The Masterharper of Pern

CHAPTER NINE

And so Robinton headed off to his first official assignment with five full packs, even though he had stored some childish mementoes in the Hall's vast cellars.His mother insisted that he drum a request to F'lon.

"It won't hurt your reputation at all for you to arrive on dragonback," she said firmly.

"It's showing off, Mother," he insisted.

"Others have requested conveyance," she went on, helping him pack up everything in his little room.

Whenever he returned to the Hall, he would bunk in the journeymen's quarters.He hadn't so much as laid eyes on Petiron since the night before, but that didn't surprise him.He was now separated from his father, both as parent and teacher.His relief was intense, his concern for his mother immense.She seemed so frail, and her hands trembled slightly as she wrapped his pipes and put them in one of the packs.Well, this parting was hard on them both.

"You'd need three pack animals to carry all this junk," she said, sniffing.But she gave him a big smile when he bent to see if she was crying."Oh, I shall miss you, my dear son." She put both hands on his arms and looked up at him with misted eyes."I shall miss you most frightfully, but I am also so very glad that you've been promoted out of your father's way." "What, I mean, did he say…anything?"

"No." She gave a little laugh, turning back to stuff the last few things away."He hasn't even spoken to me.And that's a sign of his total rejection of your making journeyman." She shrugged."He'll get over it, though I don't think he'll ever forgive Gennell for doing it while he was out of the Hall."

"Shards!I hadn't thought of that!" Robinton cringed at the thought of Master Gennell plagued by his father's dislike.

"Now, now, Robie, Gennell's well able to cope with your father's foibles.As I am.He'll simmer a while, and then go on and write it out in more music for me to sing."

Robinton clutched his mother's arm and made her look up at him."You will be careful, won't you, Mother?And not give too much to his music?"

She patted his cheek lovingly.I'll be good, and rest.How can I not?With Ginia, Betrice and Lorra all at me, and your father.I didn't mean to scare him, but I think I have.He'll be much more careful of me now.He does love me, you know, most possessively.

“That's what all this has been about."

Robinton nodded and then embraced his mother, feeling her thin bones and trying not to use his young strength to bruise her.But he wanted to hold her as tightly as possible, for he was fearful he might never see her again.

"Oh, Robie," she said teasingly."I'm much better.Don't fret.You know things will be easier…now…" she added apologetically."I shall write or drum if I don't hear from you, young man.You hear me?"

"Indeed I do, MasterSinger.They've quite a good network of runners at High Reaches."

"They'd have to," she said with a patronizing sniff."Living back of beyond like that."

The unmistakable trumpeting of a dragon reverberated through the courtyard."I believe your transport has arrived," she said, smiling, though her chin seemed to quiver.

He hurried to load up his packs, but was interrupted by the appearance of Masters Gennell, Washell and Ogolly.They immediately pushed him out of the way and shared the packs among them, allowing him only the new harp case.

"I'm honoured, I mean, you don't need to…" Robinton tried to protest, but he was overruled.Shrugging, he allowed them the duty.

Master Gennell winked at him as they walked out into the hall, and Robinton realized that this display of solid goodwill was as much for his mother's benefit as to make up for his father's absence.Their kindness touched him once again, and he had to swallow back tears.

"You made it, huh?" F'lon shouted as he slid down to Simanith's raised forearm and started piling luggage on the harness.

"Congratulations, Journeyman Robinton!You've got greetings from all your old friends at Benden, Weyr and Hold." To the other new journeymen waiting in the courtyard for their conveyancing, he said, "Your dragons will be along shortly, and congratulations."

Loading took only moments and then Robinton had to make his farewells.His mother pulled his head down for one last kiss and embrace.He shook hands with the Masters and promised them that he'd do his best.

"Give my special regards to Master Lobira," his mother called as he climbed up to Simanith's back."He may remember me."

"Now who can forget you, Merelan?" Master Gennell said, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

That was how Robinton remembered his mother in the trying initial days under Master Lobira's supervision.Fortunately, F'lon deposited him and his effects in the courtyard of the high andwindy Hold and departed, seen by relatively few.And especially not Master Lobira.

For that person was unimpressed with having so young a journeyman.

"Don't know what Gennell's thinking about, walking you up at fifteen!Indeed, I don't, so don't go expecting any cosseting from me, young man." Lobira eyed Robinton and scowled at the lean length of him.

It didn't help, Robinton thought, that he towered above the diminutive MasterHarper.The man came not quite to Robinton's shoulder; he was heavy in the chest, he sang bass, and narrowed through the hips to short, skinny legs.His features were pulled together in the middle of his wide face as if they should have inhabited a much narrower one.He had a shock of heavy wavy hair with bands of silver, making him look striped.All put together, he was an almost ludicrous figure.But no one snickered at Master

Lobira.He had too much presence, Robinton quickly decided, ever to be the butt of ridicule.His muddy brown eyes were shrewd, and there was no way that Robinton was going to underestimate him.

"I never expected to walk so soon," Robinton murmured, trying to be self-effacing.

Lobira gave him a quick look, as if he thought Robinton was dissembling."I shall expect much from you then, young man.

Where were you raised?Who are your parents?"

Robinton was quite happy to answer since he hoped that would mollify his new Master.But if his mother met with Lobira's approval, his father did not.Robinton was at first shocked, less at the blunt remarks about his father's sort of composing, which Lobira felt was far too sophisticated to be of any use to anyone, than at hearing such criticism voiced, especially in front of the man's son.Not that it didn't mirror his own very private assessment of Petiron's ornate compositions, but to have mentioned such doubts would have seemed disloyal and a betrayal: as if his own songs merited more attention than his father's more ambitious works.It came as another shock that it was his music which Lobira used extensively, though Lobira did not know that Robinton had been the composer.That had been a secret kept in the Hall, evidently, and not made public even to Masters outside the Hall.

Robinton knew better than to make something of that approval, but it did much to help him endure Lobira's crotchety behaviour, his temper, his inconsistencies and his general dislike of having to break in a "snot-nosed, wet-eared' novice.

Still, when the old Master saw how patient Robinton was with some of the more backward students, he began to mellow a trifle.

He even delivered a word or two of appreciation.Lobira himself was too short-tempered, and quick with a slap for the inattentive, so Robinton was given not only the slow but the very young, who had to be taught the basic Teaching Ballads.He didn't mind: in fact, it was a pleasure to sing those songs of his which Master Gennell had incorporated in the early Teaching Songs.It was a quiet contentment to him that his songs were used and he could sing them with a clear conscience.

He was also assigned the duty of spending several days of each seven-day going to the distant holds, often the only outsider they would see.These trips would end once the heavy weather settled in the high hills; so he copied out extra music for the holders to keep and study until his next trip.He had to write a report for each of his journeys; to his surprise, Lobira went over these reports carefully.

Besides Robinton and Lobira's three apprentices, there was another journeyman harper, Mallan, who was High Reaches born, and who handled other Teaching routes and also some of the classes in the big Hold.The two journeymen shared a small inner apartment on the Holder's floor with two bed cubicles and a decent-sized day room, and shared the bathing facilities down the hall with the three apprentices who were quartered in one big inner room.Master Lobira had an outside apartment with his wife, Lotricia, a faded woman with an enchanting smile and a kindly manner reminiscent of Betrice's.She had been an apprentice healer when she met Lobira, but when they had become espoused she had ended her studies and accompanied him to his posting at High Reaches, where she devoted herself to rearing the four children of their union.The one daughter had married a High Reach holder and occasionally visited her parents with her children.The sons had been apprenticed to other trades, although they returned now and again for a High Reaches Gather.

"None of them could carry a tune in a sack," Robinton once heard Lobira say in total disgust."Took after their mother's side.

But they've done well.They've done well."

Lotricia was always bringing "her boys,' as she called the Journeymen, extra food."You're all growing, and you're all nothing but bones," was her happy complaint, and her offerings were always welcome.

With such constant travel and the busy schedule in the Hold when he wasn't travelling, Robinton had little time to compose.He took to writing the tunes which filled his head while on the road, stopping frequently to note, in tiny cramped script, the measures that he had piped, whistled or sung into being as he trudged up and down steep tracks.He barely missed injuring himself on several occasions when composing so distracted him that he strayed off the narrow runner traces that were sometimes all he had to follow to his destination.The advantage of composing as he walked was that he could sing and play as loudly as he wished, often getting an answering echo from the hills around him.

With the first big snowstorm, his travelling came to a halt.In fact he was trapped for three days in Murfy Hold, which was cramped at best, and worse when the fifteen members of the hold were confined day and night.

Murfytwen, the twentieth man to hold there, broke trail for Robinton when the storm had died.He had an urgent need to collect supplies which he hoped were awaiting him at High Reaches, a trip he had delayed far too long.

"Easier to haul it all back on snow, though," Murfytwen said cheerfully as he lashed the supplies to the sled which had been loaned him for the trip."See ya when I see ya, Harper.Thanks for them new tunes.We'll learn ‘em good.An' Twenone will know his times tables by the time you're back again.Promise!"

With his gloved thumb up in a final gesture, Murfytwen started trudging back the way he had come.

High Reaches, set on its bluffs like the broadside of a fishing ship, had weathered many storms, and its thick walls kept all but the most shrieking winds from being heard.But living in this Hold was quite different from living in the Hall or even in Benden Hold.As every Hold should be, it was self-contained, with journeymen in all skills and a MasterMiner, Furlo, as well as his gangers who mainly worked for copper, which was always in demand.Master Furlo had a double quartet among his miners who sang most evenings, at the drop of a hat, as Mallan put it, grinning.Furlo was good on the gitar, having had to accompany his chorus since he was familiar with their repertoire, but Robinton offered to take over and Furlo was only too happy to accede.High Reaches Hold had enough instrumentalists, thanks to Master Lobira's efforts, to mount a considerable orchestra.The worst of the winter evenings would go by quite happily, with Lord Holder Faroguy and his Lady, Evelene, joining in from the head table.Three of their twelve children either played or sang creditably.

The evenings were not restricted to musical activities, but also featured wrestling and other such physical exercises.Robinton joined in the Hall and Step runs with enthusiasm.His long legs and the lung capacity singing had developed in him gave him an advantage.

He hadn't ever heard of Hall running, at Fort, even in the worst winters, one could get outside for exercise.But here, where the holders were confined by weather and terrain, the long Halls were put to use as sprinting alleys or for long-distance running.The stairs were also utilized to see who could get to the top and back fastest, preferably without breaking a leg.Sprained ankles were common, as were strained shoulders from grabbing banisters in the effort to prevent more serious falls.

Robinton did well enough in the running, but he eschewed the physical duels.Harpers tended to be pacifists, with a few notable exceptions: Shonagar had been champion wrestler in his home hold and at the Harper Hall, besting the holder of the mediumweight title at Fort Hold on three occasions.But harpers usually would not risk injuring their hands, and Robinton used that as a legitimate, and, to most, acceptable, excuse.That did not keep him from the censure of the acknowledged wrestling and duelling champion, a young man in his mid-twenties named Fax.

Even on his first encounter with the young holder, a question of who took the steps first at a landing where several Halls met, Robinton felt uneasy in the man's presence.Fax was aggressive, impatient and condescending.A nephew of Lord Faroguy, he had recently taken Hold of one of the Valley properties which he ran with a heavy hand, demanding perfection of all beholden to him.

Some craftsmen had asked for transfers to other holdings.

Robinton heard unsettling rumours about Fax's methods, but it wasn't for a harper to criticize, nor to take precedence over a holder, so he had courteously allowed Fax to go first.All he got for his deference was a sneer, and he noted that Fax, who had been striding with urgency to get somewhere, now slowed his pace deliberately.What that proved escaped Robinton completely, but it did give some of the rumours more credibility than he had originally thought.

One evening Fax went out of his way to get Robinton on the wrestling mats: not with himself but with one of his younger holders.

"An even match, I'd say, pound for pound and inch for inch," Fax said, his expression bland but his eyes challenging.

"I fear I'd be no match at all," Robinton said."As a harper, I've only the usual training in body sports.Now, if your holder sings, then I'll accept a contest."

Fax regarded him a long moment and then, with a sneer, swung towards Lobira."One phase of training that is so often ignored, Master Lobira."

Lobira was able to give back as well as take, and he did so with a matching contempt."Many a man has rued the day he tried to best a harper, young Fax, for song and story last longer than mere physical prowess," he replied."Or is your lad still complaining that my long-legged lad has bested him in the Hall runs every time they've competed?"

Robinton was surprised that his Master was aware that Robinton had won so many of those races, and frankly amazed that his wins had disgruntled Fax.At the time, the runner-up had taken his losing in good part.

Fax awarded Master Lobira a sustained and disturbing look, gave Robinton a final contemptuous glance, and left.Robinton breathed a sigh of relief.

"Watch him!He really wanted an opportunity to humiliate you in front of the entire Hold," Lobira said."I can't have that.Ruins discipline in the class.But if you wanted to do some work-outs with Mallan on the defensive moves you were taught at the Hall, it wouldn't be a bad idea.For you both.And the apprentices."

"I think I will, Master," Robinton replied soberly.There was little doubt that Fax had a personal grudge against him.Or maybe it was against all harpers.In any event, Fax did not request a harper for his holding.That was his decision and his folk would be stinted by the lack, but only Lord Faroguy could require his holders to provide education.Since Fax's holding appeared to be so much more profitable under his management, Lord Faroguy had little reason to question his methods.Somehow Fax managed to keep from his uncle the fact that his profits were obtained by whippings and threats of eviction.

Mallan and Robinton went through the drills on mats and, if Robinton was able to floor Mallan occasionally, the other journeyman was just as deft.At least they were each capable of quick, reflexive action.

With the pass shut by massive drifts, communication was now limited to the drums and an eight-hour evening watch was one of Robinton's less agreeable duties as a journeyman.Even a blazing fire in the hearth did not keep the Drum Tower warm enough for comfort.The pacing of every drum-watchkeeper since the Hold had been carved out of solid rock had worn a trough around the perimeter of the Tower.One had to be careful not to stumble.One good thing, though, the Tower could be reached from within the Hold itself.Some of the Southern Holds had outside stairways to their drum heights.

Manning the Drum Tower was no sinecure and required close attention.Snowfall sometimes muffled incoming messages, and outgoing ones could cause minor avalanches, heard as distant thunders in the night and made eerier by the darkness.On clear evenings, when both Belior and Timor were full, Robinton could sometimes see the seven spires of the abandoned High Reaches Weyr.He wondered how it varied from the other two he had seen.

Probably not by much, but maybe he'd see if he could get in that one too, simply for comparison's sake.

All the new surroundings and experiences struck fresh chords within him.Rather boldly, he composed a song for the miners" double quartet that was more suited to their vocal skills than many available ballads: a humorous tale of six verses and a chorus about a miner and his love, just their style.It was so well received that Master Lobira wanted to know where Robinton had been hiding it.

"Oh, well, it was among the stuff I brought up," Robinton said, caught unawares.

"Really?"

"Well, sort of.I mean, the melody was written out.I kind of rearranged it for the miners and added the chorus so everyone could join in."

"Did you now?" Master Lobira eyed his journeyman and pursed his lips thoughtfully."Well, if you say so."

Robinton retreated as soon as he politely could.Master Lobira had only glanced at the last packet to come in from the Harper Hall before handing it over to him.There were such good voices and players here, and a new song could liven evenings so much that Robinton hadn't been able to resist the temptation to sneak in his new song.He'd be more circumspect and just adapt other music, already in the repertoire.

But he underestimated Master Lobira.

"You wrote these," Lobira said, stamping into his bed cubicle one evening with a sheaf of neat music scores in one hand, his expression accusatory.

As Robinton was in the process of writing down yet another tune, he could scarcely deny it when Lobira snagged the hide out of his hand and began comparing them.

"You've written almost all the new music the Hall has been sending out, haven't you?"

Robinton straggled to his feet, a difficult enough manoeuvre due to the cramped space and Lobira's proximity to his bed.He felt at an extreme disadvantage lying sprawled on his back.Then he realized that towering above Lobira was not exactly a good tactic either, because it forced his agitated Master to look up.

"Master Lobira, I can explain…" He squeezed past the man and gestured for him to exit into the larger living room.Mallan was not to be seen.

"By the First Egg, I am waiting to hear!" Lobira said, his neck red and swollen, his eyes blazing."All this time, it must be five, six turns, I've been passing music around that was written by… you!It's bad enough you're a journeyman at fifteen, but a composer at… at ten!" Lobira slammed the offending scores down on the table and then pinned them down with his fist, glaring around at Robinton who had seated himself so as to be diplomatically lower than his Master.

"Actually…" Robinton quailed at having to tell the honest truth.

"One or two were written when I was a little younger."

"A little younger?" Lobim's eyes nearly popped.Planting both fists on the table, he leaned menacingly over Robinton."Just when did you write the first?How old were you?"

"I…I did some variations when I was three, my mother says." Lobira regarded him and then, in one of his characteristically abrupt changes, threw back his head and started to howl with laughter.He laughed so hard that he had to steady himself on the table edge, and then collapsed into the other chair, holding his sides.As the door was open, the laughter carried down the hall and brought Lotricia to see what had her husband in such a mood.

Journeymen quartered just down the hall also came to see what was happening.

"Whatever did you tell Lobira?" Lotricia asked, eyebrows risen almost to her hairline."I haven't heard him laugh like that since Fax got caught in the wine barrel." She was smiling.In fact everyone, except the now concerned Robinton, was grinning.

"I…didn't tell him anything," Robinton said truthfully.The reason for the laughter was still spread across the table, and hurriedly he tried to gather the sheets up.

Lobira's hands stopped him, and his laughing abated as he stammered out an explanation to his spouse."This one…is the… one who's written…all the new tunes."

"Oh, no, not all."

"No?Not all?You gave others a look-in?" And that set Lobira off again.

Lotricia planted her hands on her ample hips."You're not making much sense, Lobira, and you usually do," she said with a hint of pique."And if it's made you laugh so much, I want to hear the whole story.Do calm down.Rob, is there any klah in the pitcher?"

Robinton hurriedly poured lukewarm klah into a clean cup, which Lotricia took from him and passed to Lobira.Still in spasms of laughter, Lobira paused long enough to take a sip, which seemed to steady him.Wiping tears from his eyes, he beckoned for the onlookers to come closer.He tapped the music.

"Robinton, our newest and youngest journeyman, is the composer of most of the songs, which, by the First Egg, we both have been teaching you…

"Did you write them, dear?" Lotricia asked, her blue eyes wide with pleasure."I told you he was a clever lad, and modest too," she added to her husband. "Whyever isn't your name on the music?"

"As a journeyman, I'm not allowed…"

"That's what's so funny, Lotricia.Don't you see?"

"No, I don't, Lobira, although I think his music is so singable."

"That's it!That's why it's so funny," Lobira said, patting her hands for being so clever.

She regarded him blankly.

"His father's music isn't copied and sent to every Hold and Hall," Lobira said."But Robinton's tunes have been since he was three!Get it now?" He was agitated further by his spouse's failure to see the humour, and his neck reddened again, his face puffing out."The joke's on Petiron!That conceited, condescending, consummate composer hasn't half the talent of his own son!" He rose then, chuckling and chortling; he managed to slap Robinton on the back and, taking charge of the music he had brought with him, he started out through the door.Then he saw he had taken the unfinished sheet and, chuckling, he handed it back to Robinton."Let me see it when you've finished, will you, Rob lad?"

He was still laughing when he closed the door on his own quarters.

"What was all that about?" one of the journeymen Woodsmiths asked Robinton, still mystified.

"A Hall joke," Robinton said, smiling inanely and trying to close the door.

"Oh?"

After that incident, his relationship with Master Lobira altered dramatically to an equal footing, or at least Lobira treated his journeyman with the respect he would give a peer.Robinton was delighted, astounded, and quite humbled by the compliment.His Masters at the Hall had been benign taskmasters, encouraging and supportive, but they had treated him as a student.Now Lobira treated him as an equal, despite the difference in age and experience.

It was heady stuff for Robinton and he schooled himself never to abuse this status, working even harder at all the tasks Lobira assigned him.However, this respect generated an unexpected side effect: it made him realize all the more keenly the relationship which Petiron had been unable to give him.In order to abate his bitterness, Robinton began mentally to refer to him as Petiron rather than "father'.Maybe one day he could forgive the slights and the terrible hurt Petiron had inflicted on him, but not yet.Meanwhile, in his growing pleasure in Lobira's continued good favour, painful memories of striving for an acceptance which had never come began to fade.

There was one last blast of winter in High Reaches, and then the spring melt occurred, turning the hills and tracks into rivers of mud.

Trees budded out, and in the Valley farmers began seeding their fields.And Master Lobira set up the schedules for his journeymen.

That was when Robinton noticed that there were no pegs on a wide area at the south-western end of High Reaches.

"Surely that's where Fax has his hold," he said.

"It is," Lobira said in a flat voice.

Mallan gave a droll grin.

"He has not requested a harper," Lobira added in an acerbic tone.

Robinton sat up straight in surprise."But…why not?"

"He doesn't like us muddling the minds of his holders with unnecessary information," Lobira explained.

"Unnec…But everyone has the right to read and reckon."

"Fax does not wish his holders to be educated, Rob," Mallan said, crossing his hands behind his head and tipping his chair back.

"Simple as that!What they don't know won't hurt them, because they also won't learn their rights."

"That's…that's…" Robinton struggled to find the appropriate word."Can't Lord Faroguy insist?"

Lobira grunted."He has suggested that reading and figuring are considered assets…"

"Suggested?" Robinton shot out of his chair in protest.

"Now, lad, calm down.It isn't that we don't have more than enough students…"

"But he's denying them their rights under the Charter!"

"He denies there is a Charter, you mean," Mallan put in.

"The Charter also guarantees that a holder has autonomy within his holding," Lobira pointed out.

"But his holders have rights."

"Don't be so naive, Rob.That's exactly what he's denying them access to," Mallan said, dropping his chair to all four legs for emphasis."And don't go putting your head in that snake's pit.

You'd never match him in a right, and you come on strong to him on that point and he's every right to challenge you.And be sorry that he just happened to break your neck!"

Robinton turned to Lobira for support, but the MasterHarper shook his head.

"I've warned Faroguy often about allowing Fax to have so much control.I've also warned both young Farevene and Bargen, Faroguy's eldest sons, to be on their guard.I'll say this for Farevene: he's a good wrestler and keeps himself fit.Bargen relies on the fact that the Council is unlikely to approve a nephew as long as there are acceptable sons.Both of them are, in my estimation.But I don't think they realize just how ambitious, and greedy, Fax is."

Lobira gave another curt nod of his head."At that, we harpers have the respect our Hall deserves here in High Reaches, though I've heard,' his expression turned gloomy "there're getting to be more and more places where harpers are barely tolerated." Mallan and Robinton both stared at him.

"One of the northern traders mentioned something…" Mallan began.

"Let's not borrow trouble until it comes our way," Lobira said firmly and he went back to scheduling Robinton's assignments.

That discussion weighed heavily on Robinton's mind.He had been taught his Charter, and had even seen the original, carefully preserved between glass panes, its ink and precise lettering a marvel even after all the turns since it had been written.The Charter was taught, first as a Teaching Ballad to the youngest children, and then with more detail as the students grew old enough to memorize its provisions and to understand the meaning of each clause.A holder was not doing his duty by his people to deny them this information.

On the other hand, there was no provision made to punish holders who did not disseminate the information contained in the Charter.This was one of the shortcomings of the document.When Robinton had queried that in class, Master Washell had responded with a snort and then the notion that it must never have occurred to the writers of the Charter that anyone would be denied such basic human rights.

Robinton hoped that those who had learned their figures and letters under the previous holder would pass them on, however illicitly, to their children.Knowledge had a way of permeating any barriers set to exclude it.He could only hope that held true in Fax's hold.