs? Aconite, too, was in generous supply.