Vignette: Fortune favors the bold
Date: Day 26, Month 5, Turn 22 of Interval 10
Taikrin gets a present from an old... acquaintance. Not only is it unexpected, but both it and its implications are a bit dangerous.
The weyrbrats were, generally speaking, in two camps when it came to Taikrin. One group was convinced she was the devil herself, given the way she stole Szadath (who was, of course, the paragon of everything a brown hatchling could hope to be) from a more deserving (Weyrbred, male) candidate. They were convinced her ability to kill a man from fifty paces, to pick your pockets with her eyes closed, and live underground for weeks on end were unholy talents and that she was a creature to be feared and reviled at turns.
The other camp, however, fell perilously close to hero-worshipping Taikrin. Her skills were the stuff of legend! She could kill a man from fifty paces with her /eyes closed/, wrestle a fully-grown dragon to the ground, and find all the best sneaking spots. Who else could be more deserving of the most awesome brown hatchling ever shelled?
Thankfully for the weyrbrat, the boy who ventured into the weyrling cavern to deliver a package to the brown weyrling pair was firmly in the latter camp. His scrawny nine-year-old chest puffed out with pride, and there was a bit of a swagger to his steps as he sought out Taikrin for his task. The barracks were nearly empty, due to a gorgeous spring afternoon, but the brown pair were stuck inside, apparently studying for one of Taikrin's interminable Harper lessons.
"Taikrin!" Unable to contain his enthusiasm, he skidded to a halt at the corner of the weyrlings' couch, where Taikrin sat with a dozing Szadath's head in her lap. "Y'got a package from the tithe train! Check it out!"
The papers she'd been studying forgotten, Taikrin eyed the kid up and down a moment before breaking out her most devilish smirk. "Package, huh? Les'see it." Without waiting for an acknowledgement, she plucked the brown-wrapped parcel from the proferred hands, adding casually, "Got a note or whatever sayin' who sent it?"
"Note-- oh! Yeah!" The boy dug around in a pocket for a moment, then pulled out a somewhat rumpled bit of paper and proferred that, too. "Here."
Taikrin, at her most casual, merely asked, "Y'can read, right? Read it t'me while I get this thing opened up." She only glanced up once, quickly, before beginning to shred the wrapping around the box.
"Of course I can!" Pride practically oozed from him, now, as he began to read aloud, haltingly:
Taikrin,
I hope this letter finds you and your dragon well. We heard about your great triumph, and wished to express our congratulations to you. We believe this new development will provide you many opportunities in life that have otherwise been denied you.
We wish you to know that we hold no feelings of ill-will regarding our last contact. Things out of our control do happen, and nobody is at fault. To this effect, we have sent you this token of our esteem; you will find it opens in the usual way. It contains what you are due plus a gift from our associates. It is our hope that you will find enjoyment from it.
Once you have gained your independence, we look forward to renewing our friendship with you. We hope we may have many successful ventures together in the future.
Regards,
Zuman and Associates
Word-by-word Taikrin's pallor increased, until even her lips were visibly white at the close of the letter. Her discomfiture was enough that Szadath began to rouse, making grumbly noises as he stretched out sleep-cramped limbs.
"Is that one of your friends-- oh! Did I wake him up? I'm sorry!"
There was nothing of contrition on the boy's mein, though: in fact, he so elated was he that he completely overlooked Taikrin's shaken expression in favor of beaming at the brown.
"No-- yeah. Sorta. Real old friends. Haven't heard from 'em in a while. What's yer name, anyways?"
Taikrin's mind whirled, attempting to piece together hidden meanings in the letter without tipping off the boy that something was amiss. With exhagerated casualness, she reached out to take the letter and stuffed it beneath the box.
"I'm Felross! And-- aren't you gonna open it? Your package? Bet they sent you something /good/! When my big brother impressed /his/ friends from the herders sent him this great riding jacket and a beltknife!"
"In a minute. Say, Felross-- Now Szadath's up I gotta take care of somethin', but why don'cha meet me outside in like an hour an' y'can help me oil 'im up, if y'want?"
"Oh! Yeah! That'd be wicked!" Grinning from ear to ear, the boy regarded the sleepy Szadath as one would a prize. "An hour, right? Y'won't forget?"
Szadath rumbled, then, blinking sleepy lids at Felross. "Won't forget. Szadath's lookin' forward to it. Promise. Now git-- an' remember, one hour. 'Kay?"
"'Kay!" And with that Felross dashed back out of the caverns to brag to /all/ his friends that he got to oil the /most awesome brown ever/.
Once she was sure he was out of earshot, Taikrin glanced around worriedly before ducking low on her couch, dislodging Szadath's head from her lap in her haste to exam the contents of the box. The brown slipped unconcernedly to the ground, though he promptly turned to eye the box with a curiously whirling eye. It was a relatively small thing, made of dark wood, with a somewhat intricate puzzle locking mechanism holding it shut.
<< What's this? What did you get? >>
"I dunno, Szad. Present from... some people I used t'work with. Secret. Box's like a puzzle. Y'gotta push in the right spots t'get it t'open." Suddenly doubly-concerned, she directed a firm eye towards the brown. "I mean it. Secret. Y'can't go tellin' nobody 'bout that I got somethin' or who it was from, y'got it?"
<< But... why? Aren't presents nice things? >>
"Because-- I ain't s'pposed t'get 'em. People don't think I got no friends."
<< What do you mean? I'm your friend. Pterath's is your friend. We're all a team, right? >>
"Well, yes'an'no, Szad. Like, y'know how F'reln's always makin' comments, an' how Rhabarith ain't allowed t'play with you? Lots of people don't think real kindly of me."
<< Why? Because you can beat them all up if you wanted? >>
"Hah, yeah, well-- they're afraid I'm gonna, y'know?" Taikrin couldn't help but smirk wryly at the observation, despite the tension otherwise evident in her frame. "An' besides-- /shells/!"
Taikrin finally managed to crack open the lid, and her first glance inside revealed more wood. Lots more wood. In little, numbered discs. She swirled the contents with a finger, awestruck, and it wasn't until Szadath stuck his nose in so far he practically inhaled one that she found her voice.
"Marks. They're marks. Bloody flaming shells. Gotta be near fifty marks in here. Way more'n they owed me... shells."
<< Marks? Like-- treasure? You found a treasure! Like Iskiveth is looking for! We should tell her so she knows what a treasure looks like! Only- do you think she'd try to steal it? >>
"No-- YES! YES! You can't tell Iskiveth /especially/ because she'd try t'steal it. An' she's so sneaky we might not even see 'er before she did it. That's why it's gotta be a secret!" Taikrin grabbed Szadath's head with both hands, pulling him close to her body for emphasis. "Nobody! Y'understand? Or they're gonna steal our treasure!"
Szadath heaved his grown bulk around to the end of the couch, glancing both ways down the aisle as though someone could be coming to steal his treasure /right now/. << I'll guard it! It'll be a secret! Nobody's going to get past me! >>
Taikrin shuffled past him with the box, and promptly began to bury it at the very bottom of her press beneath her rather pathetic assortment of clothes and knicknacks, and put on a confident smile for the brown. "That's my boy."
Still, she took quite a bit of care to hide her real thoughts from Szadath: If they find out I have this, they're gonna think I stole it. I /did/ steal some of it. They'll put us both down in the mines. Nobody can ever know!
Taikrin gets a present from an old... acquaintance. Not only is it unexpected, but both it and its implications are a bit dangerous.
The weyrbrats were, generally speaking, in two camps when it came to Taikrin. One group was convinced she was the devil herself, given the way she stole Szadath (who was, of course, the paragon of everything a brown hatchling could hope to be) from a more deserving (Weyrbred, male) candidate. They were convinced her ability to kill a man from fifty paces, to pick your pockets with her eyes closed, and live underground for weeks on end were unholy talents and that she was a creature to be feared and reviled at turns.
The other camp, however, fell perilously close to hero-worshipping Taikrin. Her skills were the stuff of legend! She could kill a man from fifty paces with her /eyes closed/, wrestle a fully-grown dragon to the ground, and find all the best sneaking spots. Who else could be more deserving of the most awesome brown hatchling ever shelled?
Thankfully for the weyrbrat, the boy who ventured into the weyrling cavern to deliver a package to the brown weyrling pair was firmly in the latter camp. His scrawny nine-year-old chest puffed out with pride, and there was a bit of a swagger to his steps as he sought out Taikrin for his task. The barracks were nearly empty, due to a gorgeous spring afternoon, but the brown pair were stuck inside, apparently studying for one of Taikrin's interminable Harper lessons.
"Taikrin!" Unable to contain his enthusiasm, he skidded to a halt at the corner of the weyrlings' couch, where Taikrin sat with a dozing Szadath's head in her lap. "Y'got a package from the tithe train! Check it out!"
The papers she'd been studying forgotten, Taikrin eyed the kid up and down a moment before breaking out her most devilish smirk. "Package, huh? Les'see it." Without waiting for an acknowledgement, she plucked the brown-wrapped parcel from the proferred hands, adding casually, "Got a note or whatever sayin' who sent it?"
"Note-- oh! Yeah!" The boy dug around in a pocket for a moment, then pulled out a somewhat rumpled bit of paper and proferred that, too. "Here."
Taikrin, at her most casual, merely asked, "Y'can read, right? Read it t'me while I get this thing opened up." She only glanced up once, quickly, before beginning to shred the wrapping around the box.
"Of course I can!" Pride practically oozed from him, now, as he began to read aloud, haltingly:
Taikrin,
I hope this letter finds you and your dragon well. We heard about your great triumph, and wished to express our congratulations to you. We believe this new development will provide you many opportunities in life that have otherwise been denied you.
We wish you to know that we hold no feelings of ill-will regarding our last contact. Things out of our control do happen, and nobody is at fault. To this effect, we have sent you this token of our esteem; you will find it opens in the usual way. It contains what you are due plus a gift from our associates. It is our hope that you will find enjoyment from it.
Once you have gained your independence, we look forward to renewing our friendship with you. We hope we may have many successful ventures together in the future.
Regards,
Zuman and Associates
Word-by-word Taikrin's pallor increased, until even her lips were visibly white at the close of the letter. Her discomfiture was enough that Szadath began to rouse, making grumbly noises as he stretched out sleep-cramped limbs.
"Is that one of your friends-- oh! Did I wake him up? I'm sorry!"
There was nothing of contrition on the boy's mein, though: in fact, he so elated was he that he completely overlooked Taikrin's shaken expression in favor of beaming at the brown.
"No-- yeah. Sorta. Real old friends. Haven't heard from 'em in a while. What's yer name, anyways?"
Taikrin's mind whirled, attempting to piece together hidden meanings in the letter without tipping off the boy that something was amiss. With exhagerated casualness, she reached out to take the letter and stuffed it beneath the box.
"I'm Felross! And-- aren't you gonna open it? Your package? Bet they sent you something /good/! When my big brother impressed /his/ friends from the herders sent him this great riding jacket and a beltknife!"
"In a minute. Say, Felross-- Now Szadath's up I gotta take care of somethin', but why don'cha meet me outside in like an hour an' y'can help me oil 'im up, if y'want?"
"Oh! Yeah! That'd be wicked!" Grinning from ear to ear, the boy regarded the sleepy Szadath as one would a prize. "An hour, right? Y'won't forget?"
Szadath rumbled, then, blinking sleepy lids at Felross. "Won't forget. Szadath's lookin' forward to it. Promise. Now git-- an' remember, one hour. 'Kay?"
"'Kay!" And with that Felross dashed back out of the caverns to brag to /all/ his friends that he got to oil the /most awesome brown ever/.
Once she was sure he was out of earshot, Taikrin glanced around worriedly before ducking low on her couch, dislodging Szadath's head from her lap in her haste to exam the contents of the box. The brown slipped unconcernedly to the ground, though he promptly turned to eye the box with a curiously whirling eye. It was a relatively small thing, made of dark wood, with a somewhat intricate puzzle locking mechanism holding it shut.
<< What's this? What did you get? >>
"I dunno, Szad. Present from... some people I used t'work with. Secret. Box's like a puzzle. Y'gotta push in the right spots t'get it t'open." Suddenly doubly-concerned, she directed a firm eye towards the brown. "I mean it. Secret. Y'can't go tellin' nobody 'bout that I got somethin' or who it was from, y'got it?"
<< But... why? Aren't presents nice things? >>
"Because-- I ain't s'pposed t'get 'em. People don't think I got no friends."
<< What do you mean? I'm your friend. Pterath's is your friend. We're all a team, right? >>
"Well, yes'an'no, Szad. Like, y'know how F'reln's always makin' comments, an' how Rhabarith ain't allowed t'play with you? Lots of people don't think real kindly of me."
<< Why? Because you can beat them all up if you wanted? >>
"Hah, yeah, well-- they're afraid I'm gonna, y'know?" Taikrin couldn't help but smirk wryly at the observation, despite the tension otherwise evident in her frame. "An' besides-- /shells/!"
Taikrin finally managed to crack open the lid, and her first glance inside revealed more wood. Lots more wood. In little, numbered discs. She swirled the contents with a finger, awestruck, and it wasn't until Szadath stuck his nose in so far he practically inhaled one that she found her voice.
"Marks. They're marks. Bloody flaming shells. Gotta be near fifty marks in here. Way more'n they owed me... shells."
<< Marks? Like-- treasure? You found a treasure! Like Iskiveth is looking for! We should tell her so she knows what a treasure looks like! Only- do you think she'd try to steal it? >>
"No-- YES! YES! You can't tell Iskiveth /especially/ because she'd try t'steal it. An' she's so sneaky we might not even see 'er before she did it. That's why it's gotta be a secret!" Taikrin grabbed Szadath's head with both hands, pulling him close to her body for emphasis. "Nobody! Y'understand? Or they're gonna steal our treasure!"
Szadath heaved his grown bulk around to the end of the couch, glancing both ways down the aisle as though someone could be coming to steal his treasure /right now/. << I'll guard it! It'll be a secret! Nobody's going to get past me! >>
Taikrin shuffled past him with the box, and promptly began to bury it at the very bottom of her press beneath her rather pathetic assortment of clothes and knicknacks, and put on a confident smile for the brown. "That's my boy."
Still, she took quite a bit of care to hide her real thoughts from Szadath: If they find out I have this, they're gonna think I stole it. I /did/ steal some of it. They'll put us both down in the mines. Nobody can ever know!