Zirana explained, smiling as she poured it on. “Now meat.” And Zirana scooped in a cup of thinly sliced wherry meat.
The aroma arose mouth-wateringly from the bowl and Fiona’s stomach gave a lurch, suddenly reminding her that she’d missed lunch. Zirana must have noticed, for she said, “Cooks always hungry, never eat.” She patted her flat belly. “Stay thin!”
Under Zirana’s guidance, Fiona constructed three more dishes, then the cook surprised her by saying, “Now you make your own.”
“What?” Fiona cried in surprise.
“Make your own,” Zirana repeated loudly.
“You’re letting her make her own, Zirana?” Tannaz called from her cooking island. She told Fiona, “You should be honored. She wouldn’t let
“That’s because you’re Igen,” Zirana retorted, shaking her head. “Igen only think thick food.”
Fiona let the conversation wash over her as she looked at the ingredients waiting to be cooked. Garlic, lots of garlic, she decided, throwing it in the sizzling bowl and stirring it quickly. She found a pepper mill and ground it over the garlic, tossing in only a drop of the soya sauce before stirring more. The smell wafted up enticingly. Pernoom, Fiona decided, looking among the various edible Pernese fungi for the one she wanted the most. It had a special flavor, piquant, and unlike any other flavor, hearty yet fresh. There! Sagooms. She only needed a few and that was just as well as they were always hard to find. She shredded three and poured them on. The smell changed again and she looked for some vinegar. Yes. Then she was ready for the vegetables. Broccoli, carrots, onions. She added beef and, when it was brown, more soya sauce. A bit more pepper, she decided.
“Done?” Zirana asked, intruding into Fiona’s reverie. She didn’t wait for Fiona’s answer but spooned up a small piece of meat and tasted it. “Good,” she declared. “You serve this to Weyrleader.”
“Me?”
“Weyrleader and wingleaders,” Tannaz called across from the hall. “It’s a Fort tradition.”
Fiona’s eyes widened and she looked accusingly at Tannaz. Tannaz understood the look perfectly and laughed. “Not telling you is also a Fort tradition.”
“Weyrwomen must cook,” Zirana said in agreement.
“It smells good,” Ellor added. “Save us some, will you?”
“I’ve written down the recipe,” Kentai said from an out-of-the-way corner, holding up a slate. “You can make more later.”
“It’s never the same,” Fiona said, surprised to hear Zirana echoing the words in unison with her. The older cook turned to her and said approvingly, “You’ll do.”
Fiona beamed with pride. She’d never been allowed to cook at Fort Hold , even though she’d been in the kitchens since before she could remember. And here, on her first try, she was serving the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman.
She felt awkward that evening as she helped to carry the warming plates to the Weyrleader’s table. She was suddenly aware of the amount of noise in the cavern and looked around in surprise to see that most of the tables were full, many of them with women and children. Harper Kentai nodded to her as he made his way to a raised platform set between the two openings to the Bowl. He was busy directing a group of youngsters up onto the stage.
“The children often practice and perform here,” Tannaz told her. “Is it different at Fort Hold with the Harper Hall so close?”
Fiona smiled and shook her head. “I suspect we have more performances than the Weyr,” she said. “Not only do we host the Hold’s performances, but also those of the Hall itself.”
“So you get a double dose, do you?” Ellor asked. “Is that a good thing or bad?”
Fiona’s eyes twinkled. “As a Lady Holder, I am required to say that it was always a good thing.”
“And when you’re not a Lady Holder, what would you say?” Tannaz asked.
“I would say that each performance is different,” Fiona replied diplomatically.
“Some are better than others,” Tannaz guessed.
“A Lady Holder would never say that,” Fiona replied, pretending to be shocked. The others laughed.
“I suspect tonight will be good, even for those of us who aren’t Lady Holders,” Tannaz said.
“I’m not a Lady Holder, I’m a Weyrwoman,” Fiona said, partly to remind herself.
“The distinctions are not all that great,” a new voice chimed in from behind her. Fiona turned to greet Cisca, who waved her motion aside, saying, “I just wanted to see if Zirana and Ellor weren’t overworking you.” She glanced at Tannaz and added, “I heard you’d already been put in harness by this one.”
“She did well,” Tannaz said, not sounding at all contrite.
Cisca cocked her head to one side thoughtfully but said nothing. The gesture must have had some meaning to Tannaz, for the other Weyrwoman blushed and shook her head in silent mirth. Cisca grinned then.
“I take it you’ve suffered no lasting harm,” she said, turning back to Fiona.
“They let me cook!” Fiona exclaimed.
Cisca looked really surprised and gave Zirana and Ellor looks. “Really?”
“Not me,” Ellor said, tossing her head in Zirana’s direction.
Cisca’s eyes widened. “
“She grew up in Neesa’s kitchen,” Zirana replied. “She learned.”
“But they wouldn’t ever let me — ” Fiona began.
“You watched, didn’t you?” Tannaz pointed out.
“Well, yes,” Fiona admitted. “But — ”
“You learned,” Zirana told her. She pointed to the bowl of food that Fiona had prepared, still steaming on the warming trays. “She’ll serve you tonight.”
“Excellent!” Cisca declared. “I’m looking forward to it.”
When the time came, however, Fiona found herself far more nervous than she’d ever remembered. What if no one liked it?
“Take,” Zirana told her tersely, pointing to the serving bowl into which she’d heaped the greater portion of Fiona’s dish. Repressing a gulp, Fiona lifted the dish by the handles and stopped abruptly as Zirana caught hold of her shoulder, pulled her around, and clapped a lid on top of the dish. “K’lior second, Cisca first,” she commanded.
Swallowing nervously, Fiona nodded and started carefully toward the table at which the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman were seated. Their table was directly in front of the stage that Kentai and the youngsters had occupied.
Fiona felt as though all eyes were on her and for a moment she stumbled and felt an instant of blind panic as she envisioned falling down, the beautifully decorated serving dish shattering, and her food splattering all across the clean stone floor.
She took a deep breath to steady herself, raised her head again to look to the Weyrleader’s table, and walked with head high and shoulders back, as befitted the daughter of Fort Hold ’s Lord.
Cisca smiled as Fiona approached her left shoulder and lifted the lid, allowing the steam to rise toward her.
“Ahh! What is this?” she asked theatrically, her eyes twinkling up at Fiona.
“A dish I prepared for you and the Weyrleader,” Fiona replied, glancing to K’lior, who returned her look gravely. Cisca took the serving spoon and helped herself to a good portion. She took a quick bite and closed her eyes to help her savor the tastes. She opened them again and smiled at Fiona. “That’s wonderful.”
Fiona beamed with pleasure and, following Cisca’s gesture, moved on to K’lior. The Weyrleader helped himself to a larger portion, added some rice, and took a small taste.
“Hmm, ginger beef!” He gestured to the dish and the table, saying, “Set it down and let others try it.”
Fiona put the serving dish down on the warming tray that ran the length of the table and turned to go back to Zirana at the cooking fires.
“Sit here, Fiona,” Tannaz said, approaching from behind her and indicating the seat next to Cisca. Taking the seat on Fiona’s other side, she grinned and gestured to the serving dish. “Why don’t you try the beef? I hear it’s
