Labor's Love Lost 3

Ganno's little first aid shed saw a lot of activity when the first batches of wine were being pressed. The Slaves were having altogether too much fun with the grape presses, and the Spheer leaves were apt to spit their juices directly into eyes if not careful. Spheer plants, Sedil noted, were colorful and useful, but hard to grow. Certainly in the climates he'd been used to for much of his life they were, but here in Bohata, near the coast? The yellowy-orange plants took every moment in the sun and soaked up what tasted like liquid sunsets into their leaves. When pressed, their juice was tart but thick, and sweetened properly was a fine addition to any meal.

Sedil wondered how this would fit in with the big dark-colored grapes that slowly matured in the vinyard. Would the flavors cancel out? Would the grapes be too sweet or not sweet enough?

The ground would decide those things. He'd only been involved in one vinyard before, but that one gave off a weak harvest and mediocre wine. This one, he had a strong feeling about. The High Mistress and her husband Master Voher must have had some kind of psionic power that led them here – the plants took root easily and firmly, grew well if slowly in the summer sun. Something deeply ingrained in Sedil's genetic heritage told him that yes, the ground here was perfect. It would support this vinyard for generations to come.

And he was very glad to be part of its beginnings. If Ganno would remain on, as she said she would wish to, his life would be more satisfying than ever. Ganno would spend one more year working at the recuperation clinic, a year away from Sedil that was almost torture for him. When the fourth harvest of wines came, Ganno returned and stayed.

In the early part of 1692, they married in a big ceremony on the hillside. No one could doubt that Ganno made Sedil complete. His smile when she was near was proof enough of that. He could forget for a moment that he was still horribly marked with scars. He could forget the twinge in his spine when he tried to wave his tail. By this time any of the Slaves or Bayaran on the Hold had gotten used to Sedil's appearance. It was only when visitors came that he became shy and reclusive, hiding in the darks of the big house as guests came and went.

They all enjoyed the wines. There were some barrels which would remain untouched for some time. Bottle by bottle, each portion of the mixed juice wines were parceled out. Each harvest, the prices for the bottles grew higher… Competition by nearby Owners and Suzerain led to bidding wars for the wine. It was that good, Sedil thought. He was apt to sample the early bottles, enjoying the fresh taste and smooth texture. Ganno was more fond of the older, more aged bottles. They could have their portion of any they wished, there was enough to go around on the Hold.

Though life was generally good, there was one aspect of Sedil and Ganno's life that proved a bit annoying. They had for years wanted a child, and were rewarded with one pregnancy – and one miscarriage. Ganno almost didn't want to try again.

“I could try to wine and dine you,” Sedil said with a grin, “but you've had your fill of wine, and the food here isn't all that special any more…”

“It's just fine,” Ganno said, trying to put herself into a good mood that evening. “I feel like enjoying the stars, would you like to walk with me?”

Under the two spots of moonlight, and below the scattering of stars, Sedil followed Ganno to a secluded area that overlooked a vista belonging to the High Mistress. There, they made love, almost a desperate attempt to cling to hope. There and then, Sedil would recall later with the help of his odd area-reading power, was when their child was concieved.

Though Ganno's labor lasted a little longer than the Master Healer expected, she came out of it smiling and filled with energy. Though it would be their only chance, as Ganno's prospects of ever concieving again had dwindled, that hardly mattered when their daughter emerged into the world.

Galnos was her name, and she held her tiny fist into the air, bopping it against her father's fire-wrinkled nose. When she poked him in the eye all he could do was laugh. Over the years he'd gotten used to the nerves being shuffled around so much, so when her hand dwelled on his cheek it felt as though it were over his eye and near his chin at the same time. But it was the single most wonderful feeling he'd ever had.

Oddly enough even Ganno was surprised to see that her child had a tail – because Sedil's had been amputated before she ever was assigned to him, she knew that he'd had one, but this was the living proof. It lay curled near Galnos' vibrant blue buttock, occasionally trembling. Master Healer Rumar pronounced the child absolutely fit, and speculated, “she'll have some powers, as you do, Sedil. I wonder what they will be…”

“It's too expensive to have testing done while they're so young,” Sedil commented, and cast his wife a smiling glance. They'd looked into it while she was still pregnant, but the cost of having an exam and chart drawn up was enormous. When she turned ten or twelve, perhaps, the cost was negligable – it was required in most Areas to test for any mutations or psionics. She wouldn't have anything that might allow her to retitle to Animal Mistress or anything, but Sedil had also been looking into his family line a bit. What he found gave him some encouragement, and some distress. So many Slaves, mixed with so many Holders… What an odd history he had. Ganno's family was few and far between, and had with only a couple exceptions been born into Free Worker status for as long as they could recall.

Their child would grow into her work, quickly.

Galnos swayed in the light breeze, smelling the perfume of the Spheer plants nearby on the upper hill as it passed the vines. With a smile on her face, dotted where she had dimples and her father's originally-handsome chin with a light seafoam color over the bright blue, Galnos mentally studied the land. At her whim, she felt the touch of freshly planted grape cuttings, as well as the experienced and well-seasoned vetran plants which would soon be pulled in favor of their younger offspring. She also sensed where the few weeds were growing – and promptly walked toward them to pull them up.

She went back to her gentle swaying and broad smiling face, a moment later. Just a moment after that though, a heavy voice rang over the row of vines.

“Hey! No lounging about on the job!” That caused several Bayaran to spring up from their almost-hidden spaces below the latticework of the vine row, and bolt back to a furious paced weeding.

But laughter met their ears next, when Galnos spun on the young man – eight years her junior – and chided him, “I think I have some seniority here, Vot, I get to goof off when I feel like it.”

The Bayaran, newly transferred to the vinyard, both muttered at each other loudly enough that the young woman might ‘overhear' and get the message, “but that's the High Mistress' son! She's back talking to the Master!” And yet she seemed oblivious!

Instead of worrying whether her Bond payments might be adjusted for this outrage, Galnos approached the tall, yellow-green skinned man and stuck her tongue out at him. He nearly collapsed laughing, on the other side of the lattice fencing.

She was positive that the emotion she read from him was akin to scolding with a grin – as though he could tell her without speaking that needlessly taunting the Bayaran into thinking that they were next on his shit list wasn't a nice thing to do.

“It's not nice at all, I know,” she said aloud, “but I'm in charge of the planting here and mother and father will hardly fault me if I'm being courted by a Master like yourself, Vot.”

Since they were both fairly young – Vot was barely sixteen and Galnos in her early twenties – they both seemed to feel they had the whole world, the whole future ahead of them. They extended that simple joy to nearly everyone and every thing around them. If Galnos enjoyed a few pranks at the Bayaran's expense, that was all right with Vot, as he'd be inheriting their payments some day if they didn't pay up.

He took Galnos' hand, and they reviewed the progress on the grounds made that day. Eventually they wandered out to the covered bridge by the road into the estate, and sat below its comfortable shade.

“Your father is going to retire this season,” Vot said, “all that money he's been setting aside has got him a nice place just past ours. Are you going to want to settle there too some day?”

“Oh I'm perfectly happy paying for my place here,” Galnos slyly stated. “Maybe to eventually retire on, some day, but not until I'm ready to quit working the fields. And I think,” she glanced at the tips of the trees that framed the vinyard and its borders, “that will not be for a long time to come.”

Vot leaned back, and Galnos pressed up against him, they enjoyed each other's company since childhood, no one disapproved of it even though others in Vot's mother's status would have. “But what about how good you are with the plants? I mean, it's definitely more than just a little skill with plants. You can sense me, and I can feel you.”

“So?” Galnos asked, shrugging gently.

“Well…. doesn't it bother you that my folks are just paying you as you go? You don't… have anything of your own, except that awful music collection and your silly stuffed toys…”

“They are not silly and awful!” She said, swatting at him. “You bought me most of the music, and you've hoarded my toys in your rooms ever since you could walk away with them!” She giggled, “grabby hands!”

“Selfish!” He retorted, it was an old old argument they always shared a good laugh about.

“But no,” Galnos finally replied, “no I'm perfectly happy to work for pay and have the option of just … well, not leaving because I don't think I could ever imagine myself leaving here. But to be able to just choose my own path. I like that feeling. Just like I enjoy working with your folks – they're really good to my family, they've always treated us like relatives instead of just Workers passing through.”

“Well it is fairly unusual isn't it?” Vot said, “it's usually Slaves doing this kind of work, not FreeWorkers like you. Plus it costs more to find a tuned Slave, than it did to have you what, born on the estate grounds?” He shook his head, grassy green hair picking up dry leaves as he did so. He had his father's amazingly metallic golden eyes, which turned to gaze at Galnos again. “You're quite a find, really.”

“Well so are you,” Galnos replied, and hugged him. They slept through the rest of the warm afternoon.

“It's hardly a surprise to me,” High Mistress Tat said, smiling and bouncing the baby on her lap before returning him to his mother. “You and Vot were practically attached the moment he popped out…”

“So you're not – you don't - ” Galnos said, pulling her violet hair back. It had grown long in her few months' absence from the vinyard, a trip she took to avoid the High Mistress because they worried she would be furious.

“I hardly disapprove, Galnos,” she smiled. She was growing older, and sadly her husband the Master Voher had passed away not long before. “I do wish that you'd remained here, I could have arranged for help.”

“Well, you know… I don't assume those kinds of things.”

“You're such a ‘worker at heart,” Tat said lightly. “You will always be welcome here, provided you are still interested in working the vinyard!”

Though still very young, at thirty five, Galnos knew that she should take advantage of what appeared to be a fine true fertility. Vot and she had shared their intimacy for years before she became pregnant, but had rarely spoken of marriage or inheritances. This time though, they really did need to address the issue. Because High Mistress Tat was married to only one man and for most of her life, she had been instilled with a fairly common Membayar attitude about marriage and family life. One was indeed meant to marry and then have children, to grow old together, and to eventually be laid to rest together on land that had been in their family. That was the way of things. Vot shared it, but he was young and impulsive.

Galnos wasn't quite sure what to think, though. All she knew was that her teal colored yellow-spotted boy had Vot's metallic bronzey eyes, and her violet hair, and he was the prize that most women could only dream of. He had a thin tail, but also she noticed early on that Gelavghel winced when he was in the sunlight. He was sensitive to the light in his skin, probably an inheritance from Vot's oddly bumpy textured skin. Galnos had never even noticed the bumps, she was used to her father's scarred and twisty textured skin. It was never ugly to her, she was merely intrigued.

The High Mistress asked to be alone with her son for a while, so Galnos exited with the baby and wished that she couldn't overhear emotions. Though the woman was very civil and certainly telling Galnos the truth, who could lie to an empath? She also was a bit miffed at her son, who hadn't told her they were expecting. No anger, just a bit of jealousy – keeping a baby a secret!

Eventually the secret was out, and everyone got to fawn over Gelavghel. There was no shortage of nanas or sitters, and while Galnos got back to her first love – her vinyard and cuttings – her second managed to set out a proposal. When their son was eight, they married. And even though that could bring Galnos into Holdings, she refused to retitle.

She had enough money, apparently, to buy out portions of the vinyard itself. Yet, she had no desire to do so. What she wanted was to shower her child with nicer things. He grew up in the comforts of the estate, as she had. The difference though, was that Galnos' stubborn refusal to retitle also meant that Gelavghel would not Inherit any Lands.

Those lands proved to be stunningly fertile, and continued to blossom with the sharp leaved grapes and the juicy Spheer plants. Because Vot was a bit more tuned to the ground, and Galnos to the plants, they both seemed to have it covered. It would appear that as long as they were together, the wines they produced could do no wrong. In the words of a wine critic, “the best Zerin blend one could savor, in decades!”

The celebration that went on when the Covered Bridge Brand '55 won a competition was still going on in ‘57, and later in 1760 the entire winery grew world-famous. Not just Zerin brands, but a world championship led the group of Membayar, Free Workers and their cohorts into fame. It was a lasting fame, as well – for at least a century to come, the Covered Bridge label would have the Zekiran Grand Wine Council's stamp of approval upon it.

Galnos and Vot took over full production of the wines and land, when Vot's mother passed away in the early ‘70s, and with the success that they had had they kept the production values high. Some thirty five years after their first child's birth, the pair surprised everyone with a second boy!

Gelavghel, never suited to work outside yet with a strong floral tuning that allowed him to work directly with the great chillled vats of wine distilling in their casks, was quite proud of his parents. The ever-smiling man's joy to find that now he could share the ins and outs of brewing with someone new gave him inspiration that was somewhat beyond his mother's and father's.

He wanted to share the secrets of manipulating wines with his own children – yet he had none. He was a pleasant man to be around, yet sometimes he would become so intensely focused on a subject that he all but forgot to eat or sleep. Gelavghel's motto seemed to be ‘to the fullest, to the last', in fact he wanted to put that on their particular bottles, pressed into the glass.

He got his wish, eventually, because Galnos always wished to keep him specially praised. Not that she would favor either he or his brother over the other, but… She'd made a promise to herself, and she did have more than enough money to spend it on an embossing tool for the glasiers.

Gelavghel began his search for a partner without hesitation, when his brother was born. She came in the form of a Bayaran who worked for the winery, Bonded to Vot, named Havara.

Even though they tried, however, it seemed to Gelavghel that one or both of them were having some problems.

He wanted to consult a Breeder – not a mere Healer, but a real Breeder who could help solve their fertility disorders. And that would take time and money.

It was money that might have come from his parents, if he'd asked – but like his mother he was fiercely proud of his ability to work things out on his own. Even though he'd been given most of what he had freely, he did work hard for a living. So he bundled himself under a silken wrap that matched his skin but protected it at the same time, asked Vot to allow Havara out for the month with him, and they went in search of a Breeder.

The Rar area, while it had been settled for quite a long time, had few exotic professionals – and in this case a Breeder of anything higher than a healing degree was hardly to be found. So they had to travel. While Valnot grew into a cute boisterous cherub of a child at home, Havara and Gelavghel wandered the countryside in one of Galnos' two carriages. She rarely used them, as she always grew heartsick when she was away from the winery grounds. So putting it to good use seemed a very good idea at the time.

The road south to Tenet was a bumpy and twisty one. But Tenet was sure to have what they were looking for. The city itself, built well out of steel and concrete as well as dark stones and rich woods, gave off a perpetual sort of fogginess. No one could quite see the sun directly in Tenet, or so they claimed. Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but to Gelavghel, the foggy overpinnings put his own skin more at ease. The winds that came from the nearby delta brought fumes of rich fertile lands – above the sea by a few hundred meters, the city supported huge Steed lands, farming and the like. Gelavghel almost wanted to move here, except that his work was very specific and he really felt more comfortable in a winery instead of a farm.

They sought out a Breeder from a small inn, with the company of several elderly Membayar who were vacationing and seeing the sights of Bohata before returning to their own homestead.

Perhaps Havara wished for more than just a simple Breeding contract, but her Bond would remain in place for decades – it would not be practical to marry, just to see her husband sent into Bayaran to help her. She was a very quiet woman, middle aged, and more sedately colored in a darker green and strong blue. There was something within her, though, something that connected to Gelavghel maybe even on a genetic level. He felt certain that if she'd been properly tested she might be found to be of more use than just a grounds keeper. When they did find their Breeder, he would confirm that yes, she had certain genetic perks – but nothing that even jumped out at him when he did the testing.

Disappointed, but not out of the race, Gelavghel asserted that he wished to make sure that their children would be able to enjoy the sun and sky freely – he wanted to select for something more that gave them an advantage without his averse reactions.

“You do understand that this will… cost quite a bit,” Breed Lord Kulli said. He looked over the edges of the paperwork he held, charts which indicated the job to be done. “We are not just talking about stirring your sperm up a bit, you know. This is complicated science.”

“You do not have to pretend like I know nothing,” Gelavghel said, “I know what I'm asking.”

“To genetically engineer portions of your cells will require time, and I will be working only with samples until I have a viable embryo,” the Breeder said. Sternly he added, “this is not something I usually perform for a Worker and his Bayaran friend.”

Somewhat irked by that statement, Gelavghel almost sneered, but remembered his place. He instead chose to bow his head a little and avoid eye contact, when he said, “but it is in fact what we wish to do.”

“So be it, then,” Kulli replied, with a hint of a smile. “We shall work out the contracts as needed, then. Would you like to donate your samples now?”