by Candy Rae
Tana’s face was resolute with determination and Rhian, glancing at her, felt her lips twitch. “We’re going to split you into three groups of six,” she informed them and told them off into their sixes.
Tana and Tavei found themselves in the group under Rhian and Tadei, together with Tamir and Whalya. The other four pairs she didn’t know so well but she noticed that they were all boys. She was the smallest but that was nothing new to Tana although Tamir wasn’t much taller.
They followed Rhian and Tadei to a corner of the field where they formed up around them. They concentrated hard as Rhian explained some of the basic facts about fighting alindback. The Lind listened hard, to Rhian and Tadei, the latter giving out further instructions telepathically.
Rhian split the six into three groups of two and Tana found she was facing Tamir and Whalya.
“Now,” Rhian instructed, “walk towards your opponent. A lindlength away raise your sword and bring it down on that of your opponent with a mutual check.”
Soon Rhian and Tadei’s corner of the field was filled with the clack of wooden sword hitting wooden sword as they did this again and again. They then performed the manoeuvre whilst trotting and running. It was harder than they had thought.
Once they had mastered this, albeit with varying degrees of success, Rhian called Tana and Tavei out and began to demonstrate how to disarm an opponent, bringing down her sword with a flick of her wrist again and again whilst Tana tried and failed to parry it. Each time Tana lost it Rhian waited for her to dismount, pick it up and prepare to meet another.
Rhian repeated the exercise with the other five duos. She was unstinting with her corrections when she felt that her pupils were not concentrating. The corrections hurt.
: This is a lot harder than I thought it would be : Tana ‘sent’ to Tavei as she watched Tamir being put through his paces.
: Wait until we’re doing it at the run : he answered with a mental chuckle.
: I’m looking forward to it :
Tana’s natural enthusiasm was not dimming one whit.
Towards the end of the lesson Rhian permitted them a short spell of trying to disarm each other and Tana found this a lot easier, only losing her sword once to Tamir’s nine but she knew that, until she could disarm Rhian, she would not be happy.
The bell signifying the end of the lesson came too soon for Tana although even she had to admit that she was aching all over and couldn’t have gone on for much longer.
“A hot bath will ease your bruises. Class dismissed.”
Tana left with the others, determined to persevere and undaunted by Rhian’s words. She decided then and there that she would be the first amongst her yearmates to watch as Rhian was forced to dismount to retrieve her sword from the ground.
A History Lesson
Rob was the teacher at Vada who was, as he put it, charged with the duty of installing a modicum of learning into largely unresponsive brains. This day he decided that history should and would be studied.
History at the Stronghold was taught by the direct method, with students being given a topic to research and then demonstrating their knowledge or lack of it with a bell filled with questions, answers and explanations.
This season, the first year cadets were studying the first fifty years after mankind had arrived on the planet.
On the whole, the cadets were finding the subject interesting. To most it was not new. Those brought up in Vadath were all well versed in the stories, as were those who had arrived from Argyll although they had been taught with a different bias.
To Beth and a few of the others the topic was all as new as the dawn sun. She was enjoying learning about the early years but was struggling with the bookwork as her reading skills were still at a rudimentary level.
Rob had appointed an unofficial tutor to her from amongst her year group, Tamir, a young man who was well advanced on the lessoning front. Jess, who would have liked to have been the one allocated to Beth, had been appointed as helper to one Petar who had come from one of the northern religious communities and whose studies to date had been restricted to holy tracts and books. She found the task tedious at times but she liked Petar and that made her task easier.
She settled down at her desk and prepared to enjoy herself. History was her favourite general studies subject and Rob was an interesting teacher. With his vivid use of language he made the subject come alive somehow, the people became real people, with thoughts and dreams and not just characters in a book.
Once they had settled down, no mean feat for some of them after their weapons-practice, he began, “we shall continue with our study of the events that led up to the Battle of the Alliance in Anno Landing Two. You should have read and inwardly digested the chapter I gave you for homework.” He scanned his class with violet-blue eyes as one or two wriggled uncomfortably, “so we shall leave the questions and answers for now and I will tell you about some aspects of those months that are not included in the chapter.”
The young faces before him brightened at this; perhaps, like the other day, Rob would get so engrossed in his storytelling that he would forget about the questions. Rob’s eyes twinkled and rested for a moment on the small group of Lind sitting at the back. They liked to attend some of his history classes. Their oral traditions about these years often presented a different perspective on the events. Rob encouraged their involvement; they had, in the past, shed light on certain aspects of events that were unclear, even to him.
The class settled down to listen and Rob began, “as you know, it was quite a shock to our ancestors at Settlement when they found out that they were not alone on the planet. Indeed, Commander Stuart MacIntosh said as much in his diary. This diary, we have a transcription in the library if anyone is interested enough to want to read it, is not one primarily of his personal thoughts, but of facts. It is one of our main sources of information pertaining to these months. Now, think back to our very first lesson, what type of source is it?”
A number of hands were raised and Rob made his selection.
“Tamir?”
“It is a primary source,” Tamir answered.
“The other type?”
“Secondary.”
“And who can tell me the difference between these two types of source material?”
Beth raised a tentative hand; the first time she had ever volunteered information in class. Rob was quick to notice. “Beth?”
She recited it parrot-fashion, Tamir had drilled the information into her so that she was word perfect, “a primary source is a document or physical object which was written or created during the time under study. The people who wrote them were present during an experience and offer an inside view of a particular event. A secondary source interprets and analyses primary sources. These sources are one or more steps removed from the event. Secondary sources may have pictures, quotes or graphics of primary sources in them.”
“Excellent.” Rob beamed at her, “so the diary is very important because it is an account of events as they happened and by someone who was there. Keeping that in mind let me read to you a short passage:
Cold. Frost on high ground.
Jim Cranston, Thomas Wylie, Tara Sullivan return today with news much to the relief of the families of the missing children, with four creatures who call themselves Lind. Planet has hidden dangers. Their leader is one Afanasei, huge wolf-like creature as big as a horse, very civilised, urbane and with an intelligence at least matching ours, perhaps greater. Mystery of what happened at Armstrong farmstead solved. Looks as if we will have to fight to survive here. Settlement situated in direct path of vicious and warlike creatures called Larg who have home in the continent to the south. Afanasei tells us they will attack in summer.
News of Electra, the prison ship that was part of the convoy. It too survived cosmic storm and found way here. Fate of crew and families unknown.
Everyone in state of shock. Panic in certain areas.
Must find out what Electra prisoners are doing
.
Speak to Robert Lutterell about weapons.
Defensive walls.
Move to islands?
Armour. Swords? Bows and arrows?
How to kill the Larg.”
He stopped. “Has anyone any comment to make about what I have just read?”
“He’s not very expansive,” ventured Jess at his nod.
“He was not a natural storyteller,” explained Rob, “he was a Spacefleet Officer, more used I would imagine, to writing reports than keeping a diary. Anything else?”
“He doesn’t mention about vadeln-pairings,” she said, finding this omission very thought provoking.
“Perhaps he didn’t think it important,” suggested Rob, “he is more concerned about the survival of the people under his command. This concept is something you should keep in mind when reading source material, what one thinks important might be omitted.”
“I still think he should have written more about what he thought about it all, deep inside. It would have helped us get a better feel about what it was like in those days.” Jess sounded disgruntled.
“One person did,” said Rob, “wonder if anyone can guess who?”
“Tara Sullivan?” suggested Tamir.
“She did, but later,” he answered, “remember that at this time she was only about twelve years old. Her recollections she wrote when she was in her thirties and her words must be influenced by what happened afterwards. Still a primary source, but one that has to be used with care. Try again.”
“I know,” Jess beamed at him.
“Perhaps you would share your knowledge with your classmates,” teased Rob.
“It has to be Winston Randall,” she said, “he’s a sort of ancestor of mine. I know he kept a diary. I’ve never read it. My grandmother told me about it.”
“It has never been published,” Rob informed the class. “I have, however, managed to get hold of a transcription. He was not so much concerned with the dangers our ancestors faced but with the blossoming partnerships developing between his fellow colonists and the Lind and with the opportunities it presented.”
“Please could you read us some of it?” pleaded Jess.
He shook his head, “I think that must wait until next time.”
There were sighs of disappointment but, despite further pleadings, Rob would not be moved. “Next lesson and that’s a promise, as long as you all hand in a short essay about what you think the reactions of the colonists were when they heard the news Jim Cranston brought. Now, as we’ve got some time left let’s revise your homework. Jess, can you tell me the names of the twelve children who went missing from Settlement?”
Jess could and did. The question and answer session continued until the bell rang and the cadets fled to their chore duties.
A Chore Duty
Anton had been Chief Cook at the Stronghold for a number of years. He had the honorary rank of Vadryzka as had the Chief Cooks before him. He had snow white hair and a wrinkly face with laughter lines round his eyes and mouth. Unlike most of those who worked in the cookhouse he was vadeln-paired. He was not a native of the Northern Continent. No-one knew why or how, all these years ago, he had arrived in Vadath where he had paired with Susya. He had disclosed little about his early life to anyone, until, that is, he met Beth.
In fact, he originated from one of the more southerly islands in the Great Eastern Sea, one that was allied to the Kingdom of Murdoch.
Beth had met him early on during her time at Vada but it wasn’t until later that Anton decided that he would like to get to know her better. He had realised as soon as she had uttered her first words that she originated from the Southern Continent. He kept this knowledge to himself but, remembering his first trying months when he had vadeln-paired with Susya, he had resolved to help her. A talk between his Susya and his friend Harld’s Alya might also have had something to do with his decision. Anton’s and Susya’s duties might be restricted to the cookhouse now but they still kept in touch with their old friends.
By now, Anton and Beth had struck up a friendship and Beth found herself looking forward to the bells when she did chore-time in the kitchens.
Today, Anton intended to make a dish called junket and Beth was going to help him.
He beckoned her over once she had donned the apron, required attire for his kitchen workers, after making sure that the other cadets were applying themselves to the jobs in hand under the watchful eyes of the undercooks.
A pleased Beth joined him at the worktable.
“Junket today Beth,” he announced gesturing at the items laid out on the table. “It’s a nutritious and tasty dish if it’s prepared right and popular too, especially the way I make it.”
“Junket?” she queried, the word was new to her.
“Yes, junket. You’ve eaten it yourself. It takes a while to make but is worth it. Look, I’ve already measured out the milk. It’s in that large cook pot.”
Beth asked what was in the covered dish standing beside the pot.
“That’s the rennet,” explained Anton. “The other, smaller dish contains the flavouring that we’re going to add. In fact, I’ve left the sweetener on the shelf in the pantry. Go fetch it for me will you?”
But Beth made no move to do as he asked. She stood in front of Anton, a bewildered expression on her face.
“What’s wrong Beth?”
Beth was feeling sick. “I’d never have eaten it if I’d known,” she managed to get out. “If someone had told me that there was that in it I would have spat it out. Why it’s just horrible!” She shivered.
Anton’s eyebrows rose. He couldn’t imagine why she was so upset.
What neither of them realised was that Beth was confusing the word rennet with the word jennet. Anton had a speech impediment that made him apt to shorten the first consonants of his words. He realised that this was another of those times.
“Rennet,” he repeated, emphasising the first consonant.
It didn’t help. Beth remained confused and shocked.
A jennet was a southern term for a certain type of horse, usually ridden by noblewomen. It was noted for its smooth ambling gait, was around fourteen hands high and had a gentle disposition, thus considered the perfect mount for females to whom fast, rough riding and hunting was forbidden.
Beth’s mother rode a jennet, a fine-boned animal that Beth had been permitted to ride once or twice.
She thought Anton was about to prepare a dish made out of milk and horsemeat. She had also never heard of a dish that mixed milk and meat and when Anton had mentioned sweetener she had begun to think that he had gone slightly mad.
She backed away, “I don’t think I want to help cook that.”
“Why ever not?” asked the confused Anton. “It’s a very tasty pudding.”
“Pudding? A pudding made out of meat?”
Anton tried to work out why Beth believed he was about to make a pudding out of meat. Enlightenment came after a few moments and he burst into a cheery laugh. “My dear girl,” he said, “I said rennet, not jennet.” He chortled and one or two nearby looked up to see what the joke was. “I can see I’ll have to be more careful with my words when you’re around.”
Beth blushed.
“Junket,” explained Anton, “is a pudding, a dessert, made out of milk, sweetening and rennet. Rennet isn’t even made out of any part of an animal although in the dim and distant past it was. A jennet is a horse.”
Beth emitted an embarrassed laugh, “I did confuse the two rather didn’t I? Silly mistake. I seem to be making a lot of them lately.”
“Nerves,” Anton said, “try to relax Beth, go with the flow and try to enjoy yourself.”
“I’m scared of making more mistakes.”
“But because you are nervy you are making mistakes, believe me, I know. I’ve been there, so keen to prove that I, as a southerner, was as good as the next and blundering into things, saying stupid things. Stop; take a deep breath and listen. Listen to what your instructors ar
e telling you and only take action when you really understand.”
: Man is right : Xei advised her : he understands. I tell you later of some things he said and did when he first became cadet :
“Xei?” queried Anton, noting her abstracted face.
“Yes, he says …”
“I can imagine,” mock-grimaced Anton, “Susya still harks back to those days when she feels I need taking down a peg or two. Compared with what I did and said, your confusion of rennet and jennet pales into insignificance. One day soon we’ll have a long chat about the differences between our former lives and now.”
“I would like that,” said Beth, who was by now beginning to laugh at her mistake. “So what exactly is rennet?”
“Rennet is an enzyme, we don’t need to go into details about what that is, suffice to say that it solidifies parts of the milk and causes it to separate into solids and liquids. It used to be made from the stomachs of young animals, such as cows. That’s still how it is done in the South. Their cheeses are solidified using animal rennet. Here we don’t have any cows, the stomachs of the native kura and zarova are different and don’t produce the enzymes. Here we use other ingredients to produce the rennet. We extract the enzymes from vegetables and roots. Most roots endemic to Rybak have coagulating properties, especially whiteroot.”
“What does coagulating mean?”
“It’s the verb meaning the solidification of liquid such as the separation from cheese-milk into curds and whey.”
Beth understood that, remembering her governess’s patient instructions as to how cheese was made in the cool dairy adjoining the castle kitchens. It was part of a noble girl’s training to understand how the household was ordered and how it worked. Not that Beth had been able to experience the actual making of the dairy produce, but she knew the theory of how the processes worked.
“So how do we make junket?”
Anton smiled at her enthusiasm, “to begin with we heat the milk and add the sweetener, so you go off to the pantry and get it while I put the pot on the stove.”
