A New Start Confirmed

[stargayzer]

Caltrain was exhausted, but it was an exhaustion borne on hard work and satisfaction. The wherry pen was finished, in a mere two days' time, and he had managed to snare several large buck wherries and a good portion of their hen-flocks. Despite the presence of dragons, each morning the young beastmaster had managed to bring in several additions, for the hens would stay as near their flock leaders as the walls of the Weyr would allow, and easily stumbled into the snares. He had set up a nesting area on one end, by upending boxes and piling them with hay, in the hopes that the wild things would breed in captivity.

Of course that would mean that the hungry dragons would have to tire of the novelty, for right now they were eating them as fast as Caltrain could drag them in. Once the hooved beasts started dropping young ... he thought he could already see them putting on flesh ... and there was more desirable red meat to be had, though, things would even out.

On the third morning at the Weyr, Caltrain rose early, feeling edgy without knowing why. He wandered through the kitchens an hour before dawn and thanked the cooks as he poured himself a large mug of klah and grabbed a sweetroll, hot out of the oven. The cool morning air felt damp on his skin as he wandered toward the pens. He was barely halfway there when the pain-filled lowing reached his ears.

He picked up his pace, trying not to spill the hot drink on himself as he jogged lopsidedly toward the source. He was wondering how he would fend off predators ... with a klah mug? When he arrived at the pens, though, he paused and grinned. Not predators at all ... there was a beast in labor!

One look at the animal, however, caused as much concern as anticipation, for she was an older herdbeast, and Caltrain had not really thought she was that far along. Hoping she wasn't delivering prematurely, he climbed gingerly through the rails and approached her. He would not interfere unless she seemed to be in trouble, but his presence didn't seem to disturb her. She was far too preoccupied.

The beast went down, folding her legs beneath her, and was breathing heavily. Caltrain counted the breaths, and found them steady, if labored. A good sign. She lowed loudly, the cry raising to a shrill pain-filled whine at the end, and in the growing pre-dawn light he could see a sharp contraction ripple through her belly. Grunting with effort, the herdbeast lifted herself again, trying to move away from the discomfort, and as she did so, her water broke.

Fluid gushed over the ground, and the beast's eyes showed white as the contractions intensified. Within a moment, a pair of tiny sharp hooves appeared, soon followed by a nose. Good, then, the calf was presenting properly. The mother grunted again, pushing hard. With each push, the baby would protrude further, further, sliding back part way as the contraction relaxed. It seemed like it was taking forever, though the sun was not climbing much farther toward the horizon. Caltrain watched, trying to be patient, resisting the urge to run over there and tug on those little hooves to hurry matters. It was better for the dam and the calf if she could push it out naturally.

Suddenly there were legs, and an entire head, and another great heave pushed the calf's shoulders past its mother's hipbones, and....

Swish!

The little red-coated, white-faced youngster poured like liquid onto the ground behind it's mother, trailing fluid that steamed in the morning air, and a mass of afterbirth.

"A clean birth, there, good job, mother!" Caltrain said quietly as the dam turned to begin cleaning her baby.

The young man watched, smiling, leaning against the paddock fence as the babe was dried with a great pink tongue. Rukbat had risen enough to be peering over the rim of the Weyr now, and the light that fell on the scene was golden-pink and magical. His first birth....

The dam suddenly gave a great grunt, spayed her legs, and pushed hard again and-- Plop!

"Hey, twins!" Caltrain cried, his grin broadening to show the gap in his teeth. "Good job indeed, mother, though I don't know where you were hiding them!"

As the beast turned to clean the second calf, Caltrain edged forward and took a look at the first ... a bull: meat then, the dragons would like that.

Mamma-beast spun suspiciously toward the human insulting her first born, and as she did so, the man slipped behind her to check the second -- another bull!

Slightly disappointed, for he knew the Weyr could always use good breeders, Caltrain shrugged and backed up to the rail again, slipped through, and trotted back toward his quarters. He had a supply of medical things there, gleaned from the rather haphazard infirmary, and within a few moments was returning with antiseptic and a pair of blunt shears to cut the umbilical cords if needed. It seemed that Mamma-beast had already taken care of that, though, and by the time he arrived baby one was standing and nursing, and baby two working very hard at the art of struggling to its feet.

He dipped the ends of the cord stumps in antiseptic to prevent infection, and grabbed a shovel, rake and some sawdust to clean up the afterbirths.

Caltrain couldn't resist watching his firstborn twins nurse for a moment before, covered in bloody gunk from the placentas and membranes, and wearing a grin the size of the Southern continent, he headed back toward the Weyr.

He spotted M'kel from a distance, and waved, calling out, "Twins! Both male, they'll grow into nice meals for some lucky dragons!"

[M'kel]

M'kel, mug of klah in hand, strolled across the Bowl towards the steps leading up to his weyr. This Weyr was, unfortunately, too new as of yet to have a proper system installed to call down for breakfast. So, although he grumbled, the swift walk in the brisk morning air made the klah all the more enjoyable when he finally got his hands on it.

Sipping the steaming liquid, the bronze rider was startled by the sight of a bloody figure stumbling across the stone towards him. He was about to cast aside his mug and race to the man, but then a familiar voice called out, and the image was explained. The limp now identified the figure as Caltrain, the new lad who had assumed the role of Beastmaster in the Weyr, and the blood was obviously a by-product of assisting in the birth of those twins.

Overcoming his initial shock, M'kel chuckled amusedly, nearly spilling the klah. "If you don't get yourself washed off soon, the dragons might fancy you for a nice meal!" It was hard not to be buoyed by the other's enthusiasm, even if he wasn't a dragonrider, and M'kel found it increasingly difficult to remain 'superior' to this one. No matter, the Weyrwoman was far too busy with important matters to notice his deviance.

[stargayzer]

Caltrain's eyes sparkled at M'kel's joking comment. "You may be right there, 'future weyrleader'. Besides, as the sun rises higher and the air warms, I may become rather ripe!"

He nodded amicably and moved off at as close to a trot as his lopsided gait could manage, for a moment missing the feel of a runner beneath him. The weyrfolk didn't seem to mind his limp, but he still felt self-conscious about it, having used his riding skills to work around it for so long. It had been weeks since he left the runnerhold, weeks since he'd ridden.

The thoughts were still on his mind when he emerged, clean and content, found himself some solid food, and headed back out into his day.

--

It was several days later, the days moving by swiftly, another beast dropping her calf, a heifer this time, and Caltrain was enjoying the brief moments he could steal away from work -- which was plentiful -- to watch the new younglings nurse and play. The older beasts were starting to show more flesh as well, the good nutrition in the wild fodder showing it's merit. He had also, during a wherry-gather, discovered a field of wild watergrains in a wetland below the Weyr that he had set a team to cultivating. The cooks enjoyed that find as much as anyone, and the high-protein grain was being added to the beast feed as well.

Preoccupied by the successes and frustrations of his new life, the sound almost didn't register to Caltrain's mind. He paused, scowling, tilting his head, wondering what had disturbed his thoughts.

Then it came again.

The shrill scream of a frightened runner -- and then the neigh of an angry one, a stallion if Caltrain knew his beasts.

He stood, hands full of fodder, torn between finishing his feeding chores and running toward the familiar sound. It appeared to be coming from the tunnel, though, and he spotted Tirenth on the ledge above the entrance. So, whatever was happening, M'kel already had the situation in hand.

Reluctantly, he went back to feeding, rushing through the hauling of water and distribution of hay, casting watchful glances toward the tunnel as he worked.

When M'kel appeared with a young woman and two runners ... beautiful runners ... high quality animals even when viewed from this distance ... however, all chores were halted. Caltrain leaned his pitch fork against the fence of the pen he was cleaning, wiped his hands off on his trousers, and limped in the direction of the newcomers.

He could see that M'kel was steering the woman toward him, and he put a smile on as he approached. When within earshot, he called out, "Hello! I hadn't expected to see two such fine runners enter my day!" Several steps closer. "I'm Caltrain, the new Beastmaster here at Araelen Weyr, welcome! If you like, I'll take those two off your hands and stable them in a quiet spot where they can relax a bit and lose some of their fear." Nearly upon them now. "That's a fine young stallion you have there, and the mare is pregnant, isn't she? About to foal soon, in fact, if I know my runners." Then, face to face, looking at the pair close up and....

"Hey! That's Elegant Destiny! I rode her as a two year old!"

Caltrain's eyes flashed with shock and insult, and he turned to spear M'kel with his glare. "M'kel, that mare is stolen!"

[M'kel]

The bronzerider nodded, pleased, as he spotted the familiar gait of the Weyr's new Beastmaster. He gestured towards Caltrain and grinned at Ravyna. "Just the man we need to see! That's Araelen's Beastmaster. He'll take care of these two for you somehow, although he's got his hands full trying to revive our pathetic beast herd. I saw a new batch headed up the slope after you that didn't look much better." He snorted in disgust. "Can't even supply dragons with proper feed. The Holders in this time are fools." M'kel glanced sideways at this newest arrival, curious as to whether she'd retaliate once again.

His speech was cut off as Caltrain neared, and the other's usual unstoppable flow of words began. M'kel rolled his eyes slightly, grinning nonetheless, until the other's tone altered noticeably and caught his attention. The bronze rider stopped immediately, staring in consternation at the Beastmaster. Stolen? "No, Caltrain, you must be mistaken. It's probably her father's horse or perhaps she purchased it, or..." He knew he was fumbling for excuses. The lad was so genuine and tactful in all other matters, it seemed highly unlikely that he would ever accuse someone without reason. The dragonrider glanced over at Ravyna, hoping she'd reassure them of her innocence.

[ravyna]

Ravyna painted on a smile as she saw the little, limping man approach. He reminded her, other than the gait, of the runner jocks she'd seen at various racing establishments and track meets. Small, wirey, and she'd experienced the surprising strength in those narrow, steel muscles more than once.

She was waiting for a gap in the young man's flow of words to return his greeting, when the look in his strange eyes suddenly shifted.

Shells. In all of Pern, what were the chances?

Forcing back a flow of panic, Rav got her breathing under tight control, and the friendly look in her eyes shifted to one of calculated caution.

"You have a good eye, Beastmaster. Caltrain, is it? Although most would probably start denying accusations like this, I shall not. This is indeed Elegant Destiny, although she's called Vision in my company. And yes, her previous owner reported her as stolen."

She took the practiced, relaxed stance of one unconcerned with the danger that was currently facing her, and gently stroked the mare's face. Although Vizzy was still tense and twitching at the presence of dragons, however distant they might be, the caresses caused her to shift to a stance of comfort. Her peripheral vision on the Beastmaster's face, Ravyna saw when he, also, relaxed slightly and one brow raised in curious interest. Yes, this was a runner-man through and through, in tuned with the emotions of the beasts around him. Vizzy herself would show him whom she called "owner".

"'Stolen', however, is a matter of perspective." Although not one normally to reveal details of her life to strangers, Rav could see that she had no choice here. "In order to survive, as a young woman holdless by choice, I've had to ... perform various services ... for compensation."

The look on the Beastmaster's face caused her to pause, and she chuckled softly. "Oh, don't worry, those sorts of services I leave to other sorts of women! In this case, I worked as a trainer for several months, with animals that the current oaf hired as head trainer in Lord Latrican's employ wasn't able to handle. I have a bit of a way with them -- runners that is, humans I can take or leave -- and set myself up, for a time, as a traveling "beast whisperer" of sorts. After all, how many useful skills could I have, raised in the sheltered environment of my past? Runners really are one of my few talents," she said frankly. "There was a stallion -- the sire to this mare's foal -- who was highly valuable as a breeder but impossible to handle due to abuse he received as a colt at the hands of the aforementioned oaf. I stepped in and offered my services to gentle and retrain him, and then instead of being paid I was thrown out and beaten, and Sir Oaf took the credit."

She pressed her forehead to the mare's face in unembarrassed affection. "So I took the mare ... and a piece of the lovely stallion I'd grown so fond of."

She turned suddenly and lifted her tunic, showing an expanse of tight muscle and ribs -- crisscrossed by the obvious scars left by a nine-tail whip. "My honor-card," she said quietly, and yanked the cloth back down. "What would you have done in my place?"

She looked both to Caltrain and to M'kel, her eyes challenging them to respond.

[M'kel]

As Ravyna attempted to explain the situation, M'kel's surprise grew and grew until it peaked in wide-eyed shock as she bared her scarred back. He tore his fixated gaze away from the marks as she lowered the tunic once again, then gaped at the dark-haired figure before him. She seemed to have transformed in his eyes, no longer the defiant, insolent girl who had presented herself at the Tunnel, nor the defeated, hopeless child sprawled on the hard stone after a fall. This was a young lady who had suffered much, in the way of both insult and injury, and now she was seeking protection and acceptance in the Weyr.

M'kel felt a growing fierceness towards those who had wronged her, and his shocked gaze narrowed into a defiant one, reminiscent of Ravyna's initial reaction when he had 'misinterpreted' her runnerbeasts. "Bloody, sharding Holders...they'll learn to--" he paused, suddenly realizing that it wasn't a dragonrider who had been wronged, "treat Pernese properly in this time, if I have anything to bloody well do about it. A lot has changed over the Turns, and it's time to establish a better norm." Though his defensive response was one he'd expect to feel only for his kind, the bronze rider regarded this vulnerable creature as requiring any protection he could offer.

"The beasts are yours," he stated simply. "You are Weyrfolk now, and you'll receive the respect that position deserves." M'kel's fists were clenched, and he forced himself to relax the biting grip. "Go to the Headwoman now; Caltrain will take care of the runners." Then, as he turned to depart, the bronze rider had a sudden thought and asked in an offhand manner, "Oh, what was the name of that head trainer again?" The dragonrider knew that she hadn't mentioned it but hoped that she wouldn't realize that.

[stargayzer]

Caltrain listened, his anger abating as the girl spoke, his resolve growing weaker. Runner-thieves were the lowest of the low, he should be growing more and more angry at her story. It had been beaten into him from childhood, such thieves deserved the harsh punishments Pern's legal structure levied out to them.

But he also knew that head trainer ... and remembered the fear he'd felt when his own master had sold that filly to Latrican's stables. Latrican himself had no love for the beasts, only the winnings, and had hired the man because he knew he could keep the underlings in line with a rod of fear.

He watched M'kel's facial expressions as the woman spoke, and his own eyes echoed the shock at the sight of her scars.

"The magistrates are there to handle issues such as yours," he said weakly, knowing full well that the "magistrates" would take the side of whoever could pad their purses in such a situation. He doubted that he, himself, would have doubled back to collect compensation, as this girl had done, but he certainly couldn't blame her.

M'kel's next words, about how the dragonriders would change things, stirred an odd feeling in Caltrain's heart. He listened, his mind darting off to visions of a future of justice, a society that defended the weak rather than the rich, and he shook himself out of the reverie to meet the girl's angry gaze.

"And we all know how efficient the magistrates are." He gave her a sarcastic half-smile and shrugged. "I've felt the whip myself a few times -- and though I would never approve of runner-stealing," he made sure she saw the lingering condemnation of the act in his eyes, "I guess I can't blame you. I won't turn you in. Vision, ey? Good name for a mare who had the look of dragons in her eyes when she raced. She'll produce a fine foal ... foals, if I'm not mistaken, for I do like the look of your little stallion." Caltrain then grinned devilishly and added, "He's not stolen, is he?"

At M'kel's final question, he didn't wait for the girl to respond. "The head trainer's name is Raster, and he's a brute, for sure. Don't worry, he doesn't have the brains to figure out that you sought refuge from the Weyr, ...? Now, I know your mare's name, but what is yours?"

[ravyna]

Ravyna's respect for the bronze rider took a sudden leap as she heard his spoken resolution. She doubted, inside, the ability of dragonriders to impart such drastic and positive changes, but the determination in his voice was inspiring, and she admired him for his visions.

Relief washed through her as Caltrain admitted that he knew Raster well enough to believe her story. So she really was safe here at the Weyr ... not that she'd ever had any doubt of avoiding the authorities while on the move. It would be nice to be able to stop running, though, and she breathed a sigh of relief at M'kel's vow to honor her need for sanctuary, and Caltrain's to not turn her in.

As the dragonrider strode away, she allowed a gaze of admiration to linger on his back, and thought briefly that she might even be willing at some time to rescind certain other denials she'd thrown at him in anger during their encounter in the tunnel. He wasn't so bad after all, and she of all people shouldn't object to a touch of arrogance in a person's makeup.

Caltrain's final question caused her to chuckle, and relax her guard just a touch more. "Ravyna," she said with a half-smile. "And the stallion is Renegade ... his friends call him Renny. You can call me Rav if you like. I've instructions to meet the Headwoman, but if you don't mind, I'd like to see where my two friends here will be bedded down before I do so."

At the Beastmaster's agreement, she followed him to a set of high-ceilinged, airy caverns along the wall of the Weyr bowl, and admired at the way they'd been converted to a neat, compact beasthold. The weyrfolk had built paddocks and corrals of local timber and from the color and work of it, most of them appeared to be brand new. In fact, across the way a bit, she could see a workteam assembling yet another pen, not far from a nice sized flock of fat, noisy wherries.

The pink glow that appeared on Caltrain's face when she complimented the layout told her that most of this efficient little setup was probably his doing.

Ravyna helped Caltrain bed down the two runners in large, secure stalls built into the beasthold cavern. She was somewhat surprised that they were the only two runners present, and set herself to the pleasurable task of how she might acquire more once she'd settled in. Once her friends were secure and content, their mangers filled with nutritious wild fodder, she thanked the Beastmaster and turned toward the large entrance of the lower caverns that he'd pointed out to her.