Part 31 (1/2)

S'nan had insisted on being allowed to convey the two Lords Holder for he had been as stunned by the impeachment as Jamson.

”My word!” the Fort Weyrleader said, staring about him.

Magrith was staring too, and Paulin had to suppress a grin since the dragon was looking in one direction, his rider in the other.

The courtyard was neat and the recent snow swept from the paving which showed fresh cement grouting. The road, in either direction, was no longer bordered by straggling bushes and weed trees. The row of cot holds sported fresh roof slates, repaired chimneys and painted metal shutters, all obviously in good working order. Although some of the upper windows were already shuttered tight, the facade was no longer festooned with dead vine branches. Sunlight glinted off solar panels that had been cleaned and repaired.

Piled under a newly built shed were HNO3 tanks, racked for easy usage, with the hoses and nozzles hung properly on pegs. Kalvi had told Paulin that he'd been asked to deliver the Bitran consignment within a week of Vergerin taking Hold. And the following week he had sent his best teachers to instruct in their use and maintenance.

Vergerin wore a good tunic over his trousers, but they were made of stout material and he had obviously been working before his guests arrived. He greeted Paulin affably and responded courteously to the introduction to Jamson, whose response was frosty.

”You've done a lot since you took over, Vergerin,” Paulin said, giving the man the encouragement of his public support. ”I wouldn't have believed it possible, frankly.”

”Well,” and Vergerin grinned in the most charming way, ”I found Chalkin's h.o.a.rd, so I've been able to hire in craftsmen.”

”Even the nearest holders aren't accustomed to me yet and timid?”

”Scared, more likely,” said Paulin dryly.

”That, too, I'm sure, but I've done what I can to supply them with materials to make their own repairs. The Hold was in an appalling state, you know.”

Jamson grunted, but his eyes widened as he saw the quiet order and cleanliness of the first reception room. S'nan made approving noises deep in his throat and even ran a finger across the wide table with its attractive arrangement of winter berries and leaves. A drudge, in livery so new the creases hadn't been lost, was hurrying across the hall with a heavy tray.

”My office is quite comfortable,” and Vergerin gestured for them to enter.

Paulin noticed that the heavy wooden door gleamed with oil and the bra.s.s door plates were polished to a high gloss.

The interior had been totally replaced, with work-tops, tidy shelving and bookcases. A scale map of Bitra Hold was nailed up on the interior wooden wall; beneath that was the northern continent and, oddly enough, the Steng Valley. Did Vergerin plan to reopen the mines there? A fire burned on the hearth, three upholstered chairs cozily arranged, while a low table evidently awaited the tray. Polished metal vases on the deep window-ledge held arrangements of bright orange berries and evergreen boughs: altogether a different room under Vergerin's management.

”There's klah, an excellent broth which I do recommend, and wine, mulled or room temperature,” Vergerin said, gesturing for his three guests to take the comfortable chairs.

”You've a new cook as well, Vergerin?” Paulin asked, and pointed to the steaming pitcher when Vergerin grinned.” I'll sample the broth, then.” Jamson didn't mind if he did, too, but S'nan wanted the klah.

”You remember the back staircase, Paulin?” Vergerin asked, taking the broth as well and pulling up a straight chair for himself.

”I do. Was that where the marks were hidden?”

”Yes, in one of the steps.” Vergerin chuckled. ”Chalkin must have forgotten that I knew about that hidey-hole, too. It's been a life-saver, both to return unnecessary t.i.things and to buy in supplies. One thing Chalkin did do correctly was keep records. I knew exactly how much he had extorted from his people.” Jamson cleared his throat testily.

”Well, he did, Lord Jamson,” Vergerin said without cavil. ”They hadn't even enough in stores to get by on this winter, let alone have reserves for Fall. I'm still unloading what we couldn't possibly use from what Chalkin had ama.s.sed.” Vergerin gave a mirthless laugh.

”Chalkin would have weathered all fifty years of the Pa.s.s from what he had on hand... but none of his people would have lasted the first year. Let alone have the materials to safeguard what they could plant out. Bitra being established after the First Fall, there were no hydroponics sheds although the tanks are stored below.” Jamson gave another snort.

”And the gaming”?

”Have you curtailed that?”

”Both here and elsewhere,” Vergerin said, flus.h.i.+ng a little. ”I haven't so much as touched dice or card since that game with Chalkin.”

”What about his games men?”

Vergerin's smile was grim. ”They had the choice of signing new contracts with me - for I will not honor the old ones or leaving. Not many left!”

S'nan barked out a cackle of a laugh. ”Not many would, considering the hazards of being holdless during a Pa.s.s. You have done well, Vergerin.” He nodded in emphasis.

”You've had a second chance, Vergerin,” Jamson said, waggling his finger, ”so see that you continue to profit by such good fortune.” He had finished the broth and now stood. ”We will go on a quick survey of the holds, if you please.”

”Of course,” and Vergerin rose hastily, pus.h.i.+ng back his chair. ”By horse.”

”No, no.” Jamson dismissed that. ”You've no need to accompany us. Better if you don't.” ”Now, Jamson,” Paulin began, for it was discourteous of the High Reaches Holder even to suggest Vergerin stay behind.

”Certainly, as you wish.” Vergerin motioned them to pause at the map and indicated directions. ”We've managed to complete all the necessary repairs on the holds adjacent to or not far from the major link roads. Those high up have had to wait on supplies. I can't overdo my welcome at Benden Weyr, though M'shall has been far more obliging than I thought he'd be.”

”It's to his advantage to oblige,” S'nan said stiffly, at the merest hint of criticism of a Weyrleader.

Jamson had opened the door into the Hall and stopped so short, staring at the opposite wall, that Paulin nearly walked up his heels.

Jamson muttered something under his breath and, pointing at the wall, turned to Vergerin.

”Why under the sun are you hanging his portrait there?” he demanded, almost outraged.

Paulin and S'nan peered in the direction indicated.

And Paulin had to laugh.

”When did Iantine get a chance to redo it?” he asked.

Vergerin, who was also broadly grinning, answered ”I got it yesterday,” and he walked across the Hall to stand beneath it. ”I think the likeness is now excellent.”

There was a moment of silence as they all viewed the portrait, now altered to an honest representation of the former Bitran Lord close-set eyes, bad complexion, scanty hair and the mole on his chin.

S'nan sniffed. ”Why would you want his face around at all, Vergerin?”

”One, to remind me to improve my management of Bitra, and two, because it's traditional to display the likenesses of previous Lord Holders.” He gestured up the double-sided staircase where hung the portraits of previous inc.u.mbents.

Jamson harrumphed several times. ”And Chalkin? How's he doing?” Paulin shrugged and looked to S'nan, for only dragon riders could get to the exile's island.

”He was supplied with all he needs. There is no need to exacerbate his expulsion by further contact.”

”And his children?” Jamson asked, eyes glinting coldly.

Vergerin grinned, ducking his head. ”I feel they have improved in health, well-being and self-discipline.”

”They stood in great need of the latter,” Paulin added.

”They may surprise you, Lord Paulin,” Vergerin said with a sly smile.

”I could bear it.”

”As the branch is bent, so it will grow,” Jamson intoned piously.