Haraket found another dragon boy for Coresan, another serf from a stolen farm like Vetch.
Presumably, having found that Vetch was such a good worker, Haraket was willing to try another of the same type.
Haraket brought the replacement in one afternoon, without any fanfare, though he had taken the time to get the new boy cleaned up, kilted, and all before he brought him to the pen. With any dragon, that was a good idea; they were used to Jousters and dragon boys in their uniform kilts and kit, and dragons were creatures of habit. Even the few servants like Haraket and the slaves wore pretty much the same uniforms, which varied only in quality of materials. Presumably a dragon couldn't tell the difference between coarse linen and fine, and the similarity of costume told the dragons who 'belonged' here, and who didn't.
However, just the previous day Coresan had reacted poorly to the presence of a pretty woman friend of Coresan's Jouster, Neftat. The bright fluttering gauze of her gown, the high voice, the jangling jewelry—whatever it was had made Coresan rear up and hiss angrily, her tail giving one of those vicious lashes that Vetch had not quite managed to train her out of.
Neftat had in his turn reacted as Vetch would have wanted, shooing his lady friend outside. This was one of the only times when Neftat actually spoke to Vetch.
'Keep her company for a moment,' he'd ordered (rather than requested). The tone made Vetch grind his teeth, but he obeyed, though he had no idea how to amuse a lady. He listened to Neftat soothing his dragon with one ear, while he directed the lady's attention to the carvings on the walls, the construction of the pens, even the dragons peering over the pens with interest at them— babbling foolishly whatever came into his head in an effort to distract her.
Fortunately, Neftat finally came out and apologized to the lady. Vetch hadn't even waited to hear what he said.
But now—it looked as if his patience wasn't going to be on trial for much longer.
'Vetch, this is Fisk,' Haraket said shortly. 'He's a serf; I want him for Coresan's boy. If you can train him to take Coresan, do it.' And he left, with the two boys staring awkwardly at one another.
It was Fisk who made the first move, though. 'Ah,' he said, ducking his head in unconscious submission. 'Could be you'd give me your name?'
Vetch had to smile, then; he knew in part how Fisk must be feeling, but poor Fisk knew nothing about his would-be mentor, perhaps not even that Vetch was a serf! The hair should tell him, but Fisk might not know that only Altan serfs wore their hair long as a sign of their indentured nature. 'Vetch,' he replied. 'And I'm a serf, too.' He looked the other boy up and down; could it be that Fisk had been a farmer's boy, too? 'Well, if I'm to teach you about Coresan, what do you know about animals in general?'
'Ah. Mostly I've tended goats,' Fisk ventured, and looked up at Coresan, who looked curiously down at him. 'That be a mighty big goat…'
For a heart-stopping moment, Vetch thought the other boy was feeble-minded, but then he saw the slow grin, and realized with relief that Fisk was joking.
And it soon was apparent that Haraket had chosen well, so far as Coresan was concerned, for Fisk was not afraid of her, and had more experience with intractable creatures than Vetch ever had. For one thing, he was two years older than Vetch—and what was more, Fisk had actually been a goatherd in charge of a large number of animals, and goats could be the most stubborn and evil-minded domestic creatures ever created; he might not be very bright, but he was eminently practical, and he had a good rapport with beasts. Unlike Vetch, he hadn't had a family to lose, as he was already an orphan when the Tians came, tending the herd of goats for a surly uncle. As a consequence, life in the Jouster's compound was more than an improvement, it was an improvement without any previous loss attached. He had never really known what it was like to be free or to have a close-knit family, for his father was dead and his mother had been her brother-in-law's servant. While she loved her son, she had been able to give him nothing but her love while her brother-in-law worked her to death and bid fair to repeat his treatment with her son.
Now, with only a single, nonwandering creature to be in charge of, good treatment, and much better food, Fisk was convinced he'd fallen into a honey pot. He'd understood exactly what Vetch meant when he described Coresan's quirks and personality, and he didn't let her bully him.
More to the point, to both Vetch's and Haraket's delight, Fisk and Coresan took to each other with a great deal of mutual respect and even affection. It was nothing like the bond Vetch had with Kashet, but it was as close to that as any other dragon boy's, and closer than most.
That released Vetch from his duties to Coresan, which was a great relief. Coresan needed someone who understood her and cared about her, and Vetch's heart was given to the creature growing inside his egg and to Kashet. Haraket was overjoyed, and within the week, Vetch overheard him speaking with Ari about finding more goatherd serfs in the future to use as dragon boys.
As for Vetch—Fisk might not be anyone he could have a deep and meaningful conversation with, but he was friendly, and he was another serf, so at least now he had someone who would share a meal and a joke with him. The cold shoulders of the other dragon boys weren't so hard to take when there were two to face them instead of one alone.
Gratefully, he went back to his old chores, which, after all the work of tending Coresan, Kashet and a dragon- in-egg, seemed infinitely lighter. The growing season was well underway, and the increasing heat would surely be
