Choices (2/3)

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 11th May 2019

Characters: Lorican
Description: Lorican tries to decide what to do about the letters
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 10, day 10 of Turn 9

*** Cedar Vale Hold, 2 days ago (cont) ***

"Dear Yulen,

You didn't come today. I waited for you by the fall, in our place, until
the light failed and I knew I'd have to go back. Did something keep you?
Did Iovrey keep you at your duties, or did Belkas give you an errand to
run? Or did you hear someone wondering where you go in the evenings?

I know there are whispers. I caught a strange look from my wife the
other day, when I'd been working at the accounts and glanced up
suddenly. And I know that when we meet by chance, out at the stables or
passing through the hall, that you don't smile at me the way you used
to, not when others are around. When I think of these moments it feels
like my throat is so tight I can't breathe. I'm not afraid of what will
happen to me. To an extent I have my position to protect me, but you do
not, and I could never forgive myself if I allowed you to come to harm.

Doubts assail me, and I can't sleep. I'm sitting up late and writing,
not caring what anyone thinks. I can't give you up, and I can't go on. I
try to plan for the future and I can't see past the next morning.

We have to talk.

Please come tomorrow.

I love you. I love you. I can't stop.

Beliron"

***

"Yulen,

I haven't seen you in days. No-one will tell me where you are. Belkas is
strange, very formal and correct. I think he's been reading my records.
He suggested today that we close the stables, that it's a waste of
resources, and focus on expanding the new mine shaft. I'm afraid I flew
into a rage with him and I'm not certain, even now, what was said.

He said something odd, later. He said we'll need the marks when we hear
from you. What does he mean?

I'm sending this with someone I trust, who's said they'll look for you.
Send me back a word to let me know you're safe. I know we'll see each
other again. I believe it completely. Send word, and I'll find a way.

Your Beliron"

***

That was the last of them.

The letters had answered one question and asked so many more. What had
happened to Yulen? Had he taken the letters and fled, hoping to make
what he could from them? Was that why 'Belkas' - Lorican guessed that
might be a son or other close relation of the holder, from the
similarity of the names - had thought they might need marks?

Or had the marks been used by the family to rid themselves of a shameful
problem, quietly and discreetly?

Until very recently, Lorican had not thought much about men who desired
other men, other than vaguely as something that happened in the Weyrs
and was no concern of his. If he'd considered it at all, it was with
disbelief that anyone would risk so much - reputation, family, even life
and limb - to indulge their passions. If he didn't feel any particular
repulsion at the idea, neither had it occurred to him to question the
customs he'd grown up with.

Coming to the Weyr had started to change that. He couldn't cast off his
own inhibitions so easily, but he had seen what it was like to live
without them.

Then there were the letters, those clumsy, heartfelt messages from a
middle-aged holder to a young man. Though Lorican didn't share Beliron's
preferences, he recognised at once the depth of feeling, the effect of a
lifetime of tight self-control suddenly thrown into disarray by a chance
meeting.

In the hands of people like Jilmon and his associates, these letters
were indeed valuable. Beliron, if he was still around, or his family
would pay a handsome reward to have them returned. Or they might be used
to extract regular sums against the threat of revealing their contents.
How they'd known about the correspondence, Lorican couldn't tell. The
most likely explanation was that the young stablehand had told them, out
of greed, fear or desperation. Or someone else in the hold had known.
The unnamed person who Beliron had thought he'd trusted?

He closed his eyes, trying not to imagine what had become of Yulen. It
was none of his business. His task was to hand over the letters, to
fulfil his side of the bargain so that his brother would be safe. If,
thereafter, they were used to torment a stranger, he was not to blame.

Aside from what he'd read, he didn't know anything about Beliron. He'd
never heard of Shadow Peak Hold; it didn't sound inviting. Perhaps, he
told himself, it was a prison mine and that was how the man had made his
fortune, had been able to afford his luxuries. He could be cruel,
greedy, selfish. He might ill-treat his workers, or his family, or both.
Maybe he'd even denounced the very behaviour he was secretly indulging in.

Lorican didn't know.

He did know his brother. Selrin wasn't perfect, but he was family. He
didn't deserve to have one foolish decision - well, several, but that
wasn't the point - ruin his life. He'd promised to take care of him.

It was very late, now, long past midnight, and the hold was quiet.
Lorican rolled up the letters again and did what he should have done
earlier. He tucked them into the bottom of his tool bag, then closed the
glowbasket and lay back on the bed, willing his exhausted, aching body
to sleep.

Last updated on the May 15th 2019

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Choices (2/3)