Open Sheets in the wind

[Dove Brown]

90 Spring 517

The sun hammered down on Dove's shoulders, making her glad that she'd worn her hat for this. Dust rose from the too dry ground as she trotted along the paths and wound her way across the headlands to find the field that she had been assiged to today. The first batch of linen covers had arrived, along with poles to support them and she was one of those sent across the field to start putting them up over the most affected crops. Even in the fields that were doing "better" she could see that the crops were struggling. She hoped that when they got the shelters of cloth set up that it would help, but she wasn't entirely sure why, or how it would work, only that those with more experience and skill thought that it might help somehow. Perhaps, she mused as she drew close to her destination, the shelter would protect the crops like her hat protected her from the sun? Not much use against the heat, but not getting hammered into submission by Syna's rays either?

Farmer Driscoll had, she had heard from older farmers, put out a call for anyone and everyone to come and help with saving the crops, if they could be saved at all. That meant that she was required here, as she worked as a farmer, but there were also others here that wouldn't usually be this close to the fields, or even to this kind of mundane hard work, Dove thought, her eyes flickering to the knights scattered among the crowd. She hastily lookedaway before any of them could take offence and in her search for something else to gaze at she spotted the package of cloth and poles lying on the edge of the field. The oldest farmer present in the field took charge even over the knights, handing out cloth, hammers, and poles without regard for rank and directing people where to make their rows and clusters and start hammering the poles into the hard ground in preparation for tying the cloth to them. Dove took the pole and hammer she was handed and ran along the headland to the far corner with the pole jouncing against her shoulder.

[Samuel Longwell]

“Keep up lad.” Samuel said, glancing back at the dawdling squire. Their was a note of exasperation in his voice that wasn't quite intentional, he was already sweaty and tired and the knight's patience was wearing thin.

Both men had their arms full, carrying the poles that were needed to help protect the crops. Samuel had volunteered to help out, knowing that the crops were failing and that if a true famine struck there would be serious problems. The squire, however, was not such a willing helper. The knight had noticed the younger man lounging in the sun, and had decided that some hard work would do him good. Samuel was now regretting the decision to press him into it. Noticing the squire falling behind once again, the knight finally snapped.

“Squire Grayson,” Samuel growled, “if I have to stop one more time I will make sure you regret it. Do I make myself clear?” The words were accompanied by a glare, ensuring the younger man knew that he was serious.

“Yes sir.” Squire Grayson said, gulping.

Samuel shook his head, then continued to plod onwards. They were nearing the group of volunteers now, none of which looked quite as worn out as he felt. The sweat trickled down his back, an uncomfortable feeling that added to his annoyance. He forced his legs to keep moving, step after painful step, until he could place the poles down. The knight sighed, his arms were sore but the work was far from over. The unnatural heat seemed to make every task more difficult, even those that the knight would usually handle with ease.

I'm glad I didn't wear my armour for this, Samuel thought. This would be utterly unbearable. The knight listened as the instructions were given, looping the hammer into his belt and picking up a pair of poles. Carrying two will be a nice relief compared to carrying a whole bundle.

“Right down to the other end of the field, of course.” the knight grumbled to himself. Samuel glanced back as Squire Grayson was assigned to a separate area of the field, which brought a small smile to the knight's face. He began to walk between the rows of crops, then a girl jogged past. The knight shook his head in amazement, how could she do that in such heat? It seemed like she was heading to a similar part of the field as he was, so he hoped that she wouldn't have tired herself out before she'd even started.

Many thanks to Prophet for the box code.

[Dove Brown]

Dove set down her pole when she reached the far corner and stood hands-on-knees for a moment to recover her breath. It was harder to run in this heat, but it wasn't even noon yet, and if the last few days were anything to go by, it was only going to get hotter as the day went on. She straightened, pushed the sleeves of her light brown shirt higher up her wiry arms, and looked back along the field.

She saw a man coming towards her corner. He moved as if he was used to armour, though he wasn't wearing any, and he was sweating like a hard-worked horse. As he closed on her, she saw he was older than squires usually were, and much larger than she was. Most likely a full knight. Just her luck to have to interact with one, and this one was a stranger to her. She dropped her gaze hurriedly, scooped up her pole and found what she thought was the corner to start hammering it in. She tapped one end of it against the painfully dry, cracking, ground, and felt the jarring bounce in her hand. The ground was hard as well as dry and the pole was about her own height. Getting the leverage to hammer it in was going to be a pain... she studied the ground more closely, looking for a crack in the right spot that she could use to get it started.

Footsteps startled her head up. "Ser..." she murmured, in greeting to the presumed knight, and dropped her gaze again, tugging her hat lower to shade the wariness in her eyes and the thin scar across her jaw. Was he going to take charge or, like the other knights, was he right now likely to defer to a farmer? She couldn't tell, and dared not ask, even though old fears and newer anger stirred in her guts at his closeness.

[Samuel Longwell]

As Samuel continued towards the area he had been assigned to, the girl knocked her pole against the earth. The way she examined the ground seemed to imply that the task they had been set was not going to be easy. As the knight approached she looked up abruptly and greeted him quietly, then she turned back to the task in front of her. Samuel did not notice her wariness, simply assuming her actions were a sign of deference rather than fear. He grunted a greeting in reply, the heat robbing him of his usual friendliness.

Dropping a pole to the side, Samuel paced out half a dozen steps from where the girl was working on her pole. This would be where he should get to work on hammering the support into the ground. He placed the pole against the hard earth and struck the end with his hammer experimentally. The ground did not yield so he struck once more, harder this time. Again, the ground did not budge. The knight huffed, then bent down to examine the area around him.

There were a multitude of tiny cracks in the soil, which gave the knight an idea. He pulled out his hunting knife and started to dig away at one of the holes. It was slow progress due to the absolute lack of water in the ground, so once Samuel had widened the crack in the earth a sufficient amount he was sweating profusely once more. He took a short break, sipping from his water skin. He grimaced, the liquid was already warm.

“Damn it's hot.” Samuel said. “Although I guess that's why we're out here huh? Making the shelters.” The knight paused, he honestly thought the whole idea was a bit ridiculous. However, he trusted that those in charge knew what they were doing. “You ever seen anything like this being done for crops before lass?”

Many thanks to Prophet for the box code.

[Dove Brown]

The man grunted a greeting, sounding so much like her father that Dove had to bite down on her lip to keep herself focused on the here and now. She watched from the corner of her eye as the man tried and failed to hammer the pole directly into the ground. If he couldn't with all a knight's height and muscle behind it, she doubted that she had any chance. He didn't persist at it though, but began to chip himself a hole with his knife. Dove considered for a moment, then took out her old belt knife, set the point in a crack, and tapped the pommel with the hammer as if the knife was a chisel. It went in a little, but not much. It was clearly going to take a lot of time and effort to get the poles in...she reached out to touch the heat-wilting crops with an almost gentle finger. "We'll get them done," she murmured, "and then you'll have some respite. I hope it'll be enough." It was going to be a lean year anyway, and somehow she doubted that it would be the knights and squires who went hungry first.

"It's almost summer, ser," she said in response to his statement of the obvious. Always be polite to knights, ran the ingrained instructions in her head. Don't lie to them, they have ways to know, and they don't like it... Always call them ser or sera... "But yes, the heat came early this year." She shrugged a little and spread her hands with the acceptance of one who knows they are going to be out in the weather all day every day, no matter what it is. The scar on her right forearm flickered pale against her weathered skin as she moved. "At least we didn't get a frost to kill all the tree blossom." She swallowed and made herself look at him as he sipped from his waterskin. Ignoring him would be rude, as would avoiding his questions. "No, ser, I've not seen it before, but I've only been working as a farmer in my own right for a few years. But shade and hats help people cope with the sun, so I guess they help plants too." Her gaze flickered sideways to his other pole. The sooner they got them all in, the sooner they could start getting the cloth in place.

[Samuel Longwell]

“Aye, you're right. But this is like midsummer heat, not the kind of weather I'd choose for toiling away like this.” Samuel said. “Not our job to complain though, that won't help the crops.” He took another drink, making sure to take only a small mouthful. He knew he had to make the water last, it would be a while before he got a refill.

Listening to the girl's reasoning the knight nodded. She made good points, hopefully the shade would do enough to sustain the plants till it was time to harvest them. Sighing softly, Samuel put down his water skin. He wiped the drying sweat off his face and picked up his pole. The rest had been far too short, but it would have to do for now.

“Time to get back to work then.” the knight said. “I'm Ser Samuel Longwell by the way, what's your name lass?” He stepped over to the hole he had made, time to see if it had been worth the effort in digging out.

The pole fit inside the hole but wobbled around too much when Samuel let go of it, so he pulled out his hammer once more. A few firm strikes pushed the pole deeper into the earth, securing it in position. It would now fulfil its role adequately, so the knight decided to get to work on the next pole.

He did not bother trying to drive it into the earth straight away, he simply knelt down and started digging away once more. Once more the sweat began to bead on his forehead as he scraped away with his imperfect tool. The sound of approaching footsteps made the knight look up. A few volunteers were carrying over more poles and one had a bundle of cloth in his arms.

Many thanks to Prophet for the box code.

[Dove Brown]

Dove shrugged, and covered her eye roll by scrambling to her feet and jamming her pole into the hole she chipped out for it. "Must be nice to have a choice about it, ser," she said as politely as she could manage. She had worked outside through midsummer heat at some task or other every year she could remember. The pole wedged itself slightly crookedly between two of the hole's sides, and she sighed and fished out her own waterskin. She rationed herself to a mouthful of warm, leathery-tasting water, then stoppered it again and put it away. "I'm Dove, ser. Dove Brown. I'm a farmer."

She looked up as several other folk arrived with more poles and the all important cloth - all taller than she was, of course - and watched for a moment as they spread out to begin hammering their poles into the ground. "We've been having to dig holes for the poles," she pointed out, unsure how many of these where civilian and how many in the knighthood, "since the ground's so hard." She didn't recognise any of them as farmers she knew, but that didn't mean they weren't, and instinctively, she sided with the plants. Not making the newcomers figure it out for themselves would mean less time wasted. "If you all spread out down the line and pair up, we can get the poles in place evenly and start getting the covers up as soon as possible."

She flicked a wary glance sideways at the knight as the newcomers followed her suggestion - because he was a knight she hadn't seen before and that meant he might be offended by someone else, someone lesser, taking over. She had no way to know, and while some of her encounters with squires had gone well, some had very definitely not - and in any case knights had much more power than squires. She glanced again at the expanded row, then grabbed one of the new poles for herself and headed for the end of the line.

[Samuel Longwell]

Samuel glanced at the girl in surprise at her slightly barbed reply, but did not respond. She's right, he thought, I do have a choice about it. She, on the other hand, has to be out here just to get by. As the other workers arrived, Dove took command. Most followed her instructions, but a couple of the older men looked like they were about to protest.

“Just do as she says.” Samuel said with a sigh. “Is there really anything wrong with what she's asked you to do?” The two men looked at each other, then decided that arguing with a knight wasn't worth it. They set to their assigned task, grumbling under their breath as they did so.

When he turned back to his hole, one person had already found it and was in the process of placing a pole within it. Samuel shook his head, then moved to pick up a pole from those that had been brought. He reminded himself that they were all working together towards the same aim. He just about managed to avoid saying something to the man who was now taking advantage of his hard work. He contented himself with treating the man's back with a foul glare, which although didn't solve any problems it made him feel a bit better.

By the time Samuel had another pole, all the others had paired up. Apart from Dove. The knight sighed, it seemed that the girl didn't have a very good impression of him. Or perhaps it was just knights in general that she disliked. Either way, it seemed that for now they would need to work together. Samuel considered bringing it up, but he held his peace. Confronting the girl was unlikely to improve her impression of him.

The knight plodded along the rows of plants, stooping down opposite the farmer. More digging, he thought, just great. The next few chimes were spent making another hole, with Samuel wishing that he had a better digging implement. Finally he'd cleared enough dirt for the pole to fit. Time to slot it in then they could get to work on the cloth.

Many thanks to Prophet for the box code.

[Dove Brown]

Dove was startled when the knight not only followed her suggestions but backed her up when some of the men arriving reacted to the information she offered with an instinctive protest and resistance. His words got a grumbled obedience, at least, although they clearly weren't happy about it. It was more than Dove would have gotten alone, more even than she would have tried for. Her head jerked up a little as she looked at him and tried a cautious smile in thanks. She caught the tail end of his glare and flinched even though it wasn't aimed at her, her hand rising to cover the scar on her jaw before she thought how that might look from the outside.

She pulled her hand down from her face again as he came to work opposite her, and focused on getting her hole dug for the next pole. She looked up once and said quietly, "Thank you," with the slightest of head jerks towards the grumblers to indicate what the thanks were for. That brought them into her view again though as one of them tried to drop a pole down a hole that had been sloppily made - too wide and too shallow - and then let go as if the hole would hold it. It didn't. The pole stood for about a breath then, just as the man turned away from it, it fell ponderously, smacking against the man's shoulders and butt on the way down. Dove opened her mouth to call a warning, but it was too late, and the fury on his face when he turned made her cram her wrist into her mouth before she either laughed or cried out in fear. She hung onto her own pole with her other hand, making sure it was rammed firmly into the ground before she let go, then ducked out of the line to start unfolding the first of the cloth sheets. It wasn't as if the man was going to listen to her, he'd already proved that when it took the knight backing her up to have him accept her words.

[Samuel Longwell]

The knight looked up at Dove's words of gratitude, smiling in return. “You're welcome lass,” he replied, “you had a good idea. No reason for them to have a problem with it.” Samuel always got annoyed with people who would protest getting instructions from someone who wasn't in command. He couldn't understand why people couldn't just listen to reason, no matter who it came from. He glanced over to the men he had spoken to, just in time to see the pole strike the man's behind as it fell. The knight turned back to Dove with a smirk, who also seemed to be trying not to laugh.

Samuel's eyes danced with amusement as he picked up his pole and pushed it into the hole he had dug out. He struck it twice with his hammer, then gave it a wiggle to see if it was secure. Satisfied, he followed the young farmer as she moved to start unfolding the sheets. He was glad the hardest work was over. The knight crouched down by the cloth, wiping the sweat from his head as he did so. He looked over the material, a variety of light colours supposedly from different tailors. He hoped this would work, the crops needed help if they were going to make it to harvest time.

Several others had also finished with their poles, but were just standing around. Samuel gestured them over. They shuffled over to him slowly, the heat sapping any potential enthusiasm for the job. The knight didn't blame them, he just wanted the job to be over so he move back inside out of the scorching sunlight.

“Get into groups of four and pick up a piece of cloth. You'll need one person on each corner to fasten it to the pole.” Samuel said. With these words the knight picked two of them to help him and Dove. He took a corner of the cloth, helping stretch it out. “Over to the far end again.”

Many thanks to Prophet for the box code.