printing press required paper and the forests were going to be
vulnerable for the next fifty years no matter how assiduous the Weyrs
were in their protective umbrella.
One tangle of Thread could destroy acres of trees in the time it took to
get a ground crew to the affected area.
He sighed. If only the organics plastic machinery were still
operating… but the one unit housed in the Fort storage had rusted in
the same flooding that had ruined so much else.
“Ours not to wonder what were fair in life”,’ he quoted to himself,
which is a saying I should have made up to remind me that we’ve got
what we’ve got and have to make do.” He couldn’t help but feel somewhat
depressed, though.
There had been some high moments these last few days, and it was hard to
resume normal routine. Not everyone on the teaching staff was back,
though all should have checked in by late evening. He’d hear then how
the performances went elsewhere. He’d have to wait to learn how the new
curriculum was working. By springtime he’d know what fine tuning would
be needed. He could count on Sallisha for that, he was sure.
By springtime, Thread would fall and the easy pace they had all enjoyed
would be a memory.
Ah, that was what he had to do – he’d put it off long enough write up
the roster for ground crews drafted from students over fifteen and
teachers. He’d promised that to Lord Paulin and, what with everything
else, never produced it. He pulled a fresh sheet of paper from the
drawer, then stopped, put it back and picked up a sheet from the re-use
pile. A clean side was all he needed. Mustn’t waste, or he’d want soon
enough.
Lady Jane herself led lantine to his quarters, asking all the gracious
questions a hostess did: Where had he been for Turn’s End?
Had he enjoyed himself? Had he had the opportunity to hear the splendid
new music from the College?
What instrument did he play’? What did he hear from his parents?
He answered as well as he could, amazed at the difference between his
reception here and the one he’d had at Bitra. Lady Jane was a fluttery
sort of woman, not at all what he would have expected as the spouse of a
man like Bridgely. She must be extremely efficient under all that
flutter, he thought, contrasting the grace, order and appearance of the
public rooms with those at Bitra, and seeing a vast difference between
the two.
No low-level living for him here, either. Lady Jane led him on to the
family’s floor, urging the two drudges who were carrying the canvases
and sky broom wood panels to mind their steps and not damage their
burdens.
She opened the door, presenting him with the key, and he was bemused as
he followed her into a large day room, at least ten times larger than
the cubicle at Bitra, on the outside of the Hold so that it had a wide,
tall window facing northeast. It was a gracious room, too, the stone
walls washed a delicate greeny-white, the furnishings well-polished
wood, with a pleasing geometric pattern in greens and beige on the
coverings.
I do know that artists prefer a north light, but this is the best we
can do for you on that score Benden’s Lady fluttered her hands here
and there. They were graceful, small hands, with only the wide band of
a spousal ring on the appropriate finger. Another contrast to the
Bitran tendency to many gaudy jewels.
It’s far more than I expected, Lady Jane,’ he said as sincerely as he
could.
And I’m sure it’s far more than you had at Bitra Hold,’ she said with a
contemputous sniff. Or so I’ve been told. You may be sure that Benden
Hold would never place an artist of your rank and ability with the
drudges. Bitrans may lay claim, and her tone expressed her doubt, to
having a proper Bloodline, but they have never shown much couth!” She
noticed him testing the sturdiness of the easel. That’s from stores.
It belonged to Lesnour. D’you know his work?” Lesnour?