‘Be sure you carry a wedge of that poultice on any long laps, girl. You never know, you know, when you might need it. As I just did.’ And he grimaced, reminding Tenna that even the best runner can put a foot wrong.
While no runner carries much, the long-tailed orange sweatband runners invariably wore could be used to strap a strain or sprain. An oiled packet, no larger than the palm of a hand, had a cloth soaked in numbweed which both cleansed and eased the scratches one can acquire from time to time. Simple remedies for the most common problems. A wedge of poultice could be added to such travel gear and be well worth its weight.
Tenna had no trouble making that lap with Mallum even when he picked up the pace on the flat section.
‘Running with a pretty girl’s not hard to do,’ he told her when they took one brief pause.
She wished he didn’t make so much of her looks. They wouldn’t help her run any better and that’s what she wanted to be: a top runner.
By the time they reached Irma’s station at midday, she was not even breathing very hard. But the moment Mallum slowed, he limped slightly with his full weight on the heel.
‘Hmm. Well, I can wait out the day here with more poultice,’ he said, pulling the little wedge from one of the pockets of his belt. ‘See,’ and he displayed it to Tenna, ‘handy enough.’
She tapped her aid pocket and smiled.
Old Irma came out with a grin on her sun-dried face for them.
‘Will she do, Mallum?’ the old woman asked, handing each a cup.
‘Oh, aye, she’ll do. A credit to her Bloodline and not a bother to run with!’ Mallum said with a twinkle in his eyes.
‘I pass, do I, Mallum?’ Tenna asked, needing to have a direct answer.
‘Oh, aye,’ and he laughed, walking about and shaking his legs to get the kinks out even as she was doing. ‘No fear on that. Any hot water for m’poultice, Irm?’
‘Coming up,’ and she ducked back into her station and came out with a bowl of steaming water which she set down on the long bench that was an inevitable fixture of every station. The overhang of the roof provided a shelter from sun and rain. Most runners were obsessed with watching the traces to see who was coming and going. The long bench, its surface smoothed by generations of bums sliding across it, was placed so that it commanded a good view of the four traces linking at Irma’s.
Automatically, Tenna pulled a footstool from under the bench and held out her hand to receive Mallum’s right foot. She untied the shoe, placed the now moistened poultice on the bruise while Irma handed her a bandage to fix it in place, taking a good look at the injury in the process.
‘Nother day’ll do it. Shoulda stayed off it this mornin’, too.’
‘Not when I’d a chance to run with such a pretty girl,’ Mallum said.
‘Just like a man,’ Irma said dismissively.
Tenna felt herself blushing, although she was beginning to believe he wasn’t just teasing. No one else had ever commented on her looks.
‘It wasn’t a taxing leg, Irma. It’s level most of the way and a good surface,’ she said, grinning shyly at Mallum as she tried to divert Irma’s criticism.
‘Humph! Well, a hill run would’ve been downright foolish and it is flat this-a-way.’
‘Anything for Tenna to take back?’ Mallum asked, getting back to business, ‘to make her first round trip as a runner?’
‘Should be,’ Irma said, winking at Tenna for this informal inclusion into the ranks of Pern Runner. ‘You could eat now . . . soup’s ready and so’s the bread.’
‘Wouldn’t mind a bit myself,’ Mallum said, carefully shifting his position as if easing the heat from the poultice, since the heat probably penetrated even the toughened sole of his foot.
By the time Tenna had eaten the light meal, two runners came in, a man she didn’t know by sight on a long leg from Bitra with a pouch to go farther west and one of Irma’s sons.