The best bull oxen we've ever had!
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Kaysea
Date Posted: 31st March 2007
Characters: Corder
Description: Corder deals with disposing of Mealybones
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 3, day 7 of Turn 4
Corder shook his head as he looked down on Mealybones, "You old thing," he sighed, "...she's gonna miss you, you know?" He didn't expect a reply; the look in the beasts' eyes was enough. Oxen were naturally slow and docile, but Mealybones had taken it a step further as a young calf.
Where others would have shied away, Mealy would come forward to nuzzle at Corder's trous knowing there would always be something in the pockets that was edible, whether it was small pieces of sweetning, to fruits wrapped in cloth, Corder _always_ carried treats around for the beasts, and Mealy _always_ checked.
Corder shook his head again; Taia wouldn't be the only one to miss this great lump when he was gone. He could still remember how excited Taia had been that first day when he had told her sternly that it was her responsibility to look after the young oxen calf.
She had nodded so solemnly, "Yes Corder, I understand, truly I do." Her hands hadn't stopped stroking the calf's neck the whole time they had been talking. She had only been young then, no more than twelce or thirteen turns old; a new apprentice - but she had understood the enormity of the responsibility she had been given, and had abided by her promise.
"I'll look after him so well, Corder," she had been adamant, "he'll be the best bull oxen we've ever had!"
And she hadn't been wrong on that score either. He had grown into a decent stud and they had had many strong studs from him too. In most fields across the land there were at least a few of his offspring.
This would be the hardest thing Taia had ever had to face. He had sent a message off to her, ordering her to make her daily report this evening to him, in the dining cavern instead of his office.
He wasn't overly fussed about the report, she had spent the day examining ovine for footrot out in one of the far pastures, but he suspected the farmer was being overcautious, and wasn't too concerned.
His main concern right now, was that Taia didn't spend the evening alone and mourning the loss of Mealy on her own. She would be better off in the dining cavern surrounded by her friends, or at least other people who would take her mind of what was about to happen; anything would be better than sitting alone in her quarters in tears.
At least Mealy wouldn't end up in the dining cavern; he could spare her thoughts on that. Besides Mealy was too old and toughened for human consumption, but the canines and flits and even the porcines, would eat well over the next few days, and what they didn't the hovering wherries would finish off. They had been up above for the last couple of hours, sensing the old beast's vulnerability.
The drudges had arrived with the cart to take what they could from the scene. Corder turned around and ordered them to bring the cart as close as possible, there was no need for anyone to strain a muscle carrying - when the cart could be brought a lot closer. Where they scared of Mealy? Surely not, most of them would know him by sight. maybe they just didn't remember him.
Corder shook himself; he knew he was only delaying the inevitable.
* * * * *
Corder stayed to oversee everything, and then made his way back to the Weyr with the last of the drudges, who were pulling the handcart. A bit of an irony when he though of it, and allowed himself a wry smile.
Carrion had already landed in the field behind him, it hadn't taken long, they had been aching to land even before Mealy had taken his last breath.
Corder had had to bite back his anger; after all he was a beasthealer and knew the wherry behaviour was nothing more than normal animal instinct -
even if he didn't really consider wherries anything more than pests - like trundlebugs but without the smell.
The one thing he was grateful to the wherries for was the fact that after they had finished in the field, there wouldn't be anything left of Mealy at all, not a scrap or trace anywhere. No reminder for Taia to stumble across in the morning when, he could guarantee, she would make a short stop at the site, to say one final goodbye.
Last updated on the April 1st 2007