The Masterharper of Pern

CHAPTER TWO

Petiron was working on his latest score, when a soft noise distracted him.Listening, he could hear it coming from the other room.Merelan had stepped out on an errand; Robinton was having his nap.

The faint noise was an echo of the theme he was hastily inscribing before he lost it - he didn't realize that he had been humming it as he worked.Irritated, he looked around for the source of the mimicry.

And found his son awake in the trundle bed and humming.

"Don't do that, Robinton," he said in exasperation.

His son pulled the light blanket up to his chin."You were," he said.

"I was what?"

"You hummmmdded."

"I may, you may not!" And Petiron shook his finger right in the boy's face so that Robinton pulled the blanket over his head.

Petiron pulled it down and leaned over the little bed."Don't you ever mimic me like that.Don't you ever interrupt me when I'm working.D'you hear that?"

"Whatever did he do, Petiron?" Merelan exclaimed, rushing into the room and hovering protectively at the head of the cot."He was sound asleep when I left.What's been going on?" Robinton, who rarely cried, was weeping, stuffing the end of the blanket into his mouth as the tears crept down his cheeks.The tears were more than Merelan could endure, and she picked up her sobbing son and cradled him, reassuring him.

Petiron glared at her."He was humming while I was writing."

"You do; why shouldn't he?"

"But I was writing!How can I work when he does that?He knows he's not to interrupt me."

"He's a child, Petiron.He picks up on anything he hears and repeats it."

"Well, I'm not having him humming along with me," Petiron said, not the least bit mollified.

"Why shouldn't he if you wake him up?"

"How can I possibly work if you're both interrupting me all the time?" He flung up his arms and stalked out of the bedroom."Do take him somewhere else.I can't have him singing in the background."

Merelan was already halfway across the sitting room, her crying son in her arms."Then you won't have him in the background at all," she said in a parting shot.

"I don't know when I've been more annoyed with him," she told Betrice, who was fortunately in her apartment when Merelan tapped at her door.

"I don't suppose he noticed that the child hums on key," Betrice said in her droll fashion, clearing the mending from the padded rocker so that Merelan could sit and calm her child.

Merelan blinked at Betrice and then began to chuckle."I'm certain he would have mentioned it if Robie were off-key.That would have been injury added to insult." Then she paused."You know, Robie hums along with me when I do my vocalizes.I hadn't realized it before.There now, little love." And she dried Robie's eyes with an edge of the blanket he was still clutching to his mouth.

"Your father didn't really mean to yell at you…"

"Ha!" was Betrice's soft response.

"But we do have to be quiet when your father's working at home."

"He has his own studio…" Betrice put in.

"Washell borrowed it to speak to those parents who wandered in unannounced."

"Only Washell could get away with that."

"So, my little love, we'll have to learn to keep our hummings to just you and me from now on.And let Father get on with his important work."

"Ha!More of his incomprehensible, meaningful and significant musical conundrums.Ooops, sorry!" Betrice covered her lips with an unrepentant hand."I know he's the most important composer in the last two centuries, Merelan, but could he not once contrive a simple tune that anyone - besides his own son - could sing?" She rose and walked to the wall cupboard, where she opened one door.

Merelan regarded Betrice without rancour."He does rather complicated scores, doesn't he?" Then she smiled mischievously."He just likes to embellish."

"Oh, is that what it's called?Give me a simple tune that I can't get out of my mind!" Betrice said.Having found what she wanted, she returned to Merelan."But we both know I'm a musical idiot, for all the MasterHarper and I have been espoused now thirty turns.Here you are, my fine lad.Much more appetizing than blanket to chew on." And she handed Robinton a sweet stick."I believe you prefer peppermint."

The tears were nearly dry, but the gift brought the winsome smile back and a clear "t'ank you' from the recipient.He pushed himself straighter on Merelan's lap, accepted the offering and leaned back against his mother's comforting body as he sucked happily on the sweet.

"I'm not criticizing Petiron, Merelan," Betrice said earnestly.

Merelan smiled gently."You say nothing that isn't the truth, but he's much easier to deal with, generally speaking, when he's composing."

"Which seems to be often…"

Merelan laughed."Petiron naturally complicates things.It's a knack he has," she said indulgently.

"Humph!He's a very lucky man to have such an understanding mate," Betrice said emphatically, "as well as one who can sing what he writes as easily as she breathes."

"Ssssh." Merelan put a finger to her lips."Sometimes I have to work very hard to keep up with him." "Never!" Betrice pretended disbelief, then grinned broadly at the MasterSinger.

"It's true, nevertheless, but," and Merelan's expression softened with pride, "it's wonderful to have such challenging music to sing."

Betrice pointed to Robie, happily stickying up fingers, face and blanket."What are you going to do about him?"

"Well, first off, I shall see that Master Washell never has need of Petiron's studio again," Merelan replied, her usually serene expression resolute, "and I shan't leave the pair of them together unless I'm positive Robie's fast asleep."

"That sort of limits you, doesn't it?" Betrice asked with a snort.

Merelan shrugged."In a Turn or so, Robie will be in with the other Hall children during the day.It's a small enough sacrifice to make for him.Isn't it, love?"

"It's all too true," Betrice said with a wistful sigh."They're young such a short time - even if it feels like an age while they're growing up and away from you." She sighed again.

Merelan felt something sticky on her arm and, looking down at her son, saw that the sweet had fallen from his hand.

"Will you look at this?" she said softly, peering with a loving smile at the thick lashes closed on his cheek.

"Here, put him on the day-bed."

"I don't mind holding him," Merelan protested."You've work to do."

"Nothing I can't do while minding a sleeping child.Go on off and do something by yourself for a change.If you aren't tending him…” she pointed to Robinton "… you're minding him." Her finger jerked in the direction of Merelan's quarters.

"If you don't mind…"

"Not at all.Unless you want to help with my mending?"

Betrice chuckled over the alacrity with which Merelan rose.

When Robie was well into his third Turn, he picked up a small pipe which had been left on the table.It wasn't his father's, because Robie knew his father did not actually play a pipe or a flute.And since this wasn't his father's belonging, he could touch it - and experiment with it.He blew in it, masking the holes with his fingers as he had seen others do.When the tones that came out were not similar to the ones so effortlessly made by other players, Robie tried different ways until he could make the proper sounds… as quietly as he could.

He did not know, of course, that his mother's well-attuned ear heard his initial attempts.Since they improved as he continued, she was inordinately pleased.Sometimes, despite a strong musical tradition in a family, there was one born who was tone-deaf or totally disinclined to do much about an innate ability.She had wondered how she would be able to placate Petiron if his son turned out to be musically incompetent.Because one way or another, Petiron would be determined to impart suitable musical training to his only child.Now she did not have to worry about that.Her son was not only inclined to musical experimentation; he also had a good ear and, it would seem, perfect pitch.

When Petiron was busy with students, Merelan would often whistle simple tunes within her son's hearing.Petiron did not like her whistling - possibly because he couldn't, but more likely because he felt that girls shouldn't.Despite loving him so much, she privately admitted that his attitudes made no sense to her: like taking against whistling because he couldn't and she was female.

Robie picked up the tunes she whistled as effortlessly as he had learned the scales on the pipe.When he started doing variations on the airs, she had to restrain herself.She wanted desperately to tell Petiron that his son was musical, but she did not want her three-Turn-old son suddenly rushed into training.It could turn the boy off music entirely.Petiron was marvellous with the older lads, but far too strict for the youngest apprentices.She worried about the zeal with which he would train Robinton.

So one afternoon she asked Washell, the Master who taught the youngest, to help her with the dynamics in a quartet they were both rehearsing for TurnOver.A jovial, easy-going man in his sixth decade with a rich deep bass voice, he arrived with some cakes just out of the Hall ovens and a fresh pot of klah.

"So why is it that you really want to see me, Merelan?" he asked after she had profusely thanked him for the refreshments and served them."The day you can't carry your own part in anything Petiron writes, I'll resign my Mastery."

"Oh, but I do need help, Wash," she said airily."Robie, come see what Master Washell has brought us!" She hadn't needed to call him.The delectable aroma of warm pastry had wafted into the next room, where he had been flat on his stomach, making doodles in a sand-tray that had been a recent gift from his mother - a preparation to teaching him his letters and, possibly, the scales.

"I "mell "em," he said, still not quite able to pronounce the sibilants with the gap in his front baby teeth."I "mell "era.T'ank you, Master Wa'ell."

"My pleasure, young "un."

Merelan's stage setting was complete."Here!" she said briskly.

"This measure where the tempo changes so rapidly - I'm not sure I've the beat correctly.Robie, give me an A, please."

Washell’s grey brows went up to his balding head and his eyes glittered as Robie produced the tiny pipe from his trouser waistband and played the required note.

Then Merelan sang the troublesome measures, deliberately shortening the full quality of one whole note.Robie shook his head and with his fingers beat out the appropriate time.

"If you've got it right, m'lad, you play it the way I should sing it," Merelan said casually.

Young Robinton played the entire measure and Washell -who looked first at Merelan and then at her son - folded his hands across his stomach and caught her eyes, nodding with comprehension.

"Thank you, dear.That was well done," Merelan said, and she allowed Robinton to have a second cake.He stuffed his pipe away under his trouser waistband and sat on the little stool to eat the cake.

"Indeed, and I couldn't have done better myself, young Robinton," Washell said solemnly."You played that perfectly, young man.I'm glad that your mother has you here to keep her strictly in tempo.Do you know any other tunes on that pipe?"

Robie glanced at his mother for permission.She nodded, and he licked his lips free of crumbs, lifted the pipe to his mouth and began to play one of his own favourites.When he had finished, he gave his mother a second look.

"Yes, go on," she said with a little flick of her fingers.

He looked for a moment at Washell, who knew enough to keep his expression polite, and then the boy closed his eyes and started the round of variations he liked to wind about that tune.

Washell bent his head down over his heavy chest until he was peering directly at Robinton, who was now oblivious, wrapped up in his piping, fingers dancing, stopping, busy over the little pipe's holes.The instrument was small and could have produced an unpleasantly shrill sound, but the way the youngster handled his breathing and instinctive dynamics sweetened it to a delightful lilt.

As one variation followed another, Washell cocked his head in amazement and gradually turned his eyes to Merelan, who was totally relaxed as if this performance were a daily marvel.

Suddenly the muted sounds of the choristers ended.Immediately, Merelan leaped forward and tapped Robinton out of his concentration.

He looked almost rebellious.

"That was a very good one," his mother said, casually appreciative.

"New, isn't it?"

"I s'ought it up as I was playing," he said and then glanced coyly up at Washell."It fitted in."

"Yes, dear, it did," Merelan replied agreeably."The trills were very well done."

"Nice to have a pipe just the right size for you, isn't it?" Washell began, extending his hand for the instrument.Robinton, with a touch of reluctance, handed it over.Washell tried to put his large fingers over the stops and ran out of pipe, looking so surprised that Robinton giggled, covering his mouth and glancing quickly at his mother to be sure this was acceptable behaviour."Maybe you'd like to see some of the other instruments I have that might also be the right size for a lad like you to play on.This one is much too small for me, isn't it?" And Washell handed it back with a little flourish.

Robinton grinned up at the big man and tucked his pipe back under the waistband, out of sight under his loose shirt.

"I think you could manage to get the pitcher and the cake-plate back down to the kitchen, couldn't you, Robie dear?" Merelan asked, rising to open the door as she spoke.

"Can.Will.Bye." And he walked quite sedately down the hallway with his burden as Merelan closed the door.

"Yes, my dear Merelan, you do have a problem growing up here.

May I extend you my compliments as well as my assistance?If we move patiently, what is an astonishing natural talent can be nurtured.I admire Petiron in many matters, Singer, but…" Washell sighed with a rueful smile."He can be single-minded to the point of irrationality.He will of course be delighted to discover his son's musicality, but quite frankly, my dear, I would be sorry to be that son when he does.Which is obviously why you have sent for me, and I take that as the highest compliment you could pay me."

"Petiron will push him too far and too fast…"

"Therefore we will lay the groundwork carefully, so that his father's tuition will not be the sudden shock it could be."

"I feel so…treacherous, going behind Petiron's back like this," Merelan said, "but I know what he's like, and Robie loves to make music.I don't want that to be taken from him."

Washell reached across and patted her nervously drumming fingers.

"My dear, we can put Petirons single-mindedness to our advantage.I gather he has no idea that the boy has learned to pipe?"

Merelan shook her head.

"Right now, of course," he went on, "he's up to his inky fingers with TurnOver music to write and the rehearsals and then the Spring Gathers, and I shall have a word with Gennell myself about this.If you permit?"

She nodded.

"Why, I do believe the entire Hall could be in on the secret education of our burgeoning young genius…"

"Genius?" Merelan's hand went to her throat.

"Of course, Robinton's a musical genius and, though I've never encountered one before in my decades here, I can certainly recognize one when I get the chance.Petiron's good, but he is not quite in the same class as his son."

"Oh!" The little exclamation she let slip before she guarded her mouth with her hand was far more eloquent than she intended.

"A child who can tootle that ridiculous little pipe into the sweetest tone and then produce rather sophisticated variations on a simple theme at three Turns is, unquestionably, a genius.And we must all protect him."

"Oh!Protect him?Petiron's not a monster, Washell…" She shook her head vigorously.

"No, of course he isn't, but he does have rather strong views about his competence and achievements.On the other hand, what else could he expect of a child from such a fine musicalbackground, who is being raised in the Harper Hall with music all around him?"

"Not all the Hall children are musical by virtue of their environment," Merelan said in a droll tone.

"But when one is, as your Robinton, there couldn't be a better environment, and we shall see that the matter is handled as diplomatically and…kindly as possible.I give you my hand on that, MasterSinger Merelan." He held it out and she took it gladly, the relief - and even her guilt at the promised subterfuge - easily read by Master Washell."We'll do no more than what the lad is able, and willing, to absorb.Ease him gently' - his thick fingers rippled descriptively - "into the discipline so that when' - and he clapped his hands together - "we suddenly discover that this five…maybe six Turn-old lad is so musically inclined, why, we can be as surprised and delighted as Petiron will be."

"But won't Petiron be at all suspicious when he discovers how much Robie already knows?"

Washell raised his arm in a broad gesture."Why, the boy absorbed it from his parents, of course.Why would he not, with two such talented musicians?"

"Oh, come now, Washell.Petiron is scarcely stupid…"

"With musical scores and instruments all around…you'll doubtless mention that you've heard him humming tunes now and then on key.That you gave him the little pipe, and a drum, since he begged for them.Bosler will say he only thought to amuse the lad one afternoon while you were busy with rehearsing and taught him how to place his fingers on the gitar strings…It won't be hard to get our MasterArchivist to connive to teach the boy more than his letters…And we'll all be so amazed that Petiron will have such a student to bring on.He's always better with the quicker students, you know.They don't try his patience the way the younger or slower ones do." Thoroughly pleased with the plot he was spinning, Washell once more patted Merelan's hands reassuringly.Then, abruptly, he pulled the quartet sheet between them."Beat it out one more time, Merelan, as I sing the bass line.You should…"

The door opened, and there were Petiron and Robinton.

"I really do think, Petiron, that you write some passages just to tease me," she said."And did you get the plate and pitcher safely down to Lorra, dear?"

"I did, Mother."

"Well, then, off with you, Rob," his father said, giving his son a slight push towards the other room."Why you should have any trouble with the tempo surprises me, Merelan"

"Because your scribbling is almost unreadable, Petiron," Washell said firmly, his bass voice rumbling in mock rebuke."See here?" His thick index finger pounded the culprit measure."One can barely see the dot.No wonder Merelan was having difficulty with the beat when she couldn't even see the dot after the half note.It's clearly marked on my copy, but not on this."

Petiron peered down at the offending score."It is a little faint at that.Sing it for me." And he gave her the upbeat.

Washell could not resist singing the bass line as Merelan faultlessly sang hers.

"You did help, Wash, thank you so much," she said."And thank you for bringing along the cakes and klah."

"My pleasure, MasterSinger."

Harper and Healer Halls, allowed young Robie into her classes before his fourth Turn began.

"He's well advanced as far as wanting to learn, Merelan," the woman said."I could wish half my class were at the same level, but I'll give him little extra musical-type things to do while the others are catching up."

Then there was a morning when Kubisa brought a bloody-nosed, sobbing Robinton back to his mother for aid and comfort.

"Oh, Robie," Merelan said, folding her weeping child in her arms while Kubisa busied herself getting a wet cloth to clean his face.

"They wuz hurting' him," Robie sobbed.

"Hurting who?" Merelan asked, more of Kubisa than her son.

"I'll say this for Robie, he may be young and small, but he knows who needs his protection."

"Who needs it?" his mother asked, carefully mopping away the blood.

"The watchwher," Kubisa said.

Merelan paused, surprised and beginning to feel more pride than concern.The apprentices were not above sticking bright glows into the Harper Hall watchwher's lair to make the light-sensitive creature cry.Or throwing him noxious things, knowing the creature would eat just about anything that came within the range of its chair.Rob would always run and tell an adult if he saw such antics.

"Were they being mean to the poor beast again?"

Sniffing, he nodded his head up and down."I made "em stop, but one of "em busted me one."

"So I see," his mother murmured.

"Some of the beastholder children who really ought to know better," Kubisa said."I'll have a word with their parents, now that I've delivered Rob to you." She patted his head."I'd pick on someone my size, next time.Or better still, have your father teach you how to duck."

Grinning, she left the apartment.

"I can teach you how to duck, my brave lad," Merelan said, hugging him again, knowing that such training did not fall in Petiron's scope of paternal duties."I used to be able to beat some of my big brothers and cousins when I got going."

"You?" Robie's eyes widened at the very notion of his mother beating anything, much less big brothers and cousins.

So she gave him his first lesson in hand-to-hand combat, and showed him how best to head-butt an assailant."It keeps you from having bloody noses, too, if you use your head in a right."

That daily respite of his hours with Kubisa gave Merelan a rest from constantly being alert to intervene between her son and his father.The subterfuge she had to practise was wearing on her nerves.However, she, and Kubisa, could at least honestly report Robie's excellent conduct and progress in school.

"And you're learning all the Teaching Ballads?" Petiron asked absently.

"Yes, and I can prove it." Robinton wanted so desperately to please his father, but he never seemed able to, however hard he tried to be good, obedient, courteous and, most of all, quiet.

Somewhat surprised at his son's tone of voice, Petiron leaned back in his chair.With an indolent and supercilious wave of his hand, he indicated that Robie should perform.

Merelan held her breath, unable to think of a single thing to say to postpone Petiron's discovery of his son's talent.

Robie took a breath, properly, not gasping air into his lungs as so many novices did, and then launched into a note-perfect rendition of the Duty Song.Petiron did look a trifle surprised at the firmness of tone the boy projected in his treble voice.Petiron did beat the time with one finger on the armrest, but he listened with a much less disdainful expression on his face.

"That was well done, Robinton," he said."Now don't think that learning one song is all you have to do.There's a significant number, even for children, to be learned, word and note perfect.

Continue as you have begun."

Robinton beamed with pleasure, turning to his mother to see if she also agreed.

Merelan could barely keep from sobbing with relief as she came forward and tousled his hair."You have done very well indeed, my love.I'm proud of you, too.Just as your father is." She turned to Petiron for his reassurance, but he had already turned back to the apprentice scores he was correcting, oblivious to son and spouse.

Merelan had to clench her hands to her sides to keep from roaring at him for such a curt dismissal.There was so much more Petiron could have said.He could have mentioned that the boy was on pitch throughout, with good breath support, and that his voice was actually very good.But she controlled her anger and took Robie, who couldn't quite understand why he hadn't pleased his father more, by the hand.

"We'll just see," she said in a firm, loud voice, "what Lorra might have as a reward for knowing all the verses and the tempo perfectly!"

When she slammed the door behind her, Petiron glanced over his shoulder, then went back to marking a very poorly executed apprentice lesson.

"Really, I wanted to…" Merelan's fists were clenched as she paced about the small floor space in Lorra's little office sitting room off the main Hall kitchens."I wanted to kick him."

"Really?" Lorra recoiled slightly from her friend's vehemence.

She had taken one look at Merelan's expression when she stalked into the kitchen and immediately assigned the two scullery girls to feed Robinton some of the freshly baked bubbly pies while she took the MasterSinger into her office.Lorra knew that Betrice was away from the Hall on a confinement, and she was rather complimented that Merelan would turn to her at all.

"I mean, I've heard third year apprentices who couldn't sing the Duty Song as well," Merelan said, venting both anger and frustration as she pounded around the room."Not a note wrong, not even a poorly timed breath.Why, the performance was excellent."

"Petiron said that much, didn't he?" Lorra asked, hoping to soothe the singer.

"Yes, but there was so much more he could have said.Robie sang splendidly, better than a lad of fourteen, and he's barely four Turns!And Petiron acted as if it was no more than he expected of his son."

"Ah!" Lorra pointed a finger at her distraught visitor."You've said it.He expected such excellence from his own son!If Robie hadn't been as accurate and correct as Petiron expected, then you'd've heard all about it, now wouldn't you?"

Merelan paused in her pacing and stared at the headwoman.

Then, with a rueful laugh, her anger dissipating, she sat herself down in the other comfortable chair, chuckling.

"You're right, of course.If Robie hadn't been note perfect, he would have had to repeat the Duty Song until he was.Oh, by the first Egg, what am I to do?The boy so much needs, and wants, his father's approval.He's never, never going to get it."

"Shouldn't wonder, since Petiron's shyer about giving credit where it's due than any other harper in the Hall.But," Lorra pointed out, "now you don't have to fret so much about when Petiron finds out his own son is lengths ahead of him musically."

Merelan shot Lorra a stunned look.

"Oh, c'mon, Merelan," Lorra returned, "you know it yourself.

The boy's already more of a musician than apprentices three times his age.I shouldn't wonder but that he makes journeyman by the time he's sixteen."

"A journeyman has to be eighteen…" Merelan began in a feeble denial.

"Well, by the time he's sixteen, we'll see.Meanwhile, I'd say that after today, you won't have to watch Robie around his father so carefully.It'll be easier for Rob, too.It's obvious to me that Petiron won't notice much until Robie's voice breaks and he realizes his "infant" son is nearly a man."

"Really?" Merelan asked pensively, considering Lorra's facetious words seriously.

"Wouldn't surprise me in the least," Lorra replied with a flick of her fingers."Now you stop fretting so much.The strain's coming out in your voice, I'm sorry to mention that to you, but I don't think anyone else would.Except Petiron, and it's as well he hasn't noticed.Or am I overstepping the line?"

"No, you're not, Lorra.Never." Merelan hastily laid her hand on Lorra's plump forearm."I just didn't think anyone would notice.

I've just been vocalizing and tried to go easy on my voice…"

"Not easy when you're in between a rock and a hard place with those two men in your life." Lorra leaned forward and patted Merelan's nervously drumming fingers."I'm not a healer, but a glass of wine would not go amiss right now.For both of us." She rose and went to the cabinet, taking down a wine skin and two glasses.Merelan waved away the courtesy, but Lorra insisted.

"There're a lot of things Petiron won't notice, including wine on your breath, if that's what you're worried about.And right now you need to relax, which is what my herbal cordial will help you do." Merelan glanced out of the office at Robie, who was making the girls giggle, his round, happy face smeared with deep purplish berry juice.She settled back, accepting the glass.

"Has Master Gennell told you about the new girl yet?" Lorra asked.

"Halanna?" When Lorra nodded, Merelan went on, "Yes, I'd a letter from Ista Hold's harper, Maxilant.He's done as much as he can with her vocal training and says she's too good to be messed up by an amateur like himself." She smiled over Maxilant's modesty.

"Petiron would be happy to have a good contralto on hand too," Lorra said.She sang in that range, though never as a soloist."Odd, isn't life?You never really know how things'll turn out until they do, do you?"

"No, you don't." As Merelan sipped, she could feel the cordial seeping down her veins and the knot of tension in her belly beginning to ease.

"She's of an age with the Hold daughters here, so I've placed her with them in the cottage," Lorra said."They may be here only until TurnOver, but they'll help her ease into the routine here.It can take a bit of getting used to, can't it?"

Merelan couldn't help smiling at Lorra's use of the word "routine' in connection with the Harper Hall.No two days were ever alike in the fascinating, and sometimes frantic, atmosphere within this rectangle.She did very vividly remember her own first days there, and would help young Halanna as much as she could to become accustomed to the requisite study and practice.In fact, if Lorra was correct about Petiron, and she rather suspected the head woman was, Merelan herself would welcome having a female student to bring on.She'd have less time to fret herself into stress over all the confrontations she imagined between son and spouse.