Dragonsinger

“A gather? That’s all I need.” Domick slammed his door.

“I trust there won’t be a repetition of this,” said Master Morshal as the Harper and Menolly came abreast of his room. He wore a loose robe, but he obviously had been drawn from his bed by the creeling and shouts. His sour gaze was directed fully on Menolly, as if she were the sole cause of the commotion.

“Probably,” the Harper replied cheerfully, “until I figure out this precious creature’s habits. He only hatched yesterday, Morshal. Do give him a few days’ grace.”

Morshal spluttered something, glared balefully and accusingly at Menolly, and then shut his door, pointedly without slamming it. Menolly all too clearly heard other doors closing along the corridor, and she was very grateful to be in the Harper’s company.

“Don’t let old Morshal upset you, Menolly,” said Master Robinton in a quiet voice.

Menolly looked up quickly, grateful for his reassurance. He smiled again as he nodded for her to enter his room and gestured for her to set the tray down on the center of the sandtable.

“Fortunately,” he went on, slouching in a chair, all the while supplying meat bits for Zair, “you don’t have sit classes with Morshal.”

“I don’t?”

Robinton chuckled at the note of relief in her voice and then laughed again as Zair missed a morsel, creeled anxiously until the Harper had retrieved it from the floor and deposited it neatly in the open mouth.

“No, you don’t. Morshal teaches only at the apprentice level.” The Master Harper sighed. “He really is adept at drilling basic theory into rebellious apprentice minds. But Petiron already taught you more than Morshal knows. Relieved, Menolly?”

“Oh, yes. Master Morshal doesn’t seem to like me.”

“Master Morshal has always considered it a waste of time and effort to teach any girls. What good would it do them?”

Menolly blinked, surprised to hear her father’s opinion echoed in the Harper Hall. Then she realized that Master Robinton had been speaking in deft mimicry of Master Morshal’s testy ma

“Morshal’s dislike of the feminine sex is a standing joke in this Hall, Menolly. Give him the courtesy due his rank and age, and ignore his biased thinking. As I said, you don’t have to sit classes with him. Not that Domick will be any easier to study with. He’s a hard taskmaster, but Domick will take over your tuition where Petiron left off in musical form and composition until I can. Unfortunately,” and the Harper’s smile of regret was sincere, I am badly pressed for time with all that’s happening, much though I would prefer to undertake the task myself. Still, Domick’s understanding of the truly classical form is superior, and he’s keen to monopolize any instrumentalist capable of playing his intricate music. Don’t miss your lessons with Master Shonagar, for you must be able to sing your songs effectively, but,” and he lifted a warning finger, “don’t fall for Brudegan’s importunings about fire lizard choruses. That can be scheduled for a later time when we’ve settled you properly in your craft.

I’d like you to concentrate on your instruments…as far and as fast as that hand of yours permits. How is it healing, by the way?” And he reached for her left hand. “Hmmm, you’ve done too much by the look of those splits. Does it hurt? I won’t have you crippling yourself in your zeal, Menolly, understand that!” Menolly, sensing his kind concern, swallowed against the lump in her throat and managed a tentative smile.

“It is never easy, sweet child, to have a real gift: something else is withheld to compensate.”

Menolly was startled at the sadness, that melancholy in his eyes and face, and he went on, almost to himself, “If you won’t surrender the mark, you’ll never be more than half alive. Speaking of marks…” and his expression altered completely. He leaned forward, across the sandtable, rummaging in the compartments of the central bridge built above the actual sand level. “Ah, here,” and he pressed something into her hand. “There’s a gather today, and you deserve some relaxation. I suspect diversions were few and infrequent in your Sea Hold. Find something pretty to wear at the stalls…a belt perhaps…and buy some of the bubbly pies. Piemur will lead you to them, the scamp.

“But tomorrow,” and Master waggled a finger at her, “back to work for you. Sebell says you make a good copyist. Did you have a chance to polish the Brekke song yesterday evening? I think you’ll agree the melodic line falters in the fourth phrase…” and he hummed it. “Then I want you to rewrite the ballad observing all the traditional musical forms. Think of it as an exercise in musical theory. Mind you, I’m of the opinion that the strength of your work will lie in a looser, less formalized style. There are, however, purists in the Craft who must be mollified while you’re an apprentice.”

Zair, his belly so swollen that the individual lumps of meat could be discerned against his skin, gave a sudden burp and collapsed into sleep in the crook of the Harper’s arm.

“I say, Menolly, how long will he do nothing but eat and sleep?” The Harper sounded disappointed.

“The first sevenday, and maybe a few days longer,” Menolly answered, still trying to assimilate his astonishing instructions and philosophy. “He’ll develop a personality in a very short time.”

“That’s a relief.” The Harper heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I’d been worrying that perhaps his brains had got addled, going between so much in the egg. Not that I’d care for him any the less,” and he smiled tenderly down at the sprawled form. “How did you ever manage to fill nine rapacious bellies?” Now his smile was all for her. “And what a relief to have you here to help us. In this I am your apprentice.” His eyes held hers a moment longer, still twinkling with amusement although his face settled into a serious expression. “In all other matters, you are to consider yourself my apprentice, you know.”

“Now, you may take the tray back to the kitchen, and you are dismissed to the gather. Unless, of course,” he added with that wi

She brought the tray and empty dishes to the kitchen, where Abuna, with more than her usual courtesy, suggested that Menolly had better get some breakfast before it was all gone. They’d be clearing the tables soon, and if the lazybones hadn’t eaten, too bad. Not but what they couldn’t stuff themselves at the gather’s stalls.

That reminded Menolly of the mark that the Harper had put in her hand. At first she thought it was the dim light of the passage, but when she got into the entrance hall, she could plainly see that the two was underscored: it wasn’t a halfmark, which would have been scored above. She clenched the precious piece in her fist, amazed. The Master Harper had given her a whole two-mark piece to spend on herself. Two whole marks! Why, she could buy anything!

No, he’d said that she was to buy something pretty to wear. A belt. The Harper’s keen eye had noted the absence of hers. And it was a worn belt, anyhow. But a new one, instead of one handed down…a belt she could choose for herself! How very kind of Master Robinton. And he’d said she was to buy bubbly pies. She looked about the scattering of boys at the apprentice tables for Piemur’s curly head of hair. He was, as usual, deep in conversation with several boys, and probably pla

“She couldn’t give ’em away if she wanted to,” Piemur was saying in a strident tone as Menolly approached his group. Someone must have jabbed him in the ribs because he glanced over his shoulder and, while he looked in no way abashed, it was obvious from the expression of the others that Menolly had been the “she” he’d meant. “Can you?” he asked bluntly.