Энн Маккефри - Dragon’s Kin

Dalor stirred uncomfortably from his spot in the room. Master Zist glanced at him, eyes narrowed, and then turned to Kindan. “Lad, get Swanee to cook some towels in boiling water. We’ll need to clean the baby when it arrives. Take Dalor to help you.”

Kindan gave the Harper a quizzical look, then enlightenment dawned and he grinned. Dragging a reluctant Dalor after him, he left the room.

Out of earshot, Kindan said to the other boy, “If we work it right, we can get your sister in to substitute for you some of the time.”

“Oh, please,” said a figure appearing out of the shadows. It was Nuella. “I’d like to be there; Mother will want me.”

“But if Margit or Milla—” Dalor protested.

“They won’t know if there’s only one of you in the room at a time and you wear the same clothes,” Kindan said. “Not in all the excitement.”

“That will only work if you wear my cap,” Dalor said, pulling the cap he usually wore off himself and stuffing it on Nuella’s head.

“And put your hair under it,” Kindan said. Nuella took the cap off, twirled her hair up into a bun and stuffed the cap back on.

“Perfect!” Dalor said. “You look just like me.”

“But if you forget the cap or it falls off, you’ll be caught out,” Kindan warned. Dalor looked frightened.

Nuella settled the matter, telling Kindan, “When you go down, be sure to have the cook sterilize the sharpest knife she has—she’ll moan, but don’t listen—that’ll be to cut the cord. Have her put it on one of the boiled rags so it stays sterile.”

Kindan started down to the kitchen wondering just when Dalor’s sister had taken charge.

All the same, his plan worked perfectly. Kindan deftly managed it so that Dalor and Nuella switched off every quarter hour. After Jenella’s first wide-eyed recognition of her daughter and Nuella’s subtle nod in Kindan’s direction, Jenella calmed down with a grateful smile and clasped Nuella’s hand tightly.

When the baby came, Margit deliberately stepped away to let Master Zist receive it. Kindan got the distinct impression that she wanted to place the burden—figuratively and literally—in the Harper’s big hands. And that’s how it turned out. One moment the Harper was leaning in, calling soothing words to Jenella, and the next moment there was a little snuffle and a slight mewing sound.

“Kindan, come here with that knife,” Master Zist ordered. When Kindan came around, he saw the small newborn still attached by its umbilical cord.

“Make a loop with the cord,” Master Zist instructed. As Kindan complied, the Harper said to Natalon, “Come cut the cord and welcome your new daughter into the world.”

Natalon, with a proud look at his wife and a big smile on his face, cut the cord. Margit took the baby from Master Zist, quickly wiped it off with the sterile towels, and looked up for blankets to wrap the baby in.

“I’ll get them,” Nuella offered, hastily leaving the room.

Margit followed her departure with a penetrating look, saying to Jenella, “You’ve got a good lad there. Usually it’s only the daughters that know where the baby things are kept.”

“Dalor’s been talking about this for a while,” Kindan said, improvising quickly. “Although I think he was hoping for a brother.”

“He’ll be pleased with a sister, I’m sure,” Natalon said. He gazed happily at Jenella. “I know I am.”

Dalor returned, sweating visibly, with the baby things and passed them on to Margit, who wrapped up the newborn and passed her to Jenella.

“I don’t know what the Harper thinks,” Margit said with a nod to Master Zist, “but I think she’s perfect.”

Kindan was surprised to see that Master Zist’s face was flowing with tears.

Margit’s face fell when she noticed. “Oh, Master Zist, I’m sorry, I’d forgotten you’d had one of your own.”

Master Zist nodded, wiping his eyes. “I did,” he said after clearing his throat. He looked to Jenella. “I’m sorry, but your lass looks the same as mine did when she was born.”

“What was her name?” Kindan asked softly.

“Carissa,” the Harper murmured. He forced a smile on his face and looked toward the proud parents. “And what are you going to name this bouncy one?”

Natalon and Jenella exchanged glances. “We don’t know yet.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Margit agreed. “Now why don’t you leave while I help Jenella and her babe get settled in.” And she backed up her words with determined shooing motions with her hands. “Milla, you can stay and help.”

By the time the others had collected downstairs, the early morning light was showing. Natalon bit back a curse. “I’m late for my own shift!”

“I think they’ll understand,” Master Zist told him.

“I had Swanee send word, Father,” Dalor added.

Natalon gave him a grateful look and let out a big sigh of relief.

“It’ll be a long day for all of us,” Master Zist said to Kindan as they made their way back to the Harper’s cothold. “But that’s the way things go, sometimes.”

Kindan nodded in agreement but was robbed of words by a huge yawn.

“Some klah will help you start the day,” Master Zist said.

Kindan had a great tale to tell as he set the watch. It was still bitterly cold in the watch-heights so he stayed on to gather kindling and firewood as the first watcher got settled in. He was back down the hill in time for classes with Master Zist and back up again at lunchtime, when the morning mist was finally lifting, to spell Renna, Zenor’s eldest sister, while she got her lunch. So it was he who first saw the trader caravan approaching.

Being the first to spot the trader caravan, Kindan quickly sought out the Harper who was handling, between yawns, a class of busy younglings.

“Natalon’s in the mines,” Master Zist said when Kindan told him. “You’ll need to send someone to let him know.” He paused consideringly. “Do you know what else to do when a caravan arrives?” Kindan nodded. “Well, you’d best get it done, then.”

“But I’ve only Turned eleven,” Kindan complained, wondering how he would get such oldsters as Swanee and Ima to do his bidding.

Master Zist looked down his nose at him. “Then it will be an interesting challenge for you.”

“Right,” Kindan said, catching on at once. “I’ll figure something.”

By the time he met Ima, the camp’s butcher, Kindan knew what to say. “There’s a caravan coming in. Master Zist sends his compliments and asks if you could prepare enough extra meat to feed another twenty.”

He used the same strategy with Milla and Swanee. It worked every time. Finally, having set everything in train, he decided that he was the right one to deliver the message to Natalon in the mines.

He had kept Kaylek’s second set of coveralls, but as he hurriedly put them on, he discovered that he was still a bit too small and had to roll up both the sleeves and the legs. Kaylek’s hard hat fit once he adjusted the headband—perhaps, he thought ruefully, Kaylek’s teasing about his big head had had some measure of truth in it. Properly attired, though without good work gloves, Kindan made his way to the mine entrance.

Inside the mine, he was pleased to recognize Zenor. Zenor was tired and grumpy. “All I ever do is work topside,” he groused. “Honestly, Kindan, I saw more of the mines when you and I had to change the glows.”

“Natalon has you working the pumps?” Kindan asked rhetorically. When Zenor nodded miserably, Kindan clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, he must trust you a lot, putting his life in your hands like that.”