The Masterharper of Pern

CHAPTER EIGHT

Robinton didn't know what his mother wrote in her reply to Master Gennell, but she did explain to her son that she had to serve out her contract with Benden Hold.She also wanted to give C'gan, the Weyrsinger, more training.He was musically sound enough, but needed to develop more confidence in his harpering.She would also insist that a good, voice-training harper be assigned to Benden Hold when apprentices walked the tables to journeyman status this summer.Benden deserved the best there was.

"For a variety of reasons," she said."However, I think we'll bring Maizella back with us to the Hall.She'll profit more from working with various Masters now that she's learned the basics." She gave one of her enigmatic smiles."She can sing with Halanna."

Robinton's opinion wasn't asked, but he would have much preferred a longer term at Benden Hold, and not just because of his friendship with Falloner, Hayon and the others.He didn't really want to go back to the Harper Hall, even if, when an excited Maizella started quizzing him about his home, he suddenly missed his friends there, even Lexey.

Maizella's parents were delighted to think that the MasterSinger even suggested the idea for their daughter.That was after Lady Hayara gave birth to another son.

"I'd have preferred another girl," she admitted to Merelan when she and Robie dutifully visited her."It's so much easier just to marry them off suitably than have to worry about all the rivalry among boys to succeed.I mean, I know that Raid will make a good Lord Holder but…" And she never finished her sentence.

Falloner had spent one evening explaining to Robinton why it was better to be in Weyr or Hall because, if you were a male in line for succession in a Hold, you had to guard yourself against jealous brothers and cousins.

"But don't the Lord Holders all get together in one of their Councils and decide?" Robinton asked, and got a snort for his ingenuousness.

"Sure, they decide, but it's usually the strongest one they pick, the one who's survived long enough to present himself as a candidate.

Mind you, at the Weyr there's some scheming and displaying when there's a queen to mate." A shrewd look came over the weyr lad's face."But no one dies, of course, because dragonriders can't fight to-the-death duels, and a real smart rider can make certain his bronze gets the queen ahead of the others."

"How?"

Falloner gave him a patient look."There are ways, there are ways!That's how my father beat out all the other bronze riders when Feyrith rose the last time.Carola wanted C'rob in her weyr, but Spakinth wasn't as clever as Chendith.Not by half, he wasn't.

And Feyrith's clutch by Chendith was much larger than her last one by Spakinth."

"I thought the Weyrleader stayed Weyrleader…" Robinton mentally reviewed all the songs he knew about dragonkind.

"Only as long as his dragon flies the queen," Falloner said, shaking his head.

"I wish you could come back to the Harper Hall with me," Robinton suggested shyly.

"No way," Falloner said.I'll be back at the Weyr.I don't want to be away too long, you see."

"Why?There're no eggs on the Hatching Ground, and besides, you're not old enough yet."

"Only another Turn to go," Falloner said, as cocky as ever."Not that it hasn't been great getting to know you, and your mother's terrific.She's made sure I'll be more visible now."

"Visible?" It seemed to Robinton that Falloner would do better to efface himself instead of getting into so much trouble that he had to be sent away from the Weyr so the Weyrwoman would calm down.Robinton never did find out what his friend's offence had been.

"Yes, I can help C'gan now that I can read and copy music almost as well as you can."

"You learn quickly," Robinton said generously.

"I have to," Falloner said, quite serious, "if I'm to be Weyrleader in the next Pass.C'mon, I'll help you finish packing.You've sure got more than you came with."

"Everyone's been very kind to me," Robinton admitted.

"Why not?You're stepping on no one's toes here."

Robinton had a lump in his throat the next afternoon when he had to say goodbye to all those he'd met at Benden, especially Falloner and Hayon.

"Don't worry, Rob," Falloner murmured in his ear as they stood by Spakinth's side, watching as the carisaks were heaved up and over the bronze's back."As soon as I've a bronze dragon, I'll come and visit.Promise."

"I'll expect you," Robinton told him, grinning broadly to keep the tears back.

"Up you get," C'rob said and flung him up the bronze's side.

Robinton knew the trick of grabbing a neck ridge and scrambling into place.Then his mother, more gracefully, seated herself behind him and waved to those on the ground who were seeing them off.When he heard her sniffing, Robie knew he wasn't the only one sorry to leave Benden.He did wish they could have stayed longer.

It took a little longer to get Maizella up on Cortath, since she had so much baggage to bring with her for her Turn of training at the Harper Hall.Tears were streaming down her face, tears of joy, he knew.

Well, he thought with little charity, she'll find the Hall quite different from living in Benden Hold.And that thought kept him from sniffling.

Then they were off, Spakinth once more nearly shaking his skull from his neck with his skyward jump.Robinton was becoming inured to the fright of between by now and felt only the cold, not the fear.He was rather proud of himself.

Spakinth was showing off: he emerged right over the Harper Hall courtyard, low enough to be on a level with the rooftops as he backwinged and delicately landed.

"Well done, Spakinth," Merelan said, clapping her hands.

"I'll kill him later," C'rob said almost grimly."Pulling a stunt like that without permission."

"Oh, don't, C'rob," Merelan said, her eyes dancing."What an entrance!And here comes Cortath with M'ridin and Maizella, rather more circumspectly."

Grinning, she waved at those gathered on the steps.Then she began to clap again as a chorus from the second-storey assembly room sang a loud musical welcome:

We're glad you're home

We're glad you've come

We welcome you

With heart and voice

And hope you'll never leave.

Someone even provided a trumpet flourish and a roll of drums as a finale, which delighted Merelan even more.Only Robinton saw her sweeping gaze looking, just as he was, for his father.

Petiron was not among those standing on the Harper Hall steps, but maybe he was leading the singers.Master Gennell was there, waving enthusiastically along with Betrice, Ginia, Lorra, with her youngest daughter on her hip, Master Bosler, and Master Ogolly who had an arm about Lexey and Libby.Barba stood on the step below them.

"Don't mention your father's melody, Rob, love.Not unless he does' his mother hurriedly whispered in his ear, and then helped him dismount from Spakinth's high withers as Gennell and Betrice rushed forward to assist.

"My, you've grown," Betrice cried, giving him a big hug before Lexey and Libby could reach him."And is that young Maizella?" she asked as Master Bosler and Ginia went to help the Benden Hold girl."Another of Halanna's stripe?No, there's not that much luggage, is there?"

"Maizella's all right, and she listens to my mother." Robie grinned as he opened the heavy jacket he'd worn for between and resettled his shirt.

"Didja miss us?" Lexey wanted to know, dancing about: his expression suggested that he had missed his patient friend very much indeed.

"Course I did, Lexey," and Rob gave him a mock punch."I learned some great new games, too, Libby," he added, turning to the girl.

His mother began to introduce her new student to the MasterHarper, his spouse and the other adults, letting Betrice take charge.

"Robinton…" and his mother prompted him to thank Spakinth and C' rob for returning them home.

"Glad to do it, MasterSinger.Any chance of your coming back to sing at the Autumn Gather?I was asked to ask you," C'rob said, grinning from ear to ear.

"I'll see if it's possible, C'rob.I'd certainly like to." At her words, Robinton nodded vigorously, which made her laugh."I can see that I'll be nagged to death until I do," she added, tousling her son's hair. "Can you not stop for some klah?"

C'rob shook his head with real regret."Not today.But thanks!" They stood there courteously while both riders remounted; then the dragons launched themselves into the air and turned eastward before disappearing.

Robinton caught the sad little sigh from his mother before she turned back and smiled at those who had welcomed her.

"Come now," Lorra was saying, taking Merelan by the arm, "I've put on a little something to take away the chill of between…And you lot be careful with the MasterSinger's things," she added, scowling at the apprentices who were halfway up the stairs, burdened with carisaks.

"We weren't between long enough to get cold," Robinton said.

"And who's the seasoned traveller, then?" Lorra asked, amused.

"Mother and I got to the Weyr several times a-dragonback, you know," he went on.

"Can we come in too?" Libby asked, hovering in the doorway with Lexey and Barba.

"When were you ever refused food in this Hall?" Lorra demanded.As she resettled young Silvina on her hip, she waved them towards the small dining room with its table set with a huge bowl of her special fruit drink and plates of pies and cakes."Even if you only just got up from lunch.Did Benden feed you just before you left?" she asked the travellers.

"Well, we were given lunch Benden time…"

"At least their timing's right," the headwoman said almost approvingly.

Merelan swung round from the table when she heard boot-steps on the flagstones in the hall, but it was Masters Gennell, Bosler and Ogolly coming in.

"I'd hoped that Petiron would make it back from Ruatha Hold in time," Master Gennell said apologetically to Merelan.

"Oh?"

"But he was certain he'd be here to greet you," Gennell went on, "so we didn't drum a message to delay your return until he was back." The MasterHarper looked towards the open Hall door as if he expected Petiron to be riding in at any moment."It's not that long a journey, and I saw that the harpers were all well mounted.

Their Autumn Gather, and they'd particularly requested something special from us."

"Halanna went?" Merelan asked in a bland voice.

"Yes, and Londik, though I'd say," Gennell added with a frown, "his voice is about to change."

"That won't matter now," she said almost casually, and looked down at her son."Robie can take over the treble solos.He did all that were needed at Benden, both Hold and Weyr, and it's not just as his mother that I'm proud of him."

"No, of course not.And did you like visiting the Weyr, Rob?" Master Gennell smiled kindly down at him.

"It was fabulous," Robinton said.He was quite willing to describe everything: he couldn't remember if Master Gennell had been to the Weyr."Isn't it?"

"Yes, a very special place indeed." Gennell gave Rob a pat on his head and then turned to Merelan."So, tell me more about our new soprano, Lord Maidir's girl."

"She's a well-behaved young lady," Merelan said, chuckling as Master Gennell's obvious apprehension eased."I'd scarcely inflict the Hall with another…" She cleared her throat and suggested that Robie might like to finish his drink with his friends.

Robinton went off, grinning to himself because he knew what she'd been about to say.

His father did not arrive back at the Hall until the autumn day had nearly ended.Two of the journeymen with him were leading runner-beasts, one of which was very definitely lame.

"Runner-beasts went lame, Mother," Robinton said from his perch at the front window."Not Father's, though," he added as she hurried in from her bedroom to peer over his shoulder."See.There he is!" And he pointed to his father's unmistakable tall, lean figure, dismounting from a Ruathan bay gelding.

He couldn't understand his mother's reaction.She'd worried about Petiron not being there, and now she didn't seem to care that he was safely home.

"It wouldn't be like Father to hurry on ahead unless everything was all right," he said.

"Sometimes, Robie," she told him, putting her hand under his chin and tipping his face up, "you're too forgiving."

He didn't feel so forgiving when it seemed to take an age for his father to greet his family.

"Trouble on the way, Petiron?" his mother asked, turning from the window and the brilliant sunset.

"Two lame runner-beasts, because they thought to get home faster," he said, swinging saddlebags and instrument case to the bench."You had the safer way to travel." He came over to her and gave her a peck on her cheek."Londik's voice is gone."

"I can sing instead, then," Robinton piped up.

His father, almost as if just realizing his son was in the room too, frowned slightly."That's as it may be.But it is way past your bedtime, Robinton, and your mother and I have a lot to discuss.Good night."

"And you've no more welcome than that for your son, Petiron?" Merelan asked in such a tense voice that Robie was startled.

"It's all right, Mother.Good night, Father," he said and left, almost running out of the room in his dismay.

"Petiron, how could you?"

Robie shut the door on whatever reply his father made, glad that he couldn't hear anything through the thick wooden panels.He flung himself on his bed and wished he was back at Benden Hold.

Even Lord Maidir was nicer to him than his father was.Why couldn't he please his own father?What had he done wrong?

Why couldn't he do something right?He probably shouldn't have said that he could take Londik's place.But he could.He knew he could.His mother had said that his voice was every bit as good as Londik's, and he was the better musician.And she didn't just say things like that to make you feel good, not about professional matters.

He muffled the sobs he could not control in his pillow.And when he heard some shouting later, he pulled the pillow over his head and pushed it tight against his ears so that he couldn't hear anything except his own pulse.

He had to audition for the position of solo treble singer in front of all the Masters, which made him a little nervous.The requirement had made his mother furious.

"Are you doubting my professional opinion, Petiron?" she asked when she heard what was proposed.All the windows were open, making it impossible for Robinton to avoid hearing.

"Any singer who is to be a soloist for the Harper Hall has to be auditioned," his father had answered.

"Only if he hasn't been heard by all the Masters before," Merelan had said, tight-voiced.

"I do not wish anyone to think that I am pushing my son into a place that another also qualifies for."

"There is no other treble as qualified!And everyone but you knows very well that Robinton has a splendid treble."

"Then there is no problem in following protocol, is there?"

"Protocol!Protocol?For your own son?"

"Of course.For him more than any other.Surely you can see that, Merelan”

"I wish, Petiron, I do sincerely wish that I could."

Robie had flinched when he heard the outer door slam.He felt his throat tighten, and then reminded himself sternly that he had no time for that right now.He was harper-trained and he'd prove, especially to his father, that he was well trained.

Because he was, of course, facing his auditors, he caught the little reassuring gestures they made, and his mother's encouraging expression as she played the introduction to the music they had decided he should present first.He was to sing two songs, showing off his abilities, an optional piece and then a score he had not seen before.

"That', his mother had said in an odd voice, "is going to be very difficult because he knows all the music."

"There will be one he doesn't know," his father had said, giving his head the one final nod which indicated this subject was closed.

So he sang the Question Song, and that made all the Masters sit up, including his father.But the song suited his range and showed good phrasing as well as voice control, as he let the final note die away without breaking it off.

"Odd choice," was his father's comment after the warm applause had died.Petiron handed him a double sheet."This would have been Londik's next solo.Not even he has seen it.You may have a few minutes to look through it." He held out his hand to take Merelan's gitar from her and sat on the stool, prepared to accompany his son himself.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Robinton turned his eyes down to his father's bold notations.But by the time he had to turn the page, he felt a surge of relief.If his father thought this would show up his unsuitability, he might even get a pleasant surprise.

"I'm ready," Robie said, turning the music back to the first page.

"You should take more time than that," his father told him.

"I've read it through, Father," Robinton replied.His father didn't know how quickly he memorized music, even the complex tempo Petiron liked to use and the odd intervals he was fond of putting in: "To jar the audience awake," one of the journeymen had said in Robie's hearing.

"Let's not make the lad nervous, Petiron," Master Gennell said.

"If he says he's ready, we'll have to take him at his word."

"I'll play the first measure, then go back to the top," Petiron said, as if conferring a special favour.

Robinton saw his mother's warning finger go up, so he said nothing.But he was spot perfect coming in at the top.He didn't need to, but he kept the score in front of his eyes, not wanting to look in his father's direction.He had no trouble singing the unusual intervals, or keeping an accurate tempo, even when it changed almost every other measure.There was one run, which would have suited Londik's flexible voice too, and a trill which Rob had no trouble with either, his mother having used him to show Maizella how to deal with that sort of vocal embellishment.

"I do believe we have a more than adequate replacement for Londik," Master Gennell said, rising and speaking over the applause."That was very well done, Robie.Surprised you too, didn't he, Petiron?You've been working the lad hard at Benden, Merelan, but it shows.It shows."

Petiron was looking at his son, his mouth slightly open, his right hand silencing the strings of the gitar.

"I do believe, Petiron, that you've forgotten that Robie turned ten while we were in Benden," Merelan said briskly.

"Yes, I had." Petiron rose slowly, putting the gitar carefully back in its case."But you must read the dynamics of a new piece more carefully, Son.In the fourth measure? "

"Petiron, I don't believe you," Master Gennell said."The lad did not so much as falter once, singing difficult music, for you don't write any other kind, which he had never seen before, and you're quibbling about the dynamics in one measure?"

"If he is to take Londik's place, he must be accurate in all particulars," Petiron said."And he will be.From now on, I shall oversee his musical education.There's a lot to be done…"

"Ah, but you're in error there, my good Petiron," Master Gennell said in his mildest voice, his round face quite bland."You, he pointed his finger at the MasterComposer "teach at journeyman level.We must follow the protocol, you know." And he beamed at a stunned Petiron.

Robinton heard a stifled noise and looked round at his mother, who gave him the oddest smile.

"Robinton is not old enough to be an apprentice, though as our lead treble he is now definitely under Hall jurisdiction.But? " Gennell went on in a very satisfied tone, "I think that he would benefit from special lessons with his mother, since obviously Merelan has brought his voice along this far with her usual excellent training." He nodded and bowed to her."And, of course, he'll continue his regular lessons with Kubisa, for we can't short him on general knowledge and the basics, now can we, simply because he has a splendid treble?You did very well, Robinton." Gennell's beam now included Robinton, and he awarded the boy a proprietary caress on his head and a final decisive pat."Yes, and I think some of us here, I, certainly will be more than willing to oversee other elements of his training until he does reach apprentice age." Gennell then sighed abruptly."Of course, when his voice breaks, we'll just have to see what his other musical qualifications are."

Robinton blinked when Gennell, whose wide shoulders shielded him from his father, gave him a solemn wink.

"Thank you, MasterHarper, I'll do my best not to disappoint," Robie said in the silence that fell.

Then everyone began to clear throats or shift feet or stand up.

His mother moved to his side, hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly to indicate her approval.

"Ah, Petiron, there's a drum message request from Igen for a repeat of that programme you put on for them last Turn," Gennell said, taking the MasterComposer by the arm and leading him out of the audition room."You might make it the debut for your son.

Not surprised he did so well, considering his parentage.You must be proud of him…" His voice trailed off down the hall.

"The MasterHarper may appear to be asleep from time to time," Master Ogolly remarked in his dry wispy voice, "but he doesn't miss much, does he, Merelan?What with summer schedules and all, I'm short of apprentices when I need them most.Robie, could you give me a few hours and help me catch up on copying manuscripts?"

Robie looked up at his mother for permission and she nodded.

"He writes the clearest hand, you know, Mere.Have you some free time this afternoon perhaps?" he added wistfully to Robinton.

"I'll be there after lunch," Robie said, grateful to be legitimately somewhere other than his own quarters for the rest of the day.Ever since he'd been considered old enough to feed himself, he'd sat at the younglings' table in the dining hall so that he could avoid his father at noon.He'd get a copy from Master Ogolly of the work Londik had sung last turn and memorize it.That way he wouldn't annoy his father.

If Robinton did not realize until he was full grown how deftly the Harper Hall conspired to save him from his father's perfectionism, he was consumed with relief when ‘protocol’ required him to join the other apprentices in their dormitory the day after his twelfth birthday.

Instead of being on better terms with his father after two turns of solo work, he seemed to annoy Petiron even more, no matter how hard he tried.In fact, it got so that everyone noticed, and the other singers made a point of telling him how well he did, loudly enough for his father, who gave him only a nod now and then, to hear.

He knew his transfer upset his mother, and yet he was positive it would make things a lot easier for her.It was only too obvious that his father couldn't wait to see the back of him.And his case wasn't the same as that of other apprentice lads: he'd lived in the Hall all his life, so he wouldn't be homesick in the dormitory.Although he would miss his mother's loving care, he was earnestly looking forward to leaving the family apartment.

"The boy is not going more than two hundred feet away," Petiron said as he watched Merelan taking great care in packing Robinton's belongings.Then he saw the thick roll of music she was stowing away."What's that?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Rob's done some exercises," she replied indifferently, and tried to place them out of sight in the carton.

"Exercises?"

"Classwork, I think," she added to stress the insignificance.She had it almost packed away when Petiron extracted the roll and pulled it open.

In the exasperating fashion thin hide can have, it resisted, and he was muttering under his breath with frustration.Merelan steeled herself and motioned surreptitiously for Robie to continue folding his clothing into the carisak.

Rob had so hoped that he could leave the apartment without any unpleasantness.Why did his father have to hang around this afternoon when he could have been anywhere else in the Hall just then?

"Exercises?Exercises!" Petiron glared first at his spouse and then through the doorway at his son.His tendency to use scowls as facial expressions had already carved deep lines in his long face.

"These are copies of those ridiculous tunes the apprentices keep asking to sing."

Robinton couldn't see his mother's face because she had risen, hoping to retrieve the roll.Petiron looked from one to the other and, for the first time in his dealings with his son, had a sudden perception.

"You,’ he waved the offending roll in his son's direction, 'wrote these."

"Yes…" Robinton had to tell the truth now, if never again."As exercises," he heard himself adding when he saw the deepening of the scowl on his father's face."Sort of variations…"

"Variations which all the Masters use in their classes.Variations which the instrumentalists constantly use.And twaddle at that, silly tunes that anyone can sing or play.Useless nonsense!Just what has been going on behind my back?"

"Since you have heard the Masters using Robie's songs in their classes, and the instrumentalists using them, then nothing has been going on behind your back, has it?" Merelan asked calmly and retrieved the roll from her spouse's hand.

"He's been composing?"

"Yes, he's been composing.Songs." She did not add that Petiron was looking at some of their son's very early work.She hoped he did not remember how long he had been hearing his son's charming, happy tunes."Wouldn't it be odd for him to be tone-deaf as well as note-blind in this Hall, saturated by music all the days of his life, and two MasterHarpers daily drumming sound into his head?I'd say it is only logical that he would write music and sing well.Don't you?"

Petiron stood, looking from one to the other.He watched as Merelan rolled the songs tight and pushed them back into the box.

"You hide from me the fact that he has perfect pitch, has a good treble voice, and has been writing music?"

"No - one - has - been - hiding - a sharding thing from you, Petiron," Merelan said tensely, enunciating every syllable and using a swear word that shocked Robinton as much as it did his father, who recoiled from Merelan's controlled anger."You - simply - did not hear, and did not see.Now, act the father for once in your life, and carry this carton to the dormitory.It's much too heavy for Rob." She pointed at the burden and then at the windows to the dormitory that Robinton would be using.

Without a word, Petiron picked it up and made his way out of the room.

Robinton looped two more carisaks over one shoulder and took one step forward, but his mother, her head turned towards the hallway, held up her hand.

"Wait a minute, dear." She turned back to him, her face drawn with sadness and despair."I shouldn't have said that.I shouldn't have lost my patience with the man.But I can't keep on saving his self-esteem, catering to his enormous ego, and always at your expense, Rob."

"It's all right, Mother.I understand."

His mother reached out to caress his cheek, he was nearly her height now, shaking her head sadly, her eyes full of tears."I'd be surprised if you really did, love, but it shows your good heart and generous spirit.Always keep that, Robie.It's a saving grace."

She let him go then and, though he didn't see his father on the stairs or in the dormitory, the box was on the bed assigned him.He started unpacking, hoping that both the lump in his throat and the sense of having lost something important would go away before any of the other apprentices appeared.

There were twenty-six in his class, quartered in three long rooms: he was lucky enough to be in the six-man one, so there was a trifle more space.By evening, he'd met them all, and they had been vetted by the older apprentices.He kept a suitable expression on his face when the head apprentice, a tall well-built lad from Keroon named Shonagar, rattled off what was expected of first-Turn apprentices, how they were the "lowest' of the "lowly' in the Hall, and the traditions of their new status.He also told them about the necessity of spending a night alone in the Weyr to prove their bravery.

"Harpers run into all kinds of problems and difficulties.This isn't just singing songs to folks in a hold in the evenings.It can be a dangerous life," he said, thoroughly solemn, "and you have to prove, now, that you can take it."

"But the Weyr's been empty for hundreds of Turns," exclaimed the skinniest of the new boys, Grodon, his eyes wide with anxiety.

He gulped hard.

"We've all done it, lad.You will, too," Shonagar said firmly.He glanced over at Robinton, raising his eyebrows as he recognized the new apprentice."All of you."

Robinton had rehearsed with Shonagar many times, Shonagar was a good second tenor more important, he was fair-minded and really did keep good order in the apprentice dormitories.Though his position as head apprentice was not an official rank, Master Gennell encouraged his leadership.Shonagar would allow no bullying or improper behaviour in the dorms.

Robinton hadn't mentioned his Hall background when the others were jabbering away about their homes, but it would soon become obvious.He hoped he could make friends in spite of having Masters as parents.He knew how apprentices could behave.

Fortunately, his innate modesty and amiability stood him in good stead as he settled in with the others.Grodon was terribly homesick the first seven-day, and Rob wheedled bedtime snacks from Lorra to ease his pain.Falawny, with sun-bleached hair and tanned skin, came from Igen; Shelline was a Neratian, also tanned; Lear was from Tillek, and delighted not to have to become a fisher like the rest of his kin.Jerint was a dark-complexioned lad from southern Keroon who spent a lot of his time softly playing his pipes.He was good at it, too, Robinton quickly realized.

Robie put himself forward ten days later when Shonagar entered their quarters after lights out.

"Right, now, who'll be first to spend the night at the Weyr?" the head apprentice demanded, eyeing his victims sternly as they lay in their beds.

All save Robinton scrunched down further under their sleeping furs, trying to disappear.

"I guess I wouldn't mind getting it all over with," Robinton said, throwing back his covers.

"Good for you, Robie," Shonagar said, nodding encouragingly.

Robinton dressed in the warmest of his clothes and, grabbing his jacket, prepared to go.

Shonagar and his two deputies waiting out in the corridor led him down the back stairs and out of the side door on the Hold side of the Hall.There were five runner beasts waiting there, held by a fourth apprentice.Robinton had always wondered how the round trip to the Weyr was managed in the one night without all the Masters knowing of the unscheduled excursion.He was glad he didn't have to hike up the long hill road that led to the Weyr.That would be scarier than being in it alone all night.Too many tunnel snakes across mountain roads at night…and other things.

They walked quietly across the huge Fort Hold square, up past the beastholds and cots, and then Shonagar led them through the tunnel which had been bored in the Fort Cliffside, one of the minor wonders of the world that their ancestors had made, and through to the next valley.Across it, at a good pace now that the noise the runners made wouldn't be heard, and up the winding road that led to Fort Weyr.Again another tunnel had been bored by the amazing equipment the Ancients had once possessed, and through this they went.For Robinton, that was the scariest part, even though Shonagar opened the glowbasket he had brought.Then they were out into the night, on the floor of the Weyr itself.Robinton could just about make out the openings to the Lower Caverns and a few of the individual weyrs in the weak light of a half-moon.

"You can build a fire if you want in the Cavern," Shonagar said, pointing and gesturing for Robinton to dismount.

One of the other lads laughed."If you can find any firing, that is."

"Leave it," Shonagar said sternly."We'll be back for you an hour before dawn.Have a good night."

With that he led the others, and Robinton's mount, away and Rob stumbled towards the black maw of the living quarters which had once teemed with weyrfolk.

His footsteps echoed slightly in the still night and he hugged his jacket closer around him.Well, it wasn't as cold as between.He did wish he'd had some warning so he could have saved a bit of his supper.Eating always made him feel better.

Once under the vaulting roof of Fort's Lower Cavern, he could see little but the hearths along its outer edge.

"If you can find any firing, indeed," he said with a snort."And nothing to light it with." He thought he'd best get some matches and hand them out to the other lads so that they could start a fire on their turns.Maybe see that there was some tinder for them to smuggle along.A glowbasket, even the smallest of them, couldn't be hidden under a jacket.Even the smallest blaze would be better than this deep black darkness.Not as dark, though, as between.

But there was light outside, so Robinton went exploring.He'd taken the precaution of looking at the plans of Fort Weyr in the Archives.He'd told his room-mates to do so, as well, when they had a chance during their script lessons.So he found the steps leading to the rank of junior queen weyrs.They'd be warmer since they got their heat, as Fort Hold and the Harper Hall did, from deep inside the earth.No one now knew how that had been done, but it was why they didn't all freeze in the bleaker months of full winter.

He was somewhat glad that this ordeal occurred in the early autumn.

He stumbled twice going up the stairs: the steps were slightly uneven, though wide enough to accommodate his whole foot.He found the entrance to the first weyr by almost falling into it, he'd been guiding himself along the ledge with one hand on the stone wall on his right.

Entering, still one hand on the wall, he once again almost fell inside when he reached the outer room, where the queen dragon had slept.As he moved cautiously into the room, he could smell the odd spicy odour that was so "dragony'.

Where had the weyrfolk gone to?There were so many notions about that: including the one which had all the dragonriders and weyrfolk returning to where the Ancients had come from.If they had, then why had no one else come to Pern?Surely there would be interest in the dragons of Pern!

He barked his shin on the dragon's couch and let out an exclamation, rubbing his leg.In the ensuing silence he heard the faint rustle of tunnel snakes making their way out (he hoped) of the weyr.He decided he'd gone far enough into the darkness, and sat down on the raised stone.Unexpectedly, he sat in a shallow declivity and felt around in it.Obviously, large and heavy dragon bodies had formed depressions in the stone, and he ran daring fingers in the dust, as if he could conjure the creatures which had made the hollows.That, more than anything else, reassured him.He grinned and rearranged his body, swinging his legs round so that he was facing the faint light coming down the hall, the wallow accommodating his still slight frame while he could pillow his head on his arms on the outer edge.He must remember to thank Falloner for taking him around Benden Weyr.Fort might be empty of its people and creatures, but it was still a Weyr and one of the safest places on his world.He could smell dragon, and dust, but mostly dragon.He went to sleep listening to the faint rustlings of tunnel snakes, but he doubted they would dare venture where dragons had lain.

It did him no harm with all the other apprentices that he had to be wakened in the dusk preceding dawn by some loud shouting.When Robinton emerged on the weyr ledge, Shonagar urgently waved him down.

"Where have you been, Rob?We gotta get back to the Hall before they know we've borrowed the runners.We've been all over the place looking for you."

"It's warm in a weyr," Robinton said, yawning.

"Sorry to disturb your slumbers.Mount up.We're going to have to move!" Shonagar had a respectful scowl on his face as he handed the initiate the reins."And remember, not a word to the others.

They must do it themselves, too."

"Oh, it's not so bad," Rob said, grinning.

"Just don't let me hear you've warned "em about anything,

Robinton!" Shonagar repeated, bailing his hand into a fist.

"No.I'll obey."

Of course, Robinton realized he wouldn't actually tell them anything, but he'd show them the matches and tinder he'd put in their pockets.

As they cantered towards the tunnel, Robinton looked up at the Star Stones, immense black dolmens against a lightening eastern sky.He caught a flick of something and wondered if the ghosts of departed dragons still kept a watch on the heights.Looking again, he saw a wherry wheeling down, probably from its nest in one of the upper weyrs.

Robinton really liked being an apprentice.In this he astonished his room-mates and the other twenty in his class.They would come to him for his advice and, often, comfort, and he'd help the slow ones with their lessons.

"Going to take over from me, Rob?" Shonagar asked him once.

"Me?" Rob grinned back."You can keep the responsibility, for now.And I'm just one of them, so it's easier for them to ask me because I'm handy and know the place, that's all."

Tor all of that, you've not had it that easy," Shonagar said with a wry smile.They'd just finished a long rehearsal for the Turn's End concert: Rob, as usual, was singing the solo treble parts.

Halanna and Maizella were also soloists, but though Petiron remarked favourably on their performances, he had not so much as a nod for his son.The apprentices, being as astute as they were, did not fail to notice this.But if any complained, he'd shrug and remark that his father expected him to be note-perfect.

His mother kept up his vocal training, and he had now graduated to apprentice classes.He particularly enjoyed his stint in the Drum Tower, because at last he got to learn the meaning of the codes he had been hearing all his life.Like everyone else, he knew that the initial beats indicated the final destination of the message and who had sent it, but it took time to get the sense of the actual message.

In fact, he was on duty the day Feyrith, Carola's queen, produced her final clutch, though no one knew at the time that it would be her last.The best news was that there was a queen egg, and the drum message added the extra beats for excitement and major news.A large clutch, too, with nine bronzes.

Robinton spent a few seven-days hoping that there would be a Search and he'd be found acceptable, and become a harper-dragonrider. But no dragons came on Search to Fort Hold or the Harper Hall, and no other Hold reported the arrival of dragons looking for candidates.Robinton was bitterly disappointed.He had been so sure that the dragons liked him.Didn't they like him enough to come and find him?

For fear of being ridiculed, he didn't tell anyone about his thwarted desire.He did ask a few questions of his Masters, in case they knew how Searches were conducted, but the answers he got did nothing to assuage his anxiety or hopes."That's always up to the Weyr, lad," or "Who knows what's in dragon minds?" "Sometimes the dragons don't Search.Don't need to.Didn't you tell me there were lots of lads your age at Benden Weyr?" Which was true enough, but it still didn't keep him from searching the skies for a dragon, in case he could get one to speak to him. His distraction was noticed in class, and he was given extra duties to encourage him to "pay proper attention to your lessons and stop daydreaming'.He had time, while sweeping down the main court, to see the folly of his disappointment.

He was on Drum Tower duty again when the news of the Hatching came in.Swallowing the final vestige of his own disappointment, Robinton just had to find out if Falloner had been Impressed.After all, Falloner had a real right to be Impressed.

Greatly daring, he asked permission of the journeyman in charge of the tower to find out.

"You see, I met a couple of the possible candidates.Falloner, he's the weyrling who was at the Hold for Mother to teach." Robinton was not above using what he needed to get to do something as important as this, and he knew that the journeyman liked his mother."I know she'd like to know if Falloner Impressed…" He let his voice trail off.

"Oh, go ahead," the journeyman said with a smile."Only keep it short."

Robinton worked out the message and the non-urgent coding, got approval, and beat it out himself.He hoped he'd hear back before his duty ended.But he didn't.

That evening, however, the journeyman sought him out at dinner and gave him a slip of hide and a wink.

Robinton could barely restrain his hurrah!Falloner had Impressed a bronze.So had Rangul and Sellel, though that draconic choice surprised Robinton - and six others whose names he recognized from his visits to the Weyr.The WeaverCraftHall lad from High Reaches, Lytonal, was now L'tol and rode brown Larth.

He caught his mother on her way to evening rehearsal and told her.

"I suspected that young rascal would make bronze," she said.

"And Rangul.Nine bronzes is a good clutch.A queen egg is even better.It may well be that S'loner is right, after all." She hurried away then without explaining her last cryptic remark.

Robinton wondered if Falloner, now F'lon, would remember his promise to him, that he'd come to the Harper Hall on his bronze so that Robinton could meet him. Wouldn't his dorm-mates be amazed!It was a fun thing to think about, but Robinton ratherthought that F'lom now being above a mere Harper Hall apprentice, might not consider he had to honour that promise.Anyway, it took a while for a dragonet to learn to fly.

He did his lessons in the Archives with everyone else, but mostly he copied special files for Master Ogolly, since he was the fastest and most accurate of them all.He had already made some instruments that had received the Harper mark, which allowed his work to be sold at Gathers.Now he learned how to repair broken frets and stems, and drum frames, and to string harps and gitars and do fine marquetry.He was content in a way he had never known before, away from the tension which had become so stressful in his parents' rooms.His mother, too, smiled more frequently at the head tables or during her lessons with him.So his departure had indeed made life easier for her.

His treble voice lasted until the growth spurt in his thirteenth summer when his body, as well as his throat and speaking equipment, altered dramatically.He and his mother were rehearsing a Solstice duet when suddenly his voice made a dramatic octave drop.

"Well now, that's that, I guess, dear," she said, resting her arm on the crook of her gitar."Now, love, it isn't really the end of the world, though I daresay your father will be annoyed to have to make changes in the soloist so close to Solstice.Your voice won't last until then."

"But who'll…' and in his dismay, Robie's voice broke again "… sing it with you?"

"Recall that delicate-looking blond lad from Tillek who auditioned last week?" Merelan raised her eyebrows in a droll fashion.

"He's not the musician you are, and I'll have to work him hard, but he has the range, if not your skill and experience."

"What's Father going to say?" Robinton asked fretfully.He really didn't want to be around to hear.

Merelan chuckled."He'll consider that you did this on purpose, of course, to disarrange his concert.He'll rant a bit about you letting him down at a critical time, and then require me to take the lad on for special sessions." She regarded her son with a tilt to her head and an affectionate smile."You'll probably end up a baritone, you know.You've the right facial structure.And your father's a baritone."

"I've never heard him sing," Robie protested.

Merelan chuckled."Oh, he can.He just doesn't feel he sings well enough." She gave a little chuckle."But, if you listen closely, you'll hear him joining the baritone line in the choral parts.He had a very good natural voice when he first came to the Hall.He just didn't think it was solo quality." She made a little grimace, followed by a light sigh."He has to be perfect in anything he does."

"Mother," Robie began, because the problem was becoming more and more pressing, "what will I do when Father takes me for composition as a journeyman?" His unreliable voice cracked on the second syllable.

"Walk the tables first, love, and don't worry.Though I must be truthful and say that I wonder how we're going to keep from upsetting him over that.You already know as much as he does about theory, composition, and even orchestration.Fortunately, I think your particular forte is with vocal rather than instrumental music, so you won't be in direct competition with him.He may not see it in the same light, but neither of us can help that, can we?Let's go and have some klah, shall we?" She put her gitar carefully back in the case and reached up to caress his cheek."I still can't get accustomed to the sudden height of you.I wonder how tall you'll be.All the men in my family are certainly tall."

"I remember Rantou." Robie grinned, because he would never forget how upset his father had been at Rantou's preference for working as a lumberman, when he had the voice and musicality to be a harper.At least Robinton was not the only one whom his father expected to be perfect.

When his voice finally settled into the baritone range, he was nearly the tallest of the second-Turn apprentices.His father relegated him to the back row of the chorus, where Robinton was quite happy to be.His mother, however, beginning to instruct him in his new voice, was delighted with its flexibility and depth.

"It's a lovely voice, Robie." She flicked her fingers in an excess of delight, smiling at him."Velvety and rich.Now, we won't force it but I think it's solo quality."

"Even if my father's isn't?"

Merelan made a face."Yours has a totally different timbre, and a better range.We can work it into something special."

"Something appropriate for simple songs?"

Her grimace darkened and she slapped his arm."Simple songs that everyone loves to hear, play and sing!Don't you dare belittle what you do so very well.Far better than he ever could.The only real music he ever wrote? ' She stopped, pursing her lips in irritation.

"Was the music he wrote while we were at Benden." Robinton finished the sentence for her."And you're right.Speaking quite objectively as a harper, my father's compositions are technically perfect and demanding, brilliant for instrumentalists and vocal dexterity, but scarcely for the average holder and craftsman."

She waggled her finger under his nose."And don't you ever forget that!"

Robinton caught the threatening finger and kissed it lovingly.

"Oh, Robie," she said in a totally different voice."How different it all could have been." She leaned against him in regret, taking consolation in his tall, strong form and his embrace.

"Well, it wasn't, Mother, and we can't alter what has been." He patted her back soothingly.

Abruptly, and in another lightning change of mood, she pushed away from him, poking him in the ribs."Will you ever fill out?I swear, you're nothing but bones."

"And there's Lorra complaining I eat twice as much as any other three apprentices!You're a fine one to complain," he added, notinga distinctive pallor in her complexion.She flushed, moving away completely.

"It's nothing." She gave a funny laugh."Change of life, Ginia says." "You're not that old, surely," Robinton protested, vehemently denying that his mother would ever age."Why, your voice is better than ever."

She laughed with real humour."Proof, son of mine, that I'm in my prime, not my decline."

The Harper Bell chimed the turn of the hour and she gave him a little push."Your harp awaits you."

He kissed her cheek and was out of the door to the accompaniment of another chuckle.But he knew she understood his eagerness to put the finishing touches on the lap harp which had caused him so much anxiety.It was one of the four pieces he had to finish creditably to become a journeyman, and he wanted it so that even his father could not find fault with it.

When his work was displayed anonymously with the others, his father passed it by without comment and dismissed someone else's instead.Of course, Robinton had been careful not to repeat patterns of embellishment which he had used on other items.It amused him that never again did his father find fault with anything of his among those he inspected.

The highlight of his second turn as an apprentice came in the spring.Robinton was in the semi-basement workshop at the front end of the Hall rectangle when suddenly a bronze dragon landed in the centre of the courtyard and the rider cupped his hands and yelled, "Robinton?Robinton! Apprentice Robinton!' That final call was almost a taunt, coming out in a singsong tone.

"By the First Egg!It's you the dragonrider wants, Rob," Master Bosler said.

Robinton peered out of the half-window and saw nothing but bronze dragon feet and belly."May I go?"

"My dear boy, if a dragonrider calls for anyone," the Master said, grinning, "that person had better hop it…Off with you!"

Robinton raced up the steps and out of the right-hand door into the courtyard."I'm here, F'lon!' he yelled, racing across the courtyard to the bronze, who had craned his neck round, eyes bright blue and whirling with excitement.

"I told you I’d come…" and F'lon modified his tone as he dismounted gracefully to meet his old friend, embracing him in his eagerness.

Once again, Rob was struck by F'lon's unusual amber eyes, which sparkled with delight.

"You also told me you'd Impress bronze…" Rob looked politely at the watching dragon."What's your name, if you don't mind?"

The dragon blinked.

"Ah, he's shy." F'lon's wicked smile belied that."His name is Simanith." The dragon put his head close to his rider's body, his eyes on Robinton."You can always speak to my friend Robinton, if you want.He's going to be MasterHarper, when he gets old enough."

"Now, wait a minute!" Robinton exclaimed, holding up his hands defensively and laughing at the very thought.MasterHarper was not only a position he had no desire for but one his father would certainly veto.

"Dream, man, that you make Harper.I dreamed and look…" F'lon gestured dramatically at Simanith, a broad, proud grin nearly splitting his face in two.

"I was in the Drum Tower when the news came in, and I got permission to find out who Impressed bronze, so I've known," Rob told his friend.

"And never sent me word."?" F'lon scowled in mock disgust as he stripped off the close-fitting riding helmet.

"Well, you're not supposed to send private messages.I got the whole list though, Rangul and Sellel…"

F'lon wrinkled his nose."Yeah, R'gul and S'lel are bronze riders, too, though why they were picked out of those presented I will never know." He rubbed at his sweaty hair."Hey, you've got tall."

Robinton stepped back to sweep his friend with an appraising look."You're not short yourself."

F'lon turned sideways and tapped his shoulder.Obediently Robinton stood back to back with him.F'lon's hand proved their heads were on the same level.

"Going to grow any more."?" F'lon asked.

Robinton laughed, partly out of elation that F'lon had remembered his promise and partly because they were the object of much attention from the windows overlooking the courtyard, including, Robinton realized, stifling a groan, the rehearsal hall where his father was working with the chorus.He also caught a glimpse of Lorra, standing on the steps of the Hall and beckoning to him.And then he saw her youngest daughter, Silvina, running across the courtyard towards them.She skidded to a stop and passed the dragon at a more decorous pace.

"Mother…says…he must have…hospitality…" she said, catching her breath and looking awed to be so close to dragon and rider.

"This is my friend from Benden Weyr who is now bronze rider, F'lon," Rob said, daring to clap F'lon on the back to show that a dragonrider would allow him such familiarity."This is Silvina, whose mother makes the best cakes and pastries in the world."

"Well," F'lon said, rubbing his hands together appreciatively, "a dragonrider never refuses hospitality!" He paused, looking directly at Simanith."He'll wait for me on the heights.Plenty of sun today."

Simanith sprang up after his rider and Robinton reached the steps, and yet his wings still flung dirt and gravel at them.

"Is riding a dragon as good as you thought it would be?" Rob asked shyly as they entered the Hall.

F'lon grinned and took a deep breath."You've no idea how good it is." He slapped his friend on his back."But I'll fly you anywhere you need to go, m'friend.Are you still singing?"

"Baritone now," Rob said with some satisfaction."You?Not that it matters if you're a bronze rider."

"Oh, it matters," F'lon assured him with sufficient emphasis to reassure."Dragons like music, and I guess I'm baritone too." He did a descending scale in what Robinton professionally appraised as a light if pleasant voice.

"You're right, baritone.Too bad I'm not also a rider."

F'lon's expression changed as he caught the wistful note in his friend's voice."There've been so few clutches that there were a lot of weyrbred to stand on the Hatching Ground.S'loner decided not to Search.Happens sometimes that way." F'lon's rueful smile was genuine."You'd've made a good rider." Then he paused, his eyes unfocusing briefly.

I will talk to you, Robinton, if you wish me to, said a voice in Robinton's mind: a voice that had F'lon's intonation and texture.

The double surprise, that Simanith was speaking to him and in F'lon's voice, caused Robinton to stumble on the steps.Grinning, the rider helped him regain his balance.

"Maybe it's a poor substitute, Rob, but the best I can do for you," F'lon said.

"Simanith sounds like you," Robinton managed to remark.

"Does he?" F'lon considered this."I hadn't noticed.We only hear them in our heads, after all, and not really out loud.Anyway, you can talk to him any time you want."

"Thanks, I will.When I can think of something appropriate to say." "You will," F'lon said with great certainty.

Silvina was waiting at the small dining-room door and escorted them in.Robinton introduced his friend to Lorra.Though not as flustered as her daughter, she was clearly pleased to dispense hospitality to a dragonrider.

"I sent a messenger to your mother, Rob, because I know she's mentioned Falloner, excuse me, F'lon, as one of her pupils."

So a very cordial hour followed Merelan's entrance.All the cakes and most of the biscuits were consumed, and F'lon promised to fly Merelan anywhere on Pern she wanted to go whenever she needed transport.Then she had to excuse herself to give a lesson, but she saw F'lon and Robinton to the entrance, where she assured F'lon she'd take him up on his offer.

"That is, if you're allowed," she said, glancing up at the tall young rider with a mischievous look in her eyes.

"I don't have much else to do.Even this', he told her, gesturing around the Harper Hall court, "is sort of work.We have to know how to get to any place on Pern, so actually, this is seen as a legitimate visit.I can come as often as I like."

F'lon had increased his assertiveness, Robinton noticed, exchanging a knowing glance with his mother.

"You can drum me if I'm needed," F'lon said, awarding Rob another of his affectionate punches before he leaped to Simanith's raised forearm and vaulted from there to the bronze's back.

"He's very much the rider, isn't he?" Merelan murmured to her son as they both waved farewell."What a charming lad." "You used to call him a devil, Mother," Robinton said chidingly.

"Shortening his name will have made no change to his essential nature, love.In fact, it's probably compounded the problem," she said tersely."But I like it in him that he would honour that promise to you." She gave his arm a final squeeze and a gentle push towards the workroom and his interrupted session.

Master Gennell did pause on his way to the head table to enquire if the visitor had been Robinton's friend at Benden Weyr.Robinton apologized for the interruption.

"No need, lad, not when a dragonrider favours you with his company."

Petiron, whose rehearsal had been interrupted by the dragon's arrival, scowled at him, but Robinton looked away as if he hadn't seen.It wasn't as if he had asked F'lon to visit.He disliked being discourteous to anyone, especially his own father, but he had learned painfully that anything he did annoyed his father, even when he did nothing.He tried not to remember things his roommates had said about their fathers, and special things their fathers had done for, and, more importantly in Rob's eyes, with, them.

Harpers, of course, were different, and he shouldn't judge one by another's standards.Yet…that didn't make it easier being his father's son.

He completed all his projects and passed all the examinations that would promote him to the rank of journeyman by the time he was halfway through his third Turn of training.Of course, he had had a head start, having begun his training so much sooner than any of the other lads in his group, who learned to come to him for help with any difficulties in their studies or their projects.Not even Lear teased him about his competence because, by the time they reached Third with him, they knew all about his problems with his father, and Sympathized, and they all adored his mother.That was easier for Robinton to deal with: he adored her, too.But he knew, if his father didn't, that every performance took more out of her than it should.He even took his worry to MasterHealer Ginia, when Maizella told him his mother had fainted after one intense rehearsal prior to the Spring Equinox Gather at Fort.

"I really don't know what's ailing her, Rob," Ginia said, frowning slightly, "though I've made her promise to take the remainder of the summer off and rest.Let Petiron handle whatever vocal training has to be done? ' She shot him a searching look."Or you." Her expression softened and she patted his hand."You almost do anyway, from what I've heard."

Robinton sat up straighter in the chair, alarmed.All he needed was for his father to know about his coaching some of the chorus…

"Now, don't fret.Your father notices only what he wishes, and he certainly has not seen what's happening to Merelan."

"But you don't know what is happening," Robinton protested.

"I know that she needs rest, a lack of tension, you know how your mother is before a performance, learning new music…" He nodded, because she often worked herself as hard bringing the soloists up to the level Petiron expected as he did his instrumentalists and chorus.

"I think a summer down in South Boll with her family, with absolutely no performances and responsibilities, will see her right.

It has been a very hard winter."

She patted Robinton's hand again."You're a good son, Rob, and your concern does you credit.Now, I'll keep you informed, but you help me in getting her to take a good long rest, will you?"

"Have you spoken to Master Gennell?"

"Repeatedly," Ginia said, pursing her full mouth with indignation.

But we all know that the Spring Equinox is important in our calendar and had better go off with no problems…" She rose, a signal that their interview was at an end, and smiled at him."You should go with her and be sure she eats well and rests every day."

"I'll try." And he'd take F'lon up on his offer to fly MasterSinger Merelan anywhere.

As it happened, he didn't go with his mother: his father did.

Merelan collapsed after singing the exacting solo at the end of the Equinox Ceremony, and Petiron could no longer ignore the fact that his spouse was ill.

Robinton did send the drum message, requesting F'lon's assistance, and he did help his mother on to Simanith's back.He had to step away as his father mounted behind her.The fact that his father looked distinctly nervous, anxious and worried did not at all alleviate his own fears for her.Just this once, he sent his thoughts at his father, just this once, think of her first!

An hour later, F'lon returned and, over a cool juice drink and more of Lorra's light pastries, gave details of how he had installed Merelan in the cliffside dwelling with its splendid view of the sea, and how Petiron had hovered like an old wherry, fussing until F'lon was sure he'd drive Merelan insane with his attentions.Her youngest sister had appealed to her spouse to take the man away and let Merelan rest, and promised to see that Merelan did do so.

"She was upset when she saw your mother.I remember her being slight at Benden but not…not…frail," F'lon said, glancing at Lorra, who nodded.

"I spoke to Ginia, and she believes that a full summer off will restore my mother's health." Even as Rob spoke, he caught Lorra and F'lon exchanging glances."Now, look, if there's something I should know, tell me.She's my mother!I have a right to know."

Lorra turned to him, making a sudden decision."Ginia doesn't know, so what can she tell you?But she's hoping the rest will help.

Merelan has never been very strong…"

"You mean, after giving birth to a big lug like me?" Robinton demanded.He had overheard his father complaining that having a child had seriously damaged her.

"You weren't that big at birth, for all of you now," Lorra said in her droll fashion, "so don't cover yourself with midden dung in guilty reparation.You have never been at fault." She cleared her throat, realizing that her emphasis implied that she knew who was.

"Merelan's always lived on nerve.It's the energy she uses to sing and perform at the level she does that drains her so.But there comes a time in a woman's life when she isn't as resilient as she was in her twenties."

"Mother would die if she couldn't sing…"

"It's unlikely to come to that," Lorra said sharply."But she certainly will have to cut back on these exhausting performances.

It isn't as if Maizella's not capable; or he can write for Halanna, who'd be only too happy to take on Merelan's First Singer duties." Her eyes flashed, and Robinton couldn't resist chuckling at her comment about Halanna."Your father needs a scare like this," she went on."He takes Merelan too much for granted."

"She's really the only one capable of singing some of his scores," Robinton said, oddly on the defensive.

"Well, he can just write simpler.Anyway, your songs are the ones anyone can sing and enjoy, Rob." When he started to demur, she flicked her fingers at him."Oh, I know, I know, but it's the truth, isn't it, dragonrider?"

F'lon grinned, nodding vehemently.Then he rose, brushing pastry flakes from his lips and off his undershirt.

"Any time you want to visit her, give me a roll," he said, beginning to close the fastening on his jacket."I've got to hunt Simanith on the way back."

When Merelan returned to the Harper Hall in the autumn, she was sun-browned and appeared much restored.Petiron continued to be solicitous and, as Robinton heard Master Bosler remark to a journeyman, he seemed to have mellowed.Well he might have mellowed towards others, Robinton realized later, but never towards him.In fact, if anything, Petiron ignored his son more thoroughly than even There were not even any of the usual pithy complaints leveled at the baritone section.But then, because Robinton was more or less the leader of that section, Petiron had no real cause for complaint.Everyone did better than their best at all times, as a sort of aid to keep him from his father's shafts of criticism.Petiron did smile more frequently, if mainly at the sopranos and altos, and he did praise the trebles more often.

Merelan still coached his soloists, but she was given fewer voices to train.

Master Gennell called Robinton in one morning two seven-days after his parents' return.Sensitive to appearances now, Robinton thought the MasterHarper looked tired, as well as older.

"You've turned fifteen now, haven't you, Rob?" Gennell began.

Robinton nodded."So how are we going to keep you busy this term?"

The question shook Robinton and he shifted nervously in the chair "I'm not sure what you mean, sir' He paused, cleared his throat, and then blurted out, "Theory and composition are usually third term…"

"Ah, my lad, you've mastered those long since.I saw the orchestral piece you did for Washell, and none of us can fault it." Gennell smiled reassuringly.Then his expression altered."But I cannot assign you to your father's class.And I must find suitable studies for you."

Robinton closed his eyes in relief at the knowledge that he would not have to endure a class with his father.

"I'll be plain, Rob, I've never understood your father's antipathy towards you, yet there's never been a word of complaint from you."

"He's my father, Master Gennell…"

"Well, we won't go into that any further since, in effect, the entire Hall has fostered you, and your talent." When Robinton ducked his head with embarrassment, Master Gennell prodded his knee."Modesty is all very well and good, Robinton, but don't let it get in your way."

Robinton didn't know what to do and looked around the comfortable office for inspiration.His glance caught the map with its little coloured pegs signifying the position of journeymen and Masters across the continent.There were many places without pegs, which meant they were waiting to be assigned a harper.

"Sir, I like teaching," he said, pointing to the map, "and I've had good results with those I've tutored."

"Not that all those unassigned holdings would accept a harper if I had one to assign them," Gennell said drolly.And when Robinton looked apprehensive, he added with a sigh, "There are some holds who profess not to require the services we provide."

"I find that hard to believe," Robinton said, appalled.Not want to learn how to read, and write, and reckon?How could people get along in life without such basic skills?

"Believe it, Rob," Gennell said, shifting in his chair "At least, since there are so many still who do, we're not in any danger of going empty the way the Weyrs did." He cleared his throat, and moved records about on his desk."You may discover that not everyone respects harpers as we would like them to.However, to a happier topic, would you take on a purely teaching assignment?"

Robinton shifted again, this time with excitement.He knew his room-mates thought him daft to enjoy teaching, lighting the dim-wits, they called it.But Robinton never saw the task as a chore.He looked for the end result, the bright smile of understanding on a student's face when knowledge suddenly seeped in.

"I think I'd like that, sir." He took a surreptitious glance at the map but then realized a fact."But, Master Gennell, who's going to take instruction from someone only fifteen?I know I'm well grown, but…" He flicked his hands out in a helpless gesture.

"If you're assigned to work under a more experienced teacher, you'd be welcome anywhere," Gennell said, rubbing his chin, "especially if you promise me to continue writing those songs and ballads."

Robinton flushed."I can't seem to stop writing them," he said meekly.

"Good.We need to freshen up the repertoire with catchy tunes and musical nonsense.People like to whistle a tune, like to sing a new song and find harmonies.You're good at that.I expect you to continue."

"As long as it's all right…" Robinton said in an almost unintelligible murmur.

"It is more than "all right", Robinton, it is essential.Now, stop colouring up like a glowbasket.Learn to take honest praise with the same dignity with which you've received criticism." Abruptly, Gennell cleared his throat."Well, that's decided, but I wanted to know if you wished to stay on in the Hall.We'd find something to keep you busy if you did, though your mother's much better since she came back."

Robinton met Master Gennell's concerned grey eyes and gave a grateful smile."I'm your apprentice, sir; you can assign me where you will.Where I'd do some good." What he didn't add hung in the air: Because I can't do any good here.

"Well then, that's settled.I'll see who can use an assistant harper."

Robinton was still trying to absorb this astonishing news when he found himself out in the corridor.

To be utterly truthful, he looked forward to leaving the Harper Hall and getting away from the constant censorious glances of his father.Privately he thought this was what cher, you'd be welcome anywhere," Gennell said, rubbing his chin, "especially if you promise me to continue writing those songs and ballads."

Robinton flushed."I can't seem to stop writing them," he said meekly.

"Good.We need to freshen up the repertoire with catchy tunes and musical nonsense.People like to whistle a tune, like to sing a new song and find harmonies.You're good at that.I expect you to continue."

"As long as it's all right…" Robinton said in an almost unintelligible murmur.

"It is more than "all right,” Robinton, it is essential.Now, stop colouring up like a glowbasket.Learn to take honest praise with the same dignity with which you've received criticism." Abruptly, Gennell cleared his throat."Well, that's decided, but I wanted to know if you wished to stay on in the Hall.We'd find something to keep you busy if you did, though your mother's much better since she came back."

Robinton met Master Gennell's concerned grey eyes and gave a grateful smile."I'm your apprentice, sir; you can assign me where you will.Where I'd do some good." What he didn't add hung in the air: Because I can't do any good here.

"Well then, that's settled.I'll see who can use an assistant harper."

Robinton was still trying to absorb this astonishing news when he found himself out in the corridor.

To be utterly truthful, he looked forward to leaving the Harper Hall and getting away from the constant censorious glances of his father.Privately he thought this was what was eating away at his mother: the tension and having to placate his father all the time.He wanted to get on with his own life, without constraint and with an enthusiasm he wasn't able to give scope to here in the Harper Hall.

He'd really enjoy being away, and as Master Gennell had promised to keep him informed about his mother's health, he could go with an easy conscience.It'd be so much better for her, too, if she didn't have to worry about him, had a reason to be proud of him.

He went back to putting the final coat of varnish on the lap harp he was making.He would take that with him, he thought, though originally he had made it to sell.He had already earned quite a few marks at Gathers with his output.When Master Jerint asked him what the MasterHarper had wanted him for, Robinton shrugged it off."Next term's duties," he said, which had the advantage of being the truth.

Robinton had become so adept at keeping emotions to himself that it had become a habit.And though he yearned to tell his mother, he knew she was busy with lessons this afternoon.He'd just have to hold his good news in.It was something to relish, anyway.As relieved as he was that he wouldn't have to take Theory under his father, he was most excited at the prospect of leaving the Hall on his first official assignment.He also knew he'd had a hint of something the oldest apprentices would die to hear: he suspected that Master Gennell was about to reveal who would walk the tables, the best of all the traditions in the Harper Hall.The announcement of who had made journeyman rank could be any day now; there was a lot of talk about its imminence in the dorms.

Sometimes the lucky ones were warned to pack what they'd need, but just as often no clue at all was given until Master Gennell called out the names.That was always a great evening.The Masters loved to surprise the fourths, make them sweat a little before giving them the reward for four turns' work.At least he'd have time to warn his mother of his leaving; but he knew she'd be pleased for him.Even being assigned as assistant harper was an honour.

Robinton paused in his varnishing, whooshing the fumes away from his nose.The reek was stifling.

"That's the ticket," Master Bosler said, pausing by Robinton's work station.He gave him a quick pat on the back."One of the nicer ones with all that careful inlaid pattern.And the skybroom wood!Very good!We can get a good price for it at the next Gather."

"With skybroom wood hard to come by, I think I might just keep it for a while," Robinton said, watching Bosler's expression.Would the Master have an idea of Robinton's immediate future?He knew that Master Gennell listened to the opinions of his Masters.As an apprentice, Robinton's studies were governed by what all the Masters, probably his father, too, thought of his progress, so maybe Master Bosler was aware of his good news.But no, the lined face and keen eyes did not alter.

So much for that, Robinton thought and, with a smile for his Master, he went back to applying the varnish.He wasn't using a quick-drying type because he wanted to avoid any brush strokes.

By dinner-time, his mood had swung in the opposite direction and his stomach was churning.Maybe it had been Petiron's idea in the first place, removing the unwanted son from the Hall?His father was more likely to suggest he go drudge for someone in a back-of-beyond small hold, too far away for him to take time off and come back to the Hall.It'd be ironic if Robinton was assigned to Master Ricardy at Fort Hold.He already had three assistants and another, elderly harper who did nothing but entertain for the old aunties and uncles of the Hold.No, definitely, Master Gennell wanted him to help teach.That had been the crux of the interview: would he be willing to teach?

Though the dinner was one of Lorra's better ones, Robinton found himself unable to eat, a fact immediately noted by his table companions who were well aware of his voracious appetite.

"Inhaling varnish all afternoon has put me off," he offered as explanation.

Falawny gave him a startled look."First time in three turns it ever has," he remarked."Ah, well, more for us certainly, eh, fellows?" And he speared a third slice of roast from the platter being passed.

Robinton hadn't seen any packs in the hallway, so no one had been warned that tonight might be the night to walk tables.He sneaked a glance at the fourth-term table; judging by the way dinner was being consumed, their appetites weren't affected.

Determinedly, he mopped his bread in the gravy and ate that, though his stomach toiled with either hunger or nerves.He actually hadn't had all that much experience with either condition.He'd never gone hungry, and he refused to let himself get nervous just over a hunch that tonight might be the night.

He shifted about on his chair a lot, shooting glances at his mother, but she was busy either eating, quite normally, or chatting with Master Washell and his father, who bracketed her at the head table.Well, maybe she hadn't been told.

Because he spent so much of the dinner-time looking about the dining hall, he did notice that Journeyman Shonagar was seated to one side.But there was nothing especially unusual about Shonagar's presence: journeymen were constantly in and out of the all on errands, on reassignments, or to ask advice of their Masters.

The sweet and klah had been served, and Robinton managed to get those down with no trouble.

Then he heard a chair being shoved back and Master Gennell was on his feet, tapping his glass for attention.The room was already still, breaths universally bated.

"Ah, I see that I have your attention." His grin swept from the Masters' tables, across the journeymen's and towards the apprentices.

"So, Master Washell, send out for the extra chairs."

This task was customarily done by the first-term apprentices, who scurried out and rattled back in, each carrying a chair which they set in the spaces the journeymen made at their tables.Twelve!

Now, who would be seated in them in the next few minutes."?There were nineteen in the final term of their apprenticeship.All of them managed to look calm and indifferent, as befitted trained harpers.

It was also the custom for those who walked to be escorted ritually from their lowly apprentice bench to a chair at the journeymen's tables.

Gennell took a list from his pocket and pretended to have trouble reading it.

"Journeyman Kailey."

The former apprentice jumped to his feet, and a grinning journeyman instructor immediately strode across the room during the applause.Then everyone had the beat and began the traditional sing-song chant: "Walk, Kailey, walk.It's time to go ahead.Walk, Kailey, walk.Into your new life.Walk, Kailey, walk."

"You'll be going to Wide Bay Hold in Keroon," Gennell said, his voice rising easily above the chanting and the clapping.

And so it went for the next ten as well, ending with the popular Evenek who had two journeymen jostling each other good-naturedly to do the honours.Evenek's lyrical tenor voice had often been matched with Merelan in duets, and now she clapped loudly at the announcement of his assignment to Telgar Hold, a prestigious posting.

That left one chair, and eight more possible journeymen.

Gennell waited until Evenek was seated and had been congratulated by those around him.

"To be a harper requires many talents, as you all know.Some of us are endowed unfairly' he put in, grinning charmingly around, ‘with more than a sufficient share."

Robinton looked over those remaining at the fourth-term tables.

Really, Kailey and Evenek had been the top men: none of the others were "unfairly' talented.

"However, when the fundamentals of our craft have been well and truly learned, I insist that we hold no one back from the rank they are entitled to by knowledge and ability and, in this case, rare talent."

The room was buzzing: everyone trying to decide who the lucky one was.The fourth-termers were just as puzzled.

"Journeyman Shonagar, you claimed this right when you left the Harper Hall two Turns ago.Exercise it."

Every head turned to watch Shonagar rise and, with the wicked half-grin for which he was well known, walk with measured step down the aisle to the third-term table.

When Shonagar stopped by him, Robinton felt paralyzed.His mouth dropped and his eyes nearly bugged out.

"Shut your mouth, pull your eyes in, and get up," Shonagar muttered in an undertone."That gets you even, the only way you could." Even as he spoke to Robinton, Shonagar's grin widened at the surprise and shock which had hushed the hall.

Robinton was still trying to assimilate what he'd just heard, his name announced as journeyman - when Shonagar plunged a hand under his arm and, with a heave, got Robinton to his feet."Walk.Walk, Robinton!" With that, Shonagar turned him and started propelling him to the journeymen's table."Walk, Robinton, walk."

"And none too soon," Master Washell shouted, jumping to his feet and smacking his big hands together over his head, urging people to join him.Bosler stood, clapping in rhythm with the reluctant journeyman's stride.Betrice was up, as were the other Masters at the table, Ogolly and Severeid, and the kitchen workers crowded in at the serving doors, adding their noise to the general furor.The only two not on their feet were Robinton's parents: his mother was weeping, and his father seemed to be too stunned and stony-faced to move.Robinton knew then, as Shonagar had told him, that he had got back at his father in the only decent way he could, by success.

"Walk, Robinton, walk."

Unashamed of the tears streaming down his face and swallowing the lump in his throat, Robinton walked the tables, bearing himself as proudly as he could despite the tendency of his knees to wobble.

Still steering him, Shonagar pushed him past the head table.

Through her tears his mother shot him an exultant look and a weak smile before she had to wipe her cheeks again.Neither of them looked at Petiron.

Installed in the final chair, Robinton was still shaking so badly that he could barely accept the congratulations of the other new journeymen.He noticed that they all had rank knots on their shoulders, and then he felt Shonagar slip one up his arm and to his shoulder.

"Journeyman Robinton will go to Master Lobira at High Reaches, where it's hoped this sensible fellow will keep Master Lobira out of more trouble," Gennell announced, and then called for glasses and wine for the new journeymen.Sometime in that interval Petiron slipped from the room, but Merelan did not.And that was as it should be, Robinton thought.