Working for Lavender (4)

Writers: Aaron, Heather
Date Posted: 12th March 2021
Series: Lavender Run

Characters: Brennault, Zavek, Zaverak
Description: Zavek's father hears he has a "guest" and comes to see Brennault.
Location: Emerald Falls Hold
Date: month 8, day 22 of Turn 10

Brennault

Brennault woke again close to first light. He was used to waking with the sun. But the bed he had slept in was even more comfortable than either his bunk at the weyr or at the main waystation, so he had a hard time forcing himself to get up.

Still, get up he did. He dressed in the clean clothes he had worn after the bath. Perhaps he had awakened early enough to offer to help the cook – though he suspected she would turn him down.

No one could beat the cook up. When Brennault came down she already had a bowl of biscuits, gravy, and porcine sausage waiting on the table.

"Sleep well?" Zavek asked, as he had each morning since Brennault had been there. The farmer was already seated at the table with a generous helping of gravy ladled over his biscuits and sausage.

"Very well," Brennault answered. He smiled brightly and took a seat at the table. A man could get used to this. "And you?" He began to pile his own plate full.

In truth, Zavek had not slept well. Dreams of helping a certain young houseguest wash his "front" had kept Zavek tossing and turning most of the night.

"Just fine," he replied. "They're going to be mucking out the stable stalls today and pitching in fresh hay. You can help out there or go back to the lavender fields. I figure after your work today, you'll have paid off the price of the lavender oil."

"I wouldn't mind mixing it up," said Brennault. "I don't often have the chance to get up close to the beastly sort of runners." He grinned. The runnerbeasts were much closer to Zavek, too. He was almost sad that he would be out of excuses to stay after that day.

The beastly sort of runner was Zavek's favorite. They didn't play games, or tattle, and they were never unfaithful. Zavek preferred the company of his runners more than almost any human.

--

As they left the main house and struck across the yard, they were brought up short by the sound of hooves. A single rider appeared on the horizon, headed their way at a casual, but quick pace.

"My father," Zavek murmured, his mouth tightening. "Why don't you go ahead to the stables. I'll be along in a bit," he said to Brennault.

Brennault nodded, giving Zavek what he hoped was a reassuring glance. He understood. There was to be no innuendo, with or without plausible deniability, around this man. If he had occasion to speak to Brennault, anyway, he would be a perfect example of holder propriety.

"I'll talk to the stablehands about getting started helping," he said and continued on.

Zavek didn't reply, but kept his eyes shaded by his hat, pulled down low over his eyes as he waited for his father.

"Zavek," Zaverak boomed, his long beard parting as he spoke. "How goes production?" he asked, jumping down from his mount like a young man, which he was. At a little over fifty, Zaverak was still in fit shape, having had Zavek in his early twenties.

"Good," Zavek offered his father a polite small, hands resting on his trim hips as he gestured with his chin toward the lavender fields. "We just pulled in a good harvest yesterday and they're out for more today."

"Excellent, excellent." His father boomed again, clapping Zavek on the back with a broad hand.

"I heard you're housing a runner here?" Zaverak said, getting right to the point of his visit.

"That's right."

"Good. Where is he? I have something that he can take with him when he leaves." The older man turned and retrieved a small package from his saddlebag.

A trickle of relief sliced through Zavek. A package. That was all.

"He's in the stables working. He came wanting a bottle of lavender oil, so he's working it off." Zavek explained as he led the way to the stables.

"Hard work builds character," Zaverak grunted.

"Brennault?" Zavek, gestured for the young man to come over. "This is my father, Zaverak."

Zaverak nodded, needing no more greeting than that. "Take this back to the Weyr, would you?" He pressed a couple of marks into Brennault's palm.

Brennault took the package and pocketed the marks with practiced ease.

"Of course, sir," he said with a polite nod. It would take a good little while, of course. But that was the way with hiring runners. He was always surprised at how fast news traveled at Holds. He was so used to keeping things to himself and minding his own business that it often slipped his mind that everyone else talked about everything they saw or heard.

"Good, lad," Zaverak said, already dismissing Brennault as he turned.

Zavek followed his father out of the stables and over to the corral where Fire Dancer pranced.

"Having any luck with him?" Zaverak asked, folding his arms over the top of the corral's fence.

Nearly his father's twin in height and size, Zavek mirrored the gesture as he too looked at the runnerbeast. "We're getting there. He let me touch him yesterday. He'll be ready for the Lord Holder before you know it."

"See to it that he is," Zaverak grunted. He would never outright compliment his son, but there was a hint of pride in his gruff voice.

Since Zavek lived on his father's land, and Zaverak wasn't about to completely deed it over to him, a percentage of Zavek's profits went to Zaverak and the main farmhold.

"I need to get back. A suitor is coming to meet your sister tonight."

Zavek winced at the thought of his youngest sister, Laverlli, at the tender age of fifteen, having to meet some old codger who was interested in a young, malleable wife.

"I'll send you word when Fire Dancer is ready." Zavek assured his father, walking him back to his docile gelding.

"You do that, and get that runner," he jutted his chin toward the stable where Brennault, "out of here soon. I need that package to get to the Weyr." And he didn't trust a flit to do it.

"Yes, sir," Zavek bit out between teeth clenched in a polite smile.

With that, the older farmer departed, leaving Zavek standing in a swirl of dust kicked up by the runner's hooves.

Brennault could not help but watch as the two interacted, though he did his best to stand where it was not obvious that was what he was doing. He waited long enough to be sure Zaverak would not see him leaving the stable and then walked out to join Zavek.

"Not much of a social visit, was it?"

With his father gone, Zavek's grin had returned, and his shoulders relaxed as he exhaled a little sigh. "No. My father is not a very social man. It didn't take him long to find out that a guest was here, did it?" Even though he had suspected it, it still bothered Zavek to know that someone who worked for him was watching him and reporting everything to Zaverak.

Brennault, too, smiled and relaxed when he saw Zavek's relief.

"It didn't," he agreed. "And they say word travels fast at the Weyr! But it worked out for me, didn't it?" He lifted the package. "I suppose I should go put it with my bag, if you don't mind giving me a moment."

"Sure," Zavek nodded, studying Brennault's retreating figure as the runner walked to the house. Brennault had acted discreetly and acted like any holder would have when he was talking to Zaverak. His behavior certainly allowed Zavek the ability to imagine...

Last updated on the July 21st 2021

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Working for Lavender (4)