NaNoWriMo, sort of. Chapter 55...
is behind
Chapter 55.
Pinch Pots
Rumau had thought she would spend all her time exploring the inner pond of the Rose; Emma had found it and pronounced it quite excellent. But early the next morning, she went outside the Rose, Perennet at her side, and there along the bank of the river was clay.
Rumau had not touched clay for far too long. She sat down on a stone and gathered up some of the yellowish-grey clay in her hands, and ran it through her fingers. It was a very fine fire-clay, with a beautiful grain and an excellent feel.
Perennet watched as Rumau began to gather drier clay from here and there, and she carefully copied everything Rumau did with it. After a while, when she had a huge pile, Rumau noticed this. She sat down again and said, “Perennet dear, would you like to learn to use clay?”
The hannu beamed at chirped, and then nodded.
Funny, Rumau thought. She had never yet heard a hannu speak. She was sure that ability would come in time, and they certainly made speech-like sounds from time to time, and readily imitated words, but...
“This is clay, Perennet. Say, ‘clay.’”
Perennet listened carefully.
“Say, ‘clay.’” Rumau touched Perennet’s chin and lips. “’Clllaaaay.”
Perennet said, “khhe...iiih.”
“Very good!” Rumau said. But she didn’t think it was, in fact, all that great. “Now, watch me carefully.”
Rumau cleared off a nearby flat stone, brushing off dust and debris with a handful of grass. Then she took a fist sized lump of clay and began to kneed it on the stone into a pliable form. Perennet watched intently, and soon began to copy what she saw.
“Excellent!” Rumau shouted. “This is called ‘wedging,’ you see. The more you wedge clay, the more plastic the clay becomes.”
“Kriii’...” Perennet tried to say.
“Good, good!” Rumau said, trying to sound as encouraging as possible. “Now. Watch me very carefully, yes?”
Other hannu, who had been practicing riding and archery some distance away, stopped what they were doing to watch. Some wandered a bit closer.
With Perennet’s big eyes rivetted on her hands, Rumau rolled the clay into a ball. She then made a large dent in the middle, and slowly formed the rough lump into a small cup.
Perennet watched enraptured. She made cooing sounds and soon picked up her own lump of clay and began to try and make a cup of her own. Her hands were small, but her fingers nimble and very quick. Rumau stood behind her and showed her how to refine her technique somewhat, and soon, Perennet, too, had a rather decent little cup.
“You did it!” Rumau said, thrilled! “Excellent! Well done, Perennet, you’ve made a pinch-pot! When it’s dry and fired, you can keep things in it, or use it for drinking! Watch!” Rumau scooped up some water from the river in her own cup (which had already hardened somewhat), and took a drink.
With great glee, Perennet did the same-again and again until her cup began to dissolve.
“Too much water!” Rumau said, laughing. “The clay is too wet. You need to let it dry some. Come on, come make another one. Pinch Pot. Come on.”
By now, many of the other hannu had come close to watch. “Clay,” Rumau said brightly to all of them. She punched small lumps off her own pile, and rolled them toward the hannu. “We’re making pinch pots!” She sat down and began to make another one.
Perennet eagerly made another pot, but decided she didn’t like it and smashed it on the rock.
“That’s okay. You can try again,” Rumau said.
But one of the other hannu, who had been standing behind Perennet, took the arrow she was holding, and stabbed Perennet’s pancake of clay with it, making a noise that was surely a derisive laugh.
Rumau shot up. “BAD HANNU!” she roared. “Don’t you dare do that again!”
The hannu in question glared at her and Rumau glared back. The other hannu stood around their compatriot and glowered as well.
Rumau sighed, and yelled, “Mignette! Come and talk to your daughters!”
From beside the Rose, Mignette came stalking, calling, “Hannu YEH!” as she walked. All the hannu, Perennet included, suddenly looked like cornered rats. “Go and practice! All of you! You too!” the latter aimed at Perennet, who turned momentarily to look at Rumau, who (somewhat ruefully) nodded, and went off the practice her archery with the others.
“What was going on here?” Mignette said, as she looked down at the masses of clay, one pierced with an arrow.
“Oh, I was trying to teach Perennet how to make a pinch pot and-”
“Rumau!” Mignette said with exasperation, “Please! Don’t waste their time with that kind of thing, they need to learn!”
“They need to learn more than just archery and riding, Mignette!”
“No they... Rumau, remember, they were bred for a reason. You are getting attached. You will rue it. Trust me.”
Rumau leaned down to be on eye level with the beruliy. “I don’t care if they were bred to be rugs, Mignette, everybody, but everybody, needs to learn as many things as they can!” She stood up and pointed to the remaining pinch pot. “All learning is worthwhile! And look what the others did, it was just jealousy, it was just plain, ornery...”
Rumau stopped.
Her jaw dropped.
“Forget it,” Mignette said, turning to leave.
“Mignette...” Rumau said, with a growl that not only made Mignette stop, but Yre, Aurrigne, Emma and even some of the horses take notice.
“What?”
“This was absolutely, positively, NOT worthless!” She was staring at the clay patty with the arrow in it.
Mignette looked up at Rumau almost pityingly.
Rumau picked up the arrow, and flashed it in front of Mignette. “When you go to fight someone who is shooting arrows at you, how do you protect yourself?”
Mignette went to speak, and then looked a bit startled. “We stay behind Rose boughs. Or we stay behind the hannu.”
“Ah!” Rumau snapped. “So the hannu are shields then. You breed to them take arrows for you. And the other side, the people you’re fighting, they have hannu too. What are the hannu for, then? Just to waste arrows on? What if you and your hannu were wearing something that arrows could not penetrate?”
Mignette just stared.
Rumau marched to the Rose, and brought out of her sack of possessions a small, already fired plate. She set it on the rock, took the arrow, took a bow from a hannu, and shot the arrow at the plate at point-blank range.
The plate cracked.
But the arrow bounced off.
And suddenly, Mignette understood. The look in her eyes said it. She gasped and held her breath.
Rumau stood up and called to the others. “We’re not staying three days. We’re staying a whole week! Some of us are preparing clay, and some of us are gathering eggs to help build a kiln! Starting right this minute! The hannu will help, they learn quickly and I told you that all learning is worthwhile!” With a smile of delight, Rumau began to marshall hannu and give instructions. Mign-ette backed them up with constant barks.
Emma began to clear work spaces.
Yre turned to Aurrigne and grinned.
... b ...
Rumau was in her element now, as she hadn’t been in months. She divided her companions up into several teams. Emma led a group of hannu who gathered clay and removed debris from it. Normally, the clay would have required slaking and other extra preparations, but there simply wasn’t time.
Mignette and a second group brought Rumau stones of a kind she (Rumau) thought good to make a kiln from, there being neither time, nor a ready of eggs, for making firebrick. Yre gathered wood for fuel, and seemed to relish being able to run around freely again.
Aurrigne was still unable to carry very much, so to him was assigned the task of going about the Rose, and all the plants nearby, finding any type of vine or runner that could be braided into straps with which to attach the armor plates. It took Aurrigne rather a long time to get to the point where he could braid easily, but once he got into his rhythm, he became very good at it.
Rumau questioned Mignette at length regarding how big the hannu were going to get, and how fast, using this information to determine the lengths of braid that they would need.
... b ...
By the next day, Rumau was able to start actually forming the clay into plates. Perennet happily stood and allowed Rumau to use her as a model against which to mold chest plates of various kinds, arm plates and greaves.
The hannu learned quickly, just by watching. When the clay began to run out, many of them went off on their own to gather more. The kind they gathered wasn’t always exactly the right kind, but it was always clay of some sort, and not simply river mud. Soon they were fashioning their own armor. Two or three of them even tried to fashion armor for Mignette.
Rumau, as soon as she was able to get a moment to concentrate alone, also made armor for herself. To be perfectly honest, she thought, she had no idea how long such armor would last. Clay was, after all, notoriously brittle. It might take one hit, or several, but it would not last very long. If only she could make it from something else... but she had nothing else, and even if she did, clay was what she knew - and she knew it well.
By the end of the second day, Rumau had a full set of armor for herself. She also had made, though she had not dared try to fit (given his scorching refusal) a set of armor for Yre. She had fit it instead on Aurrigne, who was willing, due to his lack of feathering, to be a model. She hadn’t told him that this armor was in fact for Yre; not because she thought Aurrigne would object, but because she felt she knew Yre would not wear it if Aurrigne had worn it first. Shimeyu were very like children. She would make armor for Aurrigne too. Eventually.
Another problem arose. Rumau had insisted that she alone actually make the plates, and was fairly certain that in doing so she had eliminated any bubbles in the clay in which steam might form during firing. But she worried, as she had, of necessity, to dry and fire everything so quickly. Wet clay, especially in so quickly built up a kiln, was pretty much a recipe for explosions. It was simply a risk she was going to have to take. If this worked, even as a concept, then she would have something truly worth bringing back home.
All the plates were sent out in the sun to dry, and three of the hannu work given the job of constantly turning them over so that one side did not dry more quickly than the other, which would warp them. They did this eagerly and fastidiously, especially after Mignette gave them the nod (literally) after Rumau had told them what to do.
Rumau’d intended to stay up the entire night that night, doing the same. But by now she was just exhausted from all her mental effort. Yre volunteered to stay up and do it for her, since in truth he needed very little sleep.
And he did so.
Until all of them were asleep, when he pulled out his lenses and sticks and settle down to study the stars.
(c) 2008 Fara Shimbo
To Be Continued...
Chapter 55.
Pinch Pots
Rumau had thought she would spend all her time exploring the inner pond of the Rose; Emma had found it and pronounced it quite excellent. But early the next morning, she went outside the Rose, Perennet at her side, and there along the bank of the river was clay.
Rumau had not touched clay for far too long. She sat down on a stone and gathered up some of the yellowish-grey clay in her hands, and ran it through her fingers. It was a very fine fire-clay, with a beautiful grain and an excellent feel.
Perennet watched as Rumau began to gather drier clay from here and there, and she carefully copied everything Rumau did with it. After a while, when she had a huge pile, Rumau noticed this. She sat down again and said, “Perennet dear, would you like to learn to use clay?”
The hannu beamed at chirped, and then nodded.
Funny, Rumau thought. She had never yet heard a hannu speak. She was sure that ability would come in time, and they certainly made speech-like sounds from time to time, and readily imitated words, but...
“This is clay, Perennet. Say, ‘clay.’”
Perennet listened carefully.
“Say, ‘clay.’” Rumau touched Perennet’s chin and lips. “’Clllaaaay.”
Perennet said, “khhe...iiih.”
“Very good!” Rumau said. But she didn’t think it was, in fact, all that great. “Now, watch me carefully.”
Rumau cleared off a nearby flat stone, brushing off dust and debris with a handful of grass. Then she took a fist sized lump of clay and began to kneed it on the stone into a pliable form. Perennet watched intently, and soon began to copy what she saw.
“Excellent!” Rumau shouted. “This is called ‘wedging,’ you see. The more you wedge clay, the more plastic the clay becomes.”
“Kriii’...” Perennet tried to say.
“Good, good!” Rumau said, trying to sound as encouraging as possible. “Now. Watch me very carefully, yes?”
Other hannu, who had been practicing riding and archery some distance away, stopped what they were doing to watch. Some wandered a bit closer.
With Perennet’s big eyes rivetted on her hands, Rumau rolled the clay into a ball. She then made a large dent in the middle, and slowly formed the rough lump into a small cup.
Perennet watched enraptured. She made cooing sounds and soon picked up her own lump of clay and began to try and make a cup of her own. Her hands were small, but her fingers nimble and very quick. Rumau stood behind her and showed her how to refine her technique somewhat, and soon, Perennet, too, had a rather decent little cup.
“You did it!” Rumau said, thrilled! “Excellent! Well done, Perennet, you’ve made a pinch-pot! When it’s dry and fired, you can keep things in it, or use it for drinking! Watch!” Rumau scooped up some water from the river in her own cup (which had already hardened somewhat), and took a drink.
With great glee, Perennet did the same-again and again until her cup began to dissolve.
“Too much water!” Rumau said, laughing. “The clay is too wet. You need to let it dry some. Come on, come make another one. Pinch Pot. Come on.”
By now, many of the other hannu had come close to watch. “Clay,” Rumau said brightly to all of them. She punched small lumps off her own pile, and rolled them toward the hannu. “We’re making pinch pots!” She sat down and began to make another one.
Perennet eagerly made another pot, but decided she didn’t like it and smashed it on the rock.
“That’s okay. You can try again,” Rumau said.
But one of the other hannu, who had been standing behind Perennet, took the arrow she was holding, and stabbed Perennet’s pancake of clay with it, making a noise that was surely a derisive laugh.
Rumau shot up. “BAD HANNU!” she roared. “Don’t you dare do that again!”
The hannu in question glared at her and Rumau glared back. The other hannu stood around their compatriot and glowered as well.
Rumau sighed, and yelled, “Mignette! Come and talk to your daughters!”
From beside the Rose, Mignette came stalking, calling, “Hannu YEH!” as she walked. All the hannu, Perennet included, suddenly looked like cornered rats. “Go and practice! All of you! You too!” the latter aimed at Perennet, who turned momentarily to look at Rumau, who (somewhat ruefully) nodded, and went off the practice her archery with the others.
“What was going on here?” Mignette said, as she looked down at the masses of clay, one pierced with an arrow.
“Oh, I was trying to teach Perennet how to make a pinch pot and-”
“Rumau!” Mignette said with exasperation, “Please! Don’t waste their time with that kind of thing, they need to learn!”
“They need to learn more than just archery and riding, Mignette!”
“No they... Rumau, remember, they were bred for a reason. You are getting attached. You will rue it. Trust me.”
Rumau leaned down to be on eye level with the beruliy. “I don’t care if they were bred to be rugs, Mignette, everybody, but everybody, needs to learn as many things as they can!” She stood up and pointed to the remaining pinch pot. “All learning is worthwhile! And look what the others did, it was just jealousy, it was just plain, ornery...”
Rumau stopped.
Her jaw dropped.
“Forget it,” Mignette said, turning to leave.
“Mignette...” Rumau said, with a growl that not only made Mignette stop, but Yre, Aurrigne, Emma and even some of the horses take notice.
“What?”
“This was absolutely, positively, NOT worthless!” She was staring at the clay patty with the arrow in it.
Mignette looked up at Rumau almost pityingly.
Rumau picked up the arrow, and flashed it in front of Mignette. “When you go to fight someone who is shooting arrows at you, how do you protect yourself?”
Mignette went to speak, and then looked a bit startled. “We stay behind Rose boughs. Or we stay behind the hannu.”
“Ah!” Rumau snapped. “So the hannu are shields then. You breed to them take arrows for you. And the other side, the people you’re fighting, they have hannu too. What are the hannu for, then? Just to waste arrows on? What if you and your hannu were wearing something that arrows could not penetrate?”
Mignette just stared.
Rumau marched to the Rose, and brought out of her sack of possessions a small, already fired plate. She set it on the rock, took the arrow, took a bow from a hannu, and shot the arrow at the plate at point-blank range.
The plate cracked.
But the arrow bounced off.
And suddenly, Mignette understood. The look in her eyes said it. She gasped and held her breath.
Rumau stood up and called to the others. “We’re not staying three days. We’re staying a whole week! Some of us are preparing clay, and some of us are gathering eggs to help build a kiln! Starting right this minute! The hannu will help, they learn quickly and I told you that all learning is worthwhile!” With a smile of delight, Rumau began to marshall hannu and give instructions. Mign-ette backed them up with constant barks.
Emma began to clear work spaces.
Yre turned to Aurrigne and grinned.
... b ...
Rumau was in her element now, as she hadn’t been in months. She divided her companions up into several teams. Emma led a group of hannu who gathered clay and removed debris from it. Normally, the clay would have required slaking and other extra preparations, but there simply wasn’t time.
Mignette and a second group brought Rumau stones of a kind she (Rumau) thought good to make a kiln from, there being neither time, nor a ready of eggs, for making firebrick. Yre gathered wood for fuel, and seemed to relish being able to run around freely again.
Aurrigne was still unable to carry very much, so to him was assigned the task of going about the Rose, and all the plants nearby, finding any type of vine or runner that could be braided into straps with which to attach the armor plates. It took Aurrigne rather a long time to get to the point where he could braid easily, but once he got into his rhythm, he became very good at it.
Rumau questioned Mignette at length regarding how big the hannu were going to get, and how fast, using this information to determine the lengths of braid that they would need.
... b ...
By the next day, Rumau was able to start actually forming the clay into plates. Perennet happily stood and allowed Rumau to use her as a model against which to mold chest plates of various kinds, arm plates and greaves.
The hannu learned quickly, just by watching. When the clay began to run out, many of them went off on their own to gather more. The kind they gathered wasn’t always exactly the right kind, but it was always clay of some sort, and not simply river mud. Soon they were fashioning their own armor. Two or three of them even tried to fashion armor for Mignette.
Rumau, as soon as she was able to get a moment to concentrate alone, also made armor for herself. To be perfectly honest, she thought, she had no idea how long such armor would last. Clay was, after all, notoriously brittle. It might take one hit, or several, but it would not last very long. If only she could make it from something else... but she had nothing else, and even if she did, clay was what she knew - and she knew it well.
By the end of the second day, Rumau had a full set of armor for herself. She also had made, though she had not dared try to fit (given his scorching refusal) a set of armor for Yre. She had fit it instead on Aurrigne, who was willing, due to his lack of feathering, to be a model. She hadn’t told him that this armor was in fact for Yre; not because she thought Aurrigne would object, but because she felt she knew Yre would not wear it if Aurrigne had worn it first. Shimeyu were very like children. She would make armor for Aurrigne too. Eventually.
Another problem arose. Rumau had insisted that she alone actually make the plates, and was fairly certain that in doing so she had eliminated any bubbles in the clay in which steam might form during firing. But she worried, as she had, of necessity, to dry and fire everything so quickly. Wet clay, especially in so quickly built up a kiln, was pretty much a recipe for explosions. It was simply a risk she was going to have to take. If this worked, even as a concept, then she would have something truly worth bringing back home.
All the plates were sent out in the sun to dry, and three of the hannu work given the job of constantly turning them over so that one side did not dry more quickly than the other, which would warp them. They did this eagerly and fastidiously, especially after Mignette gave them the nod (literally) after Rumau had told them what to do.
Rumau’d intended to stay up the entire night that night, doing the same. But by now she was just exhausted from all her mental effort. Yre volunteered to stay up and do it for her, since in truth he needed very little sleep.
And he did so.
Until all of them were asleep, when he pulled out his lenses and sticks and settle down to study the stars.
(c) 2008 Fara Shimbo
To Be Continued...