. s t a t s . c a n d i d a t e . h a t c h i n g . r i d e r . b e a c h s h a r d s . c a n d i d a t e » one turn pre-search ______________________________ Amiane paused in her work to stand up, stretch as slowly as possible, and smile at the two boys who had been watching her for the better part of the hour. She toyed with the thought of going over to meet them, but decided to keep on working and see if they decided to stick around. "Amiane, stop flirting with them!" her mother scolded her. "We have to have half the field harvested if we want to keep a roof over our heads and you'll just have to keep away from those boys for a little longer." Amiane sighed and went back to work, casting a wistful glance at the boys. "Why don't you just find a husband already? Then he could work and you and I could relax for once instead of worrying where our next meal is going to come from." Mialne made a face. "Men. Who needs them? All they want to do is control you, Amiane. When I was with your father, he controled me like a drudge. Dragonriders are the worst like that, especially bronze riders. They have to control everything! But now, without C'rem or any other man, I'm free!" "If you'd stayed with him, we'd be living in Quinalt. We'd be living like Ladies compared to how we live now!" Amiane insisted. "I bet he'd take you back if you just asked." "Not likely, now that he's high and mighty Weyrleader and he's got a goldrider to bed," Mialne said with a snort. "He'd probably deny ever seeing me, or you being his daughter." "Well I'm sure there's someone there who'd take you," Amiane suggested. "Or you could hire on as a foster mother for the weyrbrats. I'll even be a foster mother! I don't want to live like this anymore!" Mialne shook her head. "Amiane, this may seem bad, but it's nothing compared to the Weyr. I'm never going back there, and you'd do well to stay away from it too." Amiane shook her head sadly and kept working. Her entire body screamed for her to stop working, but she did not have the luxury of collapsing. She had to keep working, or else they could be turned out of yet another home. But the sun was so hot, and her muscles ached, and even the ground looked soft and inviting to her fatigued eyes. Somehow, Amiane got through the rest of the harvest and made it back to her small room in the cothold. She fell onto her bed, deep asleep before she actually hit it. When she woke up, it was much later, and she knew she had probably missed the evening meal. She probably hadn't missed much, the evening meal was never more than some wherry meat, bread, tubers, juice, and maybe boar or herdbeast if they were lucky. The man who owned the cothold was not a very good hunter or herder. Priss had flown in sometime while Amiane was sleeping and the black flit was now curled up in her customary spot in the curve of Amiane's neck. She gave a sleepy squawk of protest when Amiane sat up but was quieted by a head scratch. Seeing that her human was ready to go somewhere, finally, she chirruped and showed Amiane an image of meat with a feeling of hunger. "How do you stay so thin and eat all that food?" Amiane grumbled as she changed into clean clothes. She sighed as she looked at the condition of the clothes she had been working in, another perfectly good outfit lost to hard labor. Riull, Likoa, and Theris, three of the girls she had become friends with during her stay at this particualar cothold, were also in the kitchens, gossiping over sweetrolls and klah. Riull's little brown Mud was also enjoying his evening meal and Priss promptly flew over and shouldered the smaller flit away from his meal. Leaving the flits to fight it out, Amiane went over to the three girls and pulled up a chair. "Heya gorgeous," Likoa chirped. "Had a hard day in the fields?" "The hardest part was my mother," Amiane complained as she reached for a sweetroll. "She's so sharding stubborn about supporting us without a husband." Theris smiled sympathetically. "At least she's not like my mother, depending on my father to do everything for her. If she worked half the time you two do everyday, she'd probably shrivel up and die." Amiane sighed. "I don't know. At least your father isn't off at Quinalt, probably not even remembering that you're alive." "It's no small honor to be the Weyrleader's daughter," Riull reminded her. "I mean, how many girls can say that?" "Plenty around Quinalt, if C'rem's like every other dragonrider," Amiane scoffed. "I'm not even his daughter by a dragonrider, I'm just an accident from the leftovers of a mating flight." Riull shrugged. "He's still your father, no matter how it happened." "Is this how a Weyrleader's daughter is supposed to live?" Amiane asked. "I bet all his other children are pampered weyrbrats, looking forward to the day when they can ride dragons like Da. Well that's not my life." "Do you think any of us like working in the fields?" Theris demanded. "We might not have fathers in high places, but we're still working like you. Like most people. It's something special to be the Weyrleader's daughter, but don't let yourself believe you're better than this. This is life for the average holder, deal with it." "I don't think I'm better than you," Amiane insisted. "I'm just saying that life's harder without a father, whether he happens to be the Weyrleader or not." Theris opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by a sharp knock on the door. "Anyone been expecting anyone?" Amiane asked, frowning when everyone shook their heads. Priss's head shot up from her meal. She trilled happily and showed Amiane an image of a bronze dragon. "Priss says something about a dragon." Riull nodded. "So does Mud. Girls, I think our lives just got a bit more interesting." Amiane got up and went to the door, a still chittering Priss on her shoulder. She opened it to see an exhausted, smelly, yet still handsome dragonrider standing there. "You wouldn't have some klah to warm a rider up, would you?" he asked, flashing one of the most handsome smiles Amiane had ever been the subject of. "Of course," Amiane replied and stepped aside to let the rider in. "But first, a bath. You stink of firestone." "I may need a bit of help," the rider cautioned with a mischevious grin. "Sitting on a dragon for six hours straight makes a man stiff." Amiane smiled and slapped him softly on the arm. "One of those types, are you? What's your name?" "Ch'gen," the rider replied. "Rider of bronze Krishanuth. And you must have a name to go with that beautiful face." "Flattery will get you nowhere," Amiane warned with a chuckle that suggested otherwise. "I am Amiane. These are my friends, Riull, Likoa, and Theris." Priss gave an indignat trill and nipped Amiane's ear. "And this is my flit, Priss." "Hello to all of you," Ch'gen said, giving each of the girls a smile like the one Amiane had recieved. "Would Priss, by any chance, be interested in helping Krishanuth with his bath?" Priss and Mud both winked out instantly. "I think she is," Amiane replied. "And now for your bath, which you will have to endure unassisted." "Are you sure you can't help me?" Ch'gen persisted as he was pushed down the hallway towards the bathing room. "I'm sure it'd be fun." "Fun as it sounds, I have to make a new pitcher of klah for you," Amiane apologised and threw a drying hide at him. "Now get in there and bathe!" Ch'gen made a face and, taking the drying hide, went into the bathing room, pointedly leaving the door open. Amiane chuckled, waved to the bronzerider, and closed the door. "I thought you didn't like riders," Likoa remarked as she returned and began making a new pitcher of klah. "I don't like C'rem because he abandoned me and my mother," Amiane corrected her. "I'm fine with any other handsome riders who happen to drop by. "For all you know, he could be your half brother," Theris chuckled. "Don't think you're getting him that easy," Amiane warned. "He didn't ask any of you to help him with his bath, did he?" "He's a flirt," Riull reminded her. "He's not going to pick just one of us. We could share him. Let's draw for who gets him first." "Or we could just let him pick," Amiane suggested. "If we're going to share him, it doesn't matter who gets him first, does it?" "He might not pick you, Ami," Likoa corrected her. "You have just as good odds if you draw." "It's his decision anyway, no matter who wins the draw," Amiane insisted. "Let's just let him choose." "How could I possibly choose between for beautiful girls?" Ch'gen demanded. He was clad only in the drying cloth tied around his waist, showing off the muscles of a dragonrider. "You're going to have to," Amiane told him as she gave him a mug of klah. "Or should we choose for you?" Ch'gen slumped into a chair, catching his drying hide under the chair leg and having to hastily pull it back up. "Hmm, give me a minute, would you? It's a hard choice." "How bout you take that minute to go put some clothes on?" Amiane asked. "Save the drying cloth for later." "I may need some help..." Ch'gen tried again. "Oh, you're a big boy, you can dress yourself," Amiane told him and gave him a shove towards the bathing room. "Don't come out until you've got pants on and have decided." Ch'gen came back in a few moments later, this time with his riding pants on. He flung apologetic smiles at Riull, Likoa, and Theris, and then slipped his arm around Amiane's waist and led her down the hall to her room. _____________________________ . n e x t .