Nerilka's Story

Chapter VI

Dampen found me the next morning preparing to make more soup. "So this is where you are! Anella is looking for you."

"She's been looking for a Lady Nalka, and there is no one by that name in the Hold."

Campen snorted with disgust. "You know perfectly well she means you."

"Then she should summon me by name. I'll not go otherwise."

"In the meantime, she's making life very difficult for our sisters, and they miss our mother enough without having to put up with her carping."

I was instantly repentant. In my own misery and guilt, I had forgotten that Lilla and Nia needed my presence and support.

"She must have new gowns, suitable to her position. Your needlework is the best."

"Kista was the best needlewoman among us," I told him angrily. "And Merin sewed the straightest seam. But I'll go."

It was not a pleasant interview, and I knew that my behavior could be faulted on several counts.

To add insult to injury, Anella was younger than I by several Turns, and keenly aware of that and of my greater height. But, knowing that I had deliberately disregarded her summonses, I took the tongue-lashing in silence, and took some consolation in the fact that she had to crane her neck at an awkward angle to berate me. She looked like a wherry hen, strutting about in a heavy dressing gown far too ornate to suit her thin body and falling off her bottle-necked shoulders so that she had to jerk it frequently back into place. She lacked dignity, experience, sense, and humor.

"So how do you account for your absence these past two days? Where have you been? For if you've been sneaking off to meet some holder-"

At that accusation I decided I had had enough of her ranting. "I have been preparing restorative soups and cough syrups, and checking our medicinal supplies in case they should be needed." She flushed at my reminder of the present crisis. "The pharmacy has been my responsibility in this Hold."

"Why wasn't I told that was where you were? Your father-" She abruptly closed her lips.

"My father would not have known my especial duties. It was my mother's place to order such domestic affairs."

She gave me a searching glance, but I had kept my voice bland and chosen my words carefully.

"No one around here tells me anything I need to know," she complained. "If your name is not Nalka, what is it?"

"Nerilka."

"Close enough. Why did you not come at my bidding?" She grew angry again.

"I was not told."

"But they knew you were the one I wanted to see!"

"The entire Hold is still distracted by grief and anxiety."

She clamped her lips into a thin line, but what she wished to say was sparking out of her eyes, which were beginning once again to protrude with her attempts to control her agitations. She swished off to the window and stood looking out, twitching the gown back up her shoulders several times. Abruptly she whirled back.

"Your mother had everything so well organized in this Hold that I'm sure she had drapery stores and patterns. You may come with me to choose suitable lengths for my new wardrobe."

"Aunt Sira is in charge of Weaving."

"I don't need the Weaving Aunt. I need your sewing skills. You have those as well, do you not?" When I nodded, she went on. "Now where are the keys?" I pointed to the small chest on top of the press. With a cry of exasperation she leaped toward it, wrenching the drawer out in her haste to secure the keys to her new dignities. She had to hold the massive ring in both hands. "But which one? And which unlocks the jewelry safe?

And the spice closet?"

"The stories are color-coded. The housekeeping keys are the smaller ones, room keys the larger. Hall keys larger still, and gold. All kitchen stores are green."

So I was forced to spend the rest of the morning taking my stepmother from story to story and as far down the sublevels as she insisted we go. I answered every question willingly and fully, but volunteered no information without seeming to withhold any. Afterward, I don't know if I was more disgusted with myself or with her general ignorance of Hold management. Had her mother not required her to do anything, and she the only daughter in the hold? I only hoped that my father would rue the day he let his infatuation overwhelm common sense. And the inconsistency of his complaint against my one suitor, Garben, who came from, no more or less, the same sort of family as Anella's. I also knew suddenly, and with complete certainty, that I would not be in Fort Hold to see his awakening to reality.

Anella required my presence to cut and start seaming several gowns for herself. She had some sense in her, for she said that Lilla and Nia could have tunics from the remnants of the three lengths. That ensured their cooperation and diligence on her clothes. I excused myself as soon as the work was well started, on the pretext that I must discharge my duties as pharmacist.

And so, in the Harper Hall, I learned for the first time of the blood serum injections that had been administered just the day before, and I heard, in a somewhat garbled fashion, of Master Captain's recollection of this ancient method of giving a small dose of a disease to prevent a more disastrous illness. Healers had been given the first injections, as they would most need protection against the plague. Master Fortine had succumbed to it, received the treatment, and was suffering only minor discomfort. Soon, very soon, there would be enough of this liquid miracle to prevent any more healthy people from suffering the rigors of the plague. Pern was saved!

I took leave to doubt that enthusiastic report, but certainly the whole atmosphere of the Hall was charged with hope and relief. I immediately returned to the Hold, reprieved from the despair of more deaths among my loved ones. I rushed up to the sewing room to tell my sisters the good news. Anella was there, of course, supervising their stitches. She questioned me closely, making me repeat my news several times before she rushed off. Maybe she actually cared more for my father's health than for his Hold.

How it came to be, I do not know, but by evening, three healers arrived at the Hold and were shown immediately up to my father's quarters. I assume they inoculated him first. I'm certain that Anella was second, and then her babes. To my complete surprise, the immediate family was also injected, my younger sisters enduring the prick of the needle without a whimper.

"There's enough left for fifteen more. Lady Nerilka. Whom would you suggest?" the healer journeyman asked me. "Desdra said you'd know." He had spoken quietly to me as I received the injection.

I told him to do all the Nursery adults, our three harpers, Felim and his chief assistant, Uncle Munchaun, and Sira, for she alone knew all the brocade patterns that were our especial Hold pride. And the chief bailiff, Bamdy, and his son. With my father still immured in his rooms, Bamdy was a key person and his son only slightly less so. Munchaun would take their part if that became necessary, and he was the only one who could shout Tolocamp down without reprisal.

I was required to spend most of the morning sewing in Anella's presence while she stood over my sisters and me, criticizing our stitches, making us pick out and do over-as often as not missing our poorer work-until I could stand it no more. Lilla, Nia, and Mara were more inclined to diligence, since they could anticipate, I hoped to have new tunics for their labors.

Anella also had the poor taste to recount to us Tolocamp's injunctions to his bailiff and my brothers that there was to be no disposition of Fort Hold's stores to the indigent. All must be reserved for the needs of Fort Hold's dependents. This was a critical time, and Fort must stand firm, as an example to the rest of the continent. For instance, Anella relished reporting, Tolocamp was certain that the Healer and Harper would be applying to the Hold for substantial aid of food and medicine. He had received a formal request for an interview with Master Capiam and Master Tirone the next morning.

That, for me, was the final straw. I had now come to the end of patience, courtesy, and filial loyalty. I could no longer endure that woman's presence or remain a dependent of a man whose cowardice and parsimony made a disgrace of my Bloodline. I would no longer remain in a dishonored Hold.

On the grounds that I had a confectionary recipe that I wished to prepare for the evening meal, I excused myself. I went down to the kitchens, and on to the dispensary. There I distilled fellis in the largest kettle and brewed an equally large batch of the tussilago syrup. While these were simmering, I rifled the overstuffed shelves, taking a generous portion of every herb, root, stalk, leaf, blossom, and tuber that might possibly be of use to the Healer Hall. These I packaged, tying them securely and leaving them in a shadowy comer of the inner storeroom against the unlikely chance that Anella might inspect the facility. I decanted the fellis and tussilago into padded demijohns and added to these surreptitious stores a pack containing clothing necessities for myself.

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.

"How did you…?" Tirone began, leaning forward to peer at my face. He didn't know who I was any more than Capiam did, but they knew I was one of the Fort Horde.

"Lord Tolocamp made plain his position when he received the request for medicines. I helped harvest and preserve them."

"Lady…?" Capiam waited for me to speak my name, but his voice was kind and his manner gentle.

"Nerilka," I said quickly, for I didn't expect so exalted a man to have known it. "I have the right to offer you the products of my own labor." Tirone was realizing that I had eavesdropped on their conversation, but I hardly cared. "There is just one condition." I let the keys swing from my fingers.

"If it is within my giving," Capiam replied tactfully.

"That I may leave this Hold in your company and work with the sick in that horrid camp. I've been vaccinated. Lord Tolocamp was expansive that day. Be that as it may, I will not stay in a Hold to be abused by a girl younger than myself. Tolocamp permitted her and her family to enter this hallowed Hold from the fire-heights yet he leaves healers and harpers to die out there!" I nearly added, "as he left my mother and sisters to die at Ruatha." Instead I pulled at Capiam's sleeve. "This way, quickly."

Tolocamp would recover from his shock at their ultimatum and start roaring for Bamdy or one of my brothers.

"I'll remove our Craftspeople from this Hold on my way out," Tirone said. He turned and walked the other way.

"Young woman, you do realize that once you leave the Hold without your father's knowledge, particularly in his present frame of mind-"

"Master Capiam, I doubt he'll notice I'm gone." Maybe he was the one who had told Anella that my name was Nalka. "These steps are very steep," I warned, suddenly remembering that the Masterhealer wasn't used to the back ways. I flicked on a handglow.

Capiam stumbled once or twice as we spiraled down, and I heard him draw a sigh of relief as we turned into the larger corridor toward the storerooms. Sim was lounging on the bench with the other two.

"You are prompt, I see." I nodded reassurance at Sim, who hadn't expected to see the Masterhealer down here. "Father appreciates promptness." I included Master Capiam in that remark as I opened the door.

I went in first, flicking open the glowbaskets, and heard Capiam exclaim now that he recognized the room where he and my mother had often treated the Hold sick. I went into the main storeroom.

"Behold, Master Capiam, the produce of my labors since I was old enough to snip leaf and blossom or dig root and bulb. I won't say I have filled every shelf, but my sisters who have predeceased me would not deny me their portions. Would that all of these hoarded supplies were usable, but even herbs and roots lose their potency in time. Waste, that's the bulk of what you see, fattening tunnel snakes." I had heard the slither as the reptiles fled from the glowlights. "Carry-yokes are in the comer there, Sim." I raised my voice now, for my other remarks had been for the Masterhealer's ears so that he knew that what I gave him today did not seriously deplete those treasured stores Tolocamp must reserve for his own people. "You and the others, take up the bales." When I saw them start to load up, I turned to Master Capiam. "Master Capiam, if you do not mind-that's the feis juice. I'll take this." I hefted the other demijohn by its girth strap and slung the pack over my shoulder. "I mixed fresh tussilago last night, Master Capiam. That's right, Sim. On your way now. We'll use the kitchen exit. Lord Tolocamp has been complaining again about the wear on the main hall carpets," I said quite mendaciously. "It's as well to comply with his instructions even if it does mean extra lengths for the rest of us."

I covered the glowbaskets and set down the demijohn to lock the storeroom, ignoring Capiam's expression. It didn't matter what he thought as long as I could leave the Hold without being seen.

"I would like to take more, but four drudges added to the noon parade to the perimeter are not going to be noticed by the guard." He spared a look at my clothing then. "No one will care in the least if one of the drudges continues on to the camp. Nor will anyone at the kitchen exit think it odd for the Masterhealer to leave with supplies." I had accustomed them to such traffic to the Hall. "Indeed, they would wonder if you left empty-handed."

I had finished locking up and now I dangled the keys before me. I couldn't just hang them on the door. "One never knows, does one?" I commented, stuffing them back into my belt pouch. "My stepmother has another set. She thinks it is the only one. But my mother thought the stillroom a very good occupation for me. This way, Master Capiam."

He followed me and I kept expecting any moment to hear an exhortation or good advice.

"Lady Nerilka, if you leave now-"

"I am leaving-"

"-and in this fashion, Lord Tolocamp-"

I stopped in my tracks and faced the man. It wouldn't do to be heard arguing with him as we crossed the kitchen. "-will miss neither me nor my dower." As I hefted the demijohn, I saw Sim exiting by the side door, and thought I had best be at his heels or he might falter. "I can be of real use in the internment camp for I know about mixing medicines and decocting and infusing herbs.

I shall be doing something constructive that is needed rather than sitting comfortably in a comer somewhere." I did not add sewing straight seams to adorn my stepmother. "I know your craftsmen are overworked. Every hand is needed.

"Besides"-I touched the keys in my pouch- "I can slip back in whenever it's necessary. Don't look surprised. The drudges do it all the time. Why shouldn't I?" Especially when I am dressed as a drudge, I noted wryly.

I had to catch up to Sim and the others to maintain our cover; I also had to remember to move like a drudge. As I passed under the lintel of the kitchen door, I slumped my shoulders, lowered my head, canted my knees at each other for a more awkward gait, and pretended to be weighed down by my burdens, scuffing my feet in the dust.

Master Capiam was looking to our left, to the main forecourt and stairs where Master Tirone was moving down the ramp along with the healers who tended our elderly, and the three harpers.

"He'll be watching them! Not us," I told Master Capiam, for I, too, had caught sight of my father's figure in the open window. Maybe he'd catch his death of a cold. "Try to walk less proudly. Master

Capiam. You are, for die moment, merely a drudge, burdened and reluctantly heading for the perimeter, terrified of coming down sick to die like everyone in the camp."

"Everyone in the camp is not dying." "Of course not," I said hastily, hearing the anger in his voice. "But Lord Tolocamp thinks so. He has so informed us constantly. Ah, a belated attempt on his part to prevent the exodus!" I caught sight of the helmet tips over the balustrade. "Don't pause!" The Masterhealer had stopped briefly, and I didn't want anything to call attention to us. The departure of healers and harpers was a useful diversion. "You can walk as slowly as you want, that's in character, but don't stop."

I kept my head turned to the left, but then drudges were always attempting to ignore what they were supposed to be doing in favor of any activity that appeared more interesting. Seeing guards chasing after healers and harpers was very interesting. Especially guards who did not wish to follow their particular orders. I could just imagine Bamdy's consternation. "Arrest the Masterharper. Lord Tolocamp? Now how could I do such a thing? The healers, too? Are they not needed more in their own Hall right now than here?"

There was a brief scuffle as Tirone barged through the halfhearted attempt to thwart him. I suppose words were exchanged between the guards and the others, but no one truly interfered with those departing, and Master Tirone led them all down onto the road at a good pace.

Our path had already taken us across the roadway, and their steps would cover our footprints in the dust. I continued my awkward pace and wondered if my father even noticed the passing of the drudges. Sim and the other two had reached the perimeter, and Theng was looking with some disgust at their burdens. He had come hastily out of his little hut, but then he identified the basket holding the noon meal of the guard contingent and relaxed.

I began to worry about Master Capiam immured in the camp when he really ought to remain in his Hall, no matter what he had said to Master Tirone.

"If you go past the perimeter. Master Capiam, you will not be permitted back."

"If there is more than one way into the Hold, is there only one past the perimeter?" he asked me flippantly. "I'll see you later, Lady Nerilka."

I was relieved to think he was right. I was close enough to the dip in the roadway to see the encampment, and the men and women, well back of the guarded zone, waiting patiently for the food.

"Here now. Master Capiam." Theng came up, alarmed to see the resolution in the Masterhealer's stride. "You can't go in there without staying-"

"I don't want this medicine heaved about, Theng. Make sure they understand it's fragile."

I turned to one side, pretending to ease the weight of the demijohn. Theng knew me well enough to raise a commotion if he recognized me.

"I can do that much for you," Theng replied. He placed the demijohn to one side of the bales, then yelled down to the waiting men and women. "This is to be handled carefully, and preferably by a healer. Master Capiam says it's medicine."

I wanted to tell Capiam that I would see that the medicine was given to the appropriate people, but I dared not get too close to Theng, who was now making sure that Master Capiam went back where he belonged. I took the opportunity and walked quickly down the slope to the waiting people.

"Nah, then. Master Capiam," Theng was saying as I made good my escape, "you know I can't allow you close contact with any of your craftsmen."

I was immensely relieved that Theng intervened at that point. It was presumptuous of me, perhaps, but I felt that Master Capiam ought to remain where he was accessible to drum messages and councils with other Masters, particularly when he and the Masterharper had just pulled their Craftsmen from Fort Hold. As devoted a Craftsman as he was, it was not right that Master Capiam put himself at risk in this wretched camp. Perhaps now that the vaccine was being processed, the internment camp would be dispersed in only a matter of days. It would be along time, however, before Hold, Hall, and Weyr could pick up the skein of routine and unravel the tangle in which the plague had left us.

I had a very selfish reason for being glad that Master Capiam had elected to stay above. I wished to change my identity as well as my Hold. One or two harpers or healers might recognize me from their attendance at the Hold, but they wouldn't be looking for Lady Nerilka here in the internment camp, surrounded by infection and vulnerable to discomfort as well as death.

Although she had not said so, Desdra undoubtedly had refused my loners of assistance because she knew that young ladies of Hold Blood did not engage in such activities on a public basis. She probably considered me a feckless, trivial person and perhaps I was: Some of my recent thoughts and decisions could have been considered petty. But I did not consider that I was sacrificing my high rank and position. I thought, rather, that I was putting myself in the way of being useful, instead of immured in a Hold, protected and unproductive, wasting my energy on trivia like sewing for my stepmother. Such a "suitable occupation" for a girl of my rank could so easily be undertaken by the least drudge from the linen rooms.

These thoughts fleeted through my head as I kept up the awkward gait I had assumed-ironic, as Hold girls were taught to take such tiny steps that they appeared to float across the floor. I had never quite mastered that skill. I followed the men and women who had brought the baskets to the perimeter. Now I could see that most of them wore harper knots. One man wore the colors of the River Hold, and another of the Sea Hold. Travelers trapped on their way to seek help from Tolocamp? The path turned off into the copse, where I could now see that rude shelters had been erected. We had been indeed fortunate that the weather had been so clement, for the third month was generally blustery, often blizzardy, and freezing cold. Each open fire in its ring of stones wore either spit or kettle iron. Was this where my restorative soups had gone? Then I realized that those huddled in blankets or hides about each fire had the gray complexions and lackluster expressions of convalescents.

One larger shelter, its sides made of an odd assortment of materials, was set to one edge of the copse, and from it issued a chorus of rasping coughs and groans that labeled it the main infirmary. It was toward this that the demijohn of fellis was being taken. Those carrying the baskets of food were beginning to distribute bread to those at the fires. Three women began to sort the vegetables and meat scraps into kettles. The silence was the worst of the scene.

I hastened to the infirmary and was met at the door by a tall, unshaven healer. "Fellis, herbs-what have you?" he asked eagerly.

"Tussilago. Lady Nerilka made it fresh last night."

He grimaced and took the demijohn from me. "It's heartening to know not everyone there agrees with the Lord Holder."

"He's a hypocritical coward."

The healer raised eyebrows in surprise. "Young woman, it is unwise to speak of your Lord Holder in that fashion, no matter what the provocation."

"He is not my Lord Holder," I replied, meeting his stare unflinchingly. "I have come to help. I have a firm grounding of the properties of herbs and their preparation. I… helped Lady Nerilka brew the tussilago. She taught me all I know, she and her lady mother now dead at Ruatha. I can nurse and I am not afraid of the plague. All I loved is dead now anyway."

He put a comforting hand on my shoulder. No one would dare such a familiarity toward the Lady Nerilka, yet I did not find it offensive to be handled. It proved I was a human being.

"You are not alone in that." He paused for me to fill in my name. "All right. Rill, I'll take any volunteers right now. My best nurse just succumbed…" He nodded to a woman, still and white on a pallet of boughs. "There isn't all that much we can do except relieve the symptoms-" he affectionately patted the container of tussilago "-and hope there are no secondary infections. It is that which causes death, not the plague itself."

"There will soon be enough vaccine." I said it to cheer him, for patently he did not like to be so helpless in the face of this epidemic.

"Where did you hear that, Rill?" He had lowered his voice, and now held my upper arm in a painful grip. All handling is not reassuring.

"It is known. Yesterday the Bloods were inoculated against the disease. More of the serum is being made. You are nearby…"

The man shrugged in bitter acceptance of his situation. "Nearby, but scarcely a priority."

The woman struggled in the grip of the fever and flung herself out of her coverings. I went immediately to her side. And that began my first twenty-hour day as a nurse. There were three of us and Macabir, the journeyman healer, to tend the sixty stricken people in that rude infirmary. I never did know how many more the camp held, for the population shifted. Some had arrived on foot as well as by runner, hoping to claim Hold at Fort or assistance from the Halls or the Hold, and left when they realized that they were not permitted to reach their objective. I often wondered how many people actually had obeyed the full quarantine. But we are more populous here in the west than the eastern half of the continent. And the territory under Fort's jurisdiction suffered nowhere near the casualties that Ruatha did. We heard that only Master Capiam's early attendance at South Boll kept the disease from ravaging that province as well there were those who said that Ratoshigan would have deserved the fate that was dropped on Ruatha and young Lord Alessan.

He was still alive, I learned. But he and his youngest sister were the only survivors of that Bloodline. His losses were more grievous than mine, then. Would his gains be as great?

Though harried, anxious, overworked, underfed, and certainly sleep-deprived, I had never been so happy. Happy? That is a very odd word to use in conjunction with my occupation in the camp, for that day and the next, we lost twelve of the sixty lying in the tent, and acquired fifteen in their places. But I was being useful for the first time in my life, and needed, and I was the amazed recipient of the mute gratitude of those I tended. For someone raised as I had been, the experience was a revelation in some rather personal and unpleasant ways as well, for I had never coped with the intimate bodily functions of either man or woman, and now had to attend both. I suppressed my initial revulsion and nausea, cropped my hair even shorter, rolled up my sleeves, and got on with the job. If this was part of it, then it would not be shirked.

I had the added assurance of knowing I was buffered against catching the disease that I nursed, so sometimes Macabir's praise of my courage on this count embarrassed me. Then a journeyman healer walked boldly into the camp bearing sufficient serum to inoculate everyone, and announced that the camp was being struck. The sick would be transported to the Harper Hall, where the apprentice barracks were being cleared to accommodate them. The transients also would find overnight shelter before being sped on their way in the morning. And if they'd be good enough to take along some supplies…

I volunteered, although Macabir repeated his wish for me to take formal training at the Hall. "You've a natural gift for the profession, Rill."

"I'm far too old to be an apprentice, Macabir."

"How old is old when you've a right knack with the sick? A Turn and you've done the initial training. Three, and there wouldn't be a healer who'd not be pleased to have you assist him."

"I'm free now to see more of this continent than one Hold, Macabir."

He sighed, scrubbing at his lined and weary face. "Well, keep it in mind if you find travel palls."