The Masterharper of Pern

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A very weary Nip appeared late one night in the second month of the new Turn.

"He's at it again," he said, dropping a tattered hide coat to the floor and pouring himself a drink, swallowing it before he spoke.

"I can get you soup," Robinton suggested when he saw how blue Nip was about the lips.He rose from his comfortable chair.Nip shook his head, poured himself a second glass and came over to the fire."What's he at?"

"His tricks," Nip said, sinking gratefully into the chair Robinton had vacated."How he plans his invasion of holds, large and small."

"Really?" Robinton poured wine for himself and, hooking his foot around a stool, slid it to the hearth and made himself comfortable to listen."Do tell."

"Oh, you'll get chapter and verse from me."

"If you don't fall asleep first."

"I won't.My subject matter will keep me wide awake," Nip said bitterly.He downed the second glass of wine."Pity to waste it like that, Rob, I know, when it's good Benden, but it goes to a good purpose."

I'm listening," Robinton said patiently, and filled Nip's glass a third time.The harper sipped this one slowly.

"He visits his intended victim, all smiles and reassurances, compliments the man on his fine holding.Buys whatever the hold produces, pays over the mark for what he calls the best quality.He asks how such yields are achieved on such poor, good, medium, excellent soil…under such trying, hot, cold, dry conditions…In short…"

"He makes himself a friend of the hold," Robinton said, nodding ruefully.

"Then he sends down a man to learn from the holder.Or he starts buying the produce, at higher prices, and brings others to see how well this holder is doing with his land.I mean, how can they be taken in so easily?"

"Some of those upland holds are isolated.Often they don't get to but one Gather a Turn."

"True," Nip sighed."Now, he's very canny about how he insults the Harper Hall, especially if the hold in question has a harper, or is on a well-travelled route.He's careful with his slanders," and Nip pantomimed a dagger being inserted gently in and then slowly twisted."He gives examples of harper lies and exaggerations.So he plants the seeds of doubt.Then he invites the man and his family to come to his next Gather, and sometimes, if the gullible fool believes him, he offers to send men to tend the herd-beasts or the fields, or whatever, while the holder and his family are away."

"So that his men become familiar with the place."

"Exactly." And Nip took a sip."One man and his family never did get back from that Gather and so Fax has acquired Keogh Hold recently."

"That makes…"

"Four."

"I see.Let me take those boots off for you, Nip.They look soaked." Actually, Robinton had caught sight of the way Nip was shivering despite the wine and the heat.

"You're the only man I'd allow such a privilege," the irrepressible Nip replied as he lifted his left leg and then placed his right boot on Robinton's butt."I know many people who'd love to have the MasterHarper of Pern on the end of their boot!" he added, chuckling, and gave Rob a hefty push, all to help remove his boot, of course.

In spite of Nip's pessimistic report, Fax was quiescent again, seemingly content to ride his extended borders, encouraging, as Nip put it drolly, his dependants to increase their production.

Robinton could not spend all his time worrying about where Fax would go next.He had the Hall to run, with all its problems and scheduling, especially when the bias against harpers was increasing.

However, when he heard that Nemorth had actually risen in a good mating flight with Simanith, Robinton sent congratulations and had a special visit from F'lon who looked excessively pleased with himself.

"How did you manage?" Robinton asked, pouring two glasses from the Benden wine-skin F'lon had brought to celebrate.

"First we starved the pair of them.I never thought a queen dragon could be so difficult.All the bronzes were needed to snatch anything she killed.She'd sneak out the Weyr at night to get something to eat."

"Who?Jora or NemorthT

F'lon blinked and then howled with laughter."Actually, I meant Nemorth but I think Jora probably had edibles secreted about the place because we never did manage to get her down to a decent size.But Nemorth was our prime worry.Like rider like dragon can be all too true.But we succeeded in keeping her from doing more than blood the next time she turned bright gold.My, she was a nasty one in flight," and F'lon shook his head from side to side, with an odd grin on his face."Simanith proved his worth.Caught her high and did her well." Then he exhaled noisily.

Robinton was hard pressed not to laugh out loud, wondering how F'lon had managed his unwieldy mate on that occasion but there were certain matters one did not discuss, even with such a good friend as F'lon.

"So, she'll clutch in the winter?"

"So long as she does clutch!"

"Here's to a triple her last one!"

"We'll need every one," F'lon said and downed the wine, breaking the glass in the hearth.Robinton, though he regretted losing two such fine goblets, followed suit."I'll come for you myself when the Hatching's due.Both my sons'll stand." Before Robinton figured that the youngest would be only ten, F'lon was out the door.

"Well, he is the Weyrleader," Robinton murmured."And the dragons will make the right choices." He hoped.

He had another, totally unexpected visit that same seven-day which turned out to have almost as fortuitous a result.

Silvina tapped on the door of his rooms."You've two visitors, Rob," she said, smiling broadly as she pushed the door open wider to admit the guests.

Robinton instantly rose to his feet to greet the arrivals: a grizzled man, and a very gawky shy lad whose eyes were round and so fearful that Robinton increased the warmth in his own smile.The older man pushed the lad forward with a hand that was missing two fingers.He nodded with great dignity to the MasterHarper.

"You wouldn't remember me, likely," he said, "but I've never forgotten my cousin, Merelan."

The injured hand, the deep voice, the tanned, weathered and faintly familiar face of the man combined with the heavy boots he wore gave Robinton a clue.

"Rantou! he exclaimed.

"Aye." A huge grin split the man's face."Rantou from the woods. Fancy you remembering my name after all these turns."

Robinton shook the offered hand vigorously and urged the two to take seats, gesturing to Silvina to bring refreshment.

"Why, it's been…turns!" Robinton said."I do remember that summer, and swimming in the sea and all the cousins I didn't know I had…"

"Heard Merelan had died a while back," Rantou said, his expression sober."Heard her sing at South Boll Gathers now and then."

"You had a fine voice, or so she often said."

"Did she?" The old man's face lit up.The boy wriggled in his chair, uncomfortable and not certain what to do or how to act.

"She did," Robinton said warmly, turning kindly to include the boy in the conversation.

Rantou cleared his throat and sat forward on the chair."Well, that's what I'm here for."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Rantou gripped the boy by the shoulder."This is my grandson, Sebell.He can sing.I want him to be a harper, if he's good enough."

"Why, that's wonderful, Rantou."

"He's better off here, much better than in the woods.I never forgot your father, you know." Rantou grinned slyly."He didn't think much of us."

"Oh, now…"

"Don't mix the truth up, lad, I mean, MasterHarper." Rantou suddenly realized that he had no right to reprimand such an important person.

Robinton laughed."He hated to lose any promising musical talent." "I want Sebell to have the chance," Rantou said."He's smart, he already plays pipes he's made, and our old gitar.Knows all his Teaching Songs and Ballads.We don't have a regular harper down There, too small, but I've seen that Sebell learned as much as we could teach him."

Robinton turned to the very nervous boy, who jerked his chin up almost defensively at such scrutiny.He was as tanned as his grandfather, with a shock of sun-bleached hair and wide-set dark eyes which had been surreptitiously noting everything in the room, from the instruments on the walls to the musical notations on the sand table.He was ten or eleven turns, Robinton thought, more bone than flesh, but with the suggestion of height and strength in his frame…and bony wrists and ankles which protruded from pants legs that were too short.

"I started on pipes too, you know," he said gently, and pointed to them on the wall.

The boy looked surprised.

"Did you bring yours with you?" Robinton asked.

"He's never without them," his grandfather said proudly and nodded to Sebell.

The boy reached behind him and produced multiple pipes which he had tucked into his waistband, hidden from view under his shirt.

Robinton rose and got his own boyhood pipes.He grinned at Sebell as he tried to make his adult fingers fit the stops which had been made for much smaller hands.Then he did a quick scale and glanced at Sebell.The boy's grin was slightly amused as he repeated the scale, quickly and well.

"How about this one?" And Robinton essayed a more complex arpeggio.

The boy's grin broadened as he set his lips to the pipes and immediately brought forth the same run.

"Which is your favourite Teaching Ballad?" Robinton asked.

The boy began the Duty Song, which was not the simplest of the Ballads, and Robinton joined by piping a descant around the melody.Sebell's eyes twinkled at the challenge, and the two pipers ended the song with quite a flourish, for Sebell had variations of his own.

Robinton chuckled."Can you sing it for me too, while I accompany you?"

The boy's treble voice was not the least bit breathy, so someone had taught him a few vocal tricks.It was a good voice, too, and he had a good sense of rhythm and pitch and imbued the words with appropriate feeling.Shonagar would be overjoyed to have a new student.

"He's your kin, Rantou."

"And kin of yourself as well, Master Robinton."

"Why, so he is!" Robinton quickly suppressed a wish that this had been his son, rather than poor retarded Camo."Why, so he is," he repeated more firmly and held out his hand to the boy."The Harper Hall will be pleased to have you join us.Very pleased."

"He won't expect any favours, kin or not."

"I do him none by giving any," Robinton said, and then smiled encouragingly at Sebell.

A tap on the door and Silvina entered with a tray of refreshments, including newly baked cakes which brought an eager expression to the boy's face.

"Silvina, meet Sebell, grandson of Rantou, and by way of being a relative of mine from my mother's hold," Robinton said.

Having settled the tray on the long table, Silvina held out her hand to Sebell, who jumped to his feet and gave her a shy bow before accepting her clasp.

"A new apprentice?" she asked, smiling kindly.

"And a new treble for Shonagar to train.Pipes well, too," Robinton said with pride.He couldn't resist ruffling the lad's hair in his pleasure at his coming."I met Rantou when I was much younger than Sebell…"

"You are related to MasterSinger Merelan?" Silvina asked as she poured klah and passed around the sweetener.

"We were very proud of her, we were, Silvina," Rantou replied proudly.

"We all were," Silvina said and her warm smile included the newest recruit to the Harper Hall, who grinned shyly back at her as she passed him the plate of cakes.

Sebell settled in, a quiet lad but endlessly curious about things musical.Heen his son, rather than poor retarded Camo."Why, so he is," he repeated more firmly and held out his hand to the boy."The Harper Hall will be pleased to have you join us.Very pleased."

"He won't expect any favours, kin or not."

"I do him none by giving any," Robinton said, and then smiled encouragingly at Sebell.

A tap on the door and Silvina entered with a tray of refreshments, including newly baked cakes which brought an eager expression to the boy's face.

"Silvina, meet Sebell, grandson of Rantou, and by way of being a relative of mine from my mother's hold," Robinton said.

Having settled the tray on the long table, Silvina held out her hand to Sebell, who jumped to his feet and gave her a shy bow before accepting her clasp.

"A new apprentice?" she asked, smiling kindly.

"And a new treble for Shonagar to train.Pipes well, too," Robinton said with pride.He couldn't resist ruffling the lad's hair in his pleasure at his coming."I met Rantou when I was much younger than Sebell…"

"You are related to MasterSinger Merelan?" Silvina asked as she poured klah and passed around the sweetener.

"We were very proud of her, we were, Silvina," Rantou replied proudly.

"We all were," Silvina said and her warm smile included the newest recruit to the Harper Hall, who grinned shyly back at her as she passed him the plate of cakes.

Sebell settled in, a quiet lad but endlessly curious about things musical.He kept appearing to ask if Robinton needed anything, until everyone took it for granted that he was Robinton's shadow.

Sebell also began to play with Camo, trying to get him to hold a drumstick and use it properly on the little drum Robinton had made for him.Seeing the two together caused Robinton some heartache, but he could no more ask Sebell to leave his son alone than be could ignore Sebell's deft and discreet services.

"The lad's so kind to Camo," Silvina remarked one evening to him."He's not like the other apprentices, helter-skelter and rough, and he seems so genuinely fond of Camo' She broke off and regarded Robinton closely."You know, you've a true son of your heart in Sebell, Rob.In fact," she added, cocking her head, "Sebell's not the only apprentice who adores you, Rob.Don't hesitate to give them the love which Camo cannot return.They deserve it, each in their own way, so you're taking nothing from Camo."

"I wish I could give the child something," Robinton said wistfully.

"Oh, you do.He always smiles when he hears your voice."

On reflection he realized that Silvina's remark about concentrating on his many "sons' was sound advice.So he stopped yearning for what Camo could never do and, as his mother did, accepted the boy's cheerful smile and praised him for what progress he made: learning to walk, learning to feed himself, learning to do simple tasks.Sebell, as often as not, helping him.

Robinton had occasional visits from F'lon, especially after Nemorth deposited a very good clutch on the Hatching Ground sands.Not triple her last clutch, but a respectable twenty-four.

Sometimes when he asked for conveyance a-dragonback, F'lon would send the Weyrsinger, C'gan, but Robinton was just as glad to see the young-faced Weyrsinger.C'gan's infallible good nature was a tonic in itself.In fact, it was C'gan who came to collect the MasterHarper for his first official attendance at a Benden Weyr Hatching.Such an event happened all too infrequently.Harper Records spoke of many more in former times, before the five Weyrs disappeared.

"The older lad's well grown but, frankly, I think Manora's son's a bit young," C'gan informed the MasterHarper as they hurried to blue Tagath, waiting impatiently in the courtyard.The blue rider had given the MasterHarper only moments to change into appropriate finery, and now he half-boosted him to Tagath's back."But F'lon was not going to risk not having both sons dragonriders.No, he wasn't.And it's true we don't have as many clutches.Nor as many eggs in "em as we should do.That Nemorth's too fat to fly.

Up you go!"

"Good day, Tagath," Robinton said, stroking the blue shoulder as he settled himself between neck ridges.He tried to find the best place for his gitar and ended up cradling it in his arms behind C'gan.

Tagath turned his head round to look at Robinton.Hatching is always a good day, Harper.

"He answered me!" Robinton said, delighted.He grinned at C'gan.

"Ah, he's not much of a talker, is Tagath.Even to me.I think you surprised him, Harper.Does him good."

Robinton felt his neck snap, and his nose connected with the tuning knobs of the gitar as Tagath made a mighty leap skyward.

The power in those blue haunches was formidable.Robinton had time to finger his nose and establish that it wasn't bleeding before he heard C'gan give the command to go between.

Then they were hanging above Benden Weyr and Robinton caught his breath.The Bowl was alive with people streaming into the Hatching Ground and dragons weaving up to and disappearing down the upper tunnel to where they could watch Impression.

Dragon eyes gleamed with the brightest of blues and greens, flashed with the yellows of excitement.

Tagath landed neatly quite close to the entrance to the Hatching Ground, deftly avoiding two groups of holders running in.A hum warned both Harper and dragonrider that the event was almost upon them.

Robinton slid down the blue's side, thanking him and C'gan, then joined those streaming in.

"Over here, Rob!" F'lon roared, vigorously beckoning the Harper to join him on the raised section of the Ground where Nemorth was hunched."I've been waiting for you!" Robinton could not fail to notice Jora on the other side of her queen, a large bulk in a vivid green gown which did nothing to hide her obesity or enhance what had once been a pretty face.He bowed ceremoniously to her and then to Nemorth, whose attention was on the small clutch of eggs in the centre of the hot Hatching Sands.

Jora gave him a nervous grin, her fat fingers making wet creases in the stuff of her gown.He always tried to be nice to her, knowing that F'lon gave her a difficult time.

"I was beginning to think you might not be at the Hall," F'lon said, grabbing Robinton by the hand and shaking it so hard that Robinton exclaimed.

"I'll need it to play for you, F'lon," he said, pulling back his hand and making a show of examining it for injury.

"Yes, yes, of course, and you'll make a song for my sons Impression?"

Robinton did not laugh at the proud and eager father.F'lon's emotions were so obvious: he was torn between the certainty that both his sons must Impress and the fear that neither would.

"Point them out to me, will you?" Rob asked."Lads grow so fast at this time of their lives…"

"The two there to the left…See?In white of course, but Fallamon has my hair.And Famanoran resembles his mother.You remember Manora?The one who kept her head the night S'loner died?"

"They also resemble each other," Robinton remarked, having identified the two by that more than by F'lon's excited description.

"Well-grown lads."

"Fallamon's the taller," F'lon added nervously.

"Relax, F'lon," Robinton said."They'll Impress."

“Are you sure?" F'lon's query was anxious.

"You're asking me?"

"Yes, I'm asking you."

He really is asking you, Simanith's voice echoed in Robinton's ears.

"Of course they will.How could they not, F'lon?Relax.Enjoy this moment."

F'lon rubbed hands nearly as nervous as Jora's.She kept peeking around her dragon's neck and she certainly looked agitated.

Robinton felt more sympathy for the poor woman.

"Simanith says they will," Robinton added mendaciously, glancing up at the bronze who was crouched on the ledge above his queen.Simanith blinked.

"He would know, wouldn't he?" F'lon said and, at the first sharp cracking sound, took hold of Robinton's arm in a vice-like grip.

Robinton tried not to wince, highly amused by the spectacle of the usually supremely confident, proud and aggressive Weyrleader in such a state.

"It's a bronze!" F'lon cried, his hands tightening perceptibly on Robinton's forearm.

"I'll need this to play," Robinton said again, peeling the dragonrider’s fingers free.

"A bronze first is a good sign," F'lon told him urgently."There're only nine of them, you know."

"Easy!"

The little bronze shattered its shell with a second decisive blow of its nose.

"Oh, well done!" F'lon cried."Do you see that, Robinton?" Robinton nodded, but he'd also seen the expression on Jora's flushed and frantic face.The outcome of this Impression was possibly even more important to her.

The little bronze creeled his hunger, nodding his head in a semicircle, then without another moment's hesitation he lurched directly at F'lon's two sons.Imperiously he butted the taller lad as the young boy stepped out. of the way.

"His name is Mnementh!" the boy cried exultantly, clasping the wet head to his chest.

F'lon let out a gasp that was as much a sob as a cheer."He's done it.He's done it.He's done it!"

Robinton was now seized by the arms and shaken, and dropped back on to his own feet in the next instant as F'lon ran across the hot sands to assist the newly Impressed pair.

Jora gave a mewling sound and tears streamed down her face.

She gave Robinton a glance both piteous and triumphant.

Three other eggs cracked and bronze dragons emerged.

Robinton wondered just how good an omen for the Weyr that was.

Then he paid more attention to the pairing of the lads.In their white, it was difficult to know if all the candidates were weyrbred or not.Then loud cheers and shrieks of delight from one group informed him that at least one new rider was hold-bred.And so were the newly Impressed blue and the three greens.A brown dragon broke his shell, and suddenly he was the only dragonling left.

He cried out, craning his neck as high as he could to see around the others.Then, with a sort of hiccupping yip, he veered and stumbled towards the youngest boy on the sands: Famanoran, F'lon's second son.Famanoran had been just standing there quietly, watching, his expression blank, but once he realized that the little brown dragon was heading towards him, and him alone, he raced across the sands to meet him.

"F'lon!" Robinton shouted over the din made by new dragons and riders, and pointed towards this final pairing.

F'lon swivelled about, his mouth dropping open, and caught the moment of Impression.

"His name is Canth!" Famanoran cried, tears of joy marking his face as he patted and stroked his new friend.

"I told you so," Robinton remarked frequently to the exultant Weyrleader father that evening at the feasting.He also had a chance to speak to F'lar and F'nor, for that was how they decided to shorten their names in the dragonrider tradition.

"I don't think F'lon would have forgiven us if we hadn't Impressed," F'lar admitted to the Harper with a rueful grin.

"You had to, F'lar…" F'nor began, and then added loudly, "It didn't matter that much about me…"

"Of course it did," Robinton contradicted him immediately.

"Canth is rather large for a brown, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," F'nor said with soft pride, grinning foolishly.

Robinton located Manora, already busy making sure that food was reaching the various tables and that everyone had a seat.He congratulated her and she smiled almost absently, her eyes darting from one corner of the Lower Cavern to the other, checking on servers and the served.

"Such a good day," she said with quiet satisfaction.

"You must be proud of them."

"I am," she said.With her usual understated dignity she moved off to take a seat by Jora, who had been left more or less to herself at the high table.The Weyrwoman was paying absolutely no attention to anything but clearing the food from the overflowing plate in front of her.Manora ate slowly and with relish, as dignified as she had been as a young girl.

Robinton took advantage of the fine Benden white which was being served.Lord Raid was present, as he should be for a Benden Hatching, and he was quite relaxed and pleasant to Robinton when they exchanged greetings and remarked on F'lon's double joy.

When he got back to the Hall, Nip had been there and left him a message.

"And what do you bet me that Nabol will fall to him next?"

That was one bet that Robinton would never have taken.Even a Bitran would have passed it up.

Perhaps that acquisition was another reason why Tarathel scheduled an ambitious Gather, inviting everyone, including Fax.

Vendross, Tarathel's invaluable guard captain, had flushed out a large group of Fax's men in the foothills of Telgar where such a party should not have been.Since he was commanding a much larger patrol, he had the advantage.Their excuse that they had had to detour from winter-damaged tracks to get back to the High Reaches was not well received by Vendross who escorted them as fast as possible back to the main Crom road.Tarathel was determined to have a few private words with this self-styled Lord of Five Holds to ensure Fax did not try to encroach on Telgar lands.

Nip was as surprised as Robinton that Fax accepted.

"As you can see, I maintain several fully trained companies of guards, Master Robinton," Tarathel told Robinton and F'lon who had arrived early in the Gather morning.Indeed, the Hold and its grounds seemed to be swarming with men in Telgar liveries.

F'lon nodded approvingly."The man has got to be stopped, Tarathel."

The Telgar Holder scowled, unused to such familiarity from a much younger man, even if a Weyrleader was equal in rank to a Lord holder Robinton nudged the bronze rider in the ribs, hoping to jar him into more discretion.F'lon ignored the hint.

"And it's up to you Lord Holders to set him right.When Thread comes, he'll be unable to provide adequate help to the holds he's taken over."

Tarathel raised the black and bushy eyebrows which gave him such a formidable appearance."Really, Weyrleader?I had no idea the return was so imminent.May I ask what Benden Weyr will be able to do to provide adequate help to us?"

F'lon stiffened and Robinton kept his expression bland with an effort.As far as the MasterHarper knew, this was the first time a Lord Holder had openly challenged the Weyr.Clearly F'lon didn't like it one bit.

"Benden Weyr will be ready to meet Thread when it comes, Lord Tarathel.On that you can rely," he said with such dignity and purpose that Tarathel nodded approval.

"When it comes," he murmured as he moved off to greet the next wave of guests arriving by dragon.

"Look, F'lon, I've been your ffiend since we were boys," Robinton said, drawing the dragonrider to one side for privacy, "but you've as much tact as a tunnel snake.It doesn't do the Weyr, or you, any good to antagonize all the Lord Holders."

"I don't, but Tarathel's as hide-bound as Raid, and that's saying a lot."

"Tarathel will be long dead before Thread comes.Were I you, I'd start right now getting young Larad on your side.Unless, of course, Fax decides to duel with him and remove competition."

"Humph!"

Robinton was relieved to note that F'lon did not dismiss that suggestion out of hand.In fact, the bronze rider made a point of seeking out the lad who, like any male his age, was gratified to be in a Weyrleader's company.

What happened later that afternoon was so grotesque that afterwards Robinton cursed himself, plagued with a sense of guilt that his idle remark could have had such devastating consequences.

He saw the beginning: a lad wearing Fax's colours knocking into Larad, at F'lon's side, and then irritably demanding an apology.

Larad was surprised and started to comply, but F'lon stopped him.

"You knocked into Larad, boy," F'lon told the lad."You will apologize to young Lord Larad.He ranks you."

"I'm with Lord Fax, Dragonrider." The boy's tone and sneer were contemptuous.

Robinton had not yet reached the little group when F'lon backhanded the boy, cutting his lip.

"You will keep a civil tongue in your head and you will apologize to Lord Larad, who is of Telgar Blood.I doubt you can claim even half-Blood rights."

"Kepiru?Who gave you a bloody lip?" And a heavyset man, also wearing Fax's colours and the shoulder knot of a captain, though generally those were reserved for ships' captains, pushed through those watching the encounter.

Robinton felt the tension in the air as he reached F'lon."Now, what appears to be the problem?" he said in his best conciliatory manner.

Larad gratefully turned to the MasterHarper.He was confused and highly embarrassed.

"That…dragonrider? ' the captain's tone was as contemptuous as Kepiru's had been ‘? has struck my young brother, insulting our Blood.The matter requires redress."

"Redress from your brother to Lord Larad most certainly," F'lon said, bristling.

Robinton caught F'lon by the arm, pressing it hard to cool him down.He was beginning to fear that this trivial incident had been contrived.The underfed lad looked no more like a brother to the captain than Larad did.

"That's right.I observed the whole thing as I came," the harper said, smiling pleasantly."An accident." He leaned heavily on that word, pulling at F'lon even as he felt the tension and anger building in the dragonrider's body."This is a Gather, a meeting of folk in good faith and for pleasant purposes." He smiled winningly at the two in Fax's colours, but they were having no more of his mediation than F'lon was.

Then, to emphasize F'lon's indignation, Simanith rose from his perch on the heights and spread his wings, bugling.

"Larad requires an apology," F'lon insisted."That lout deliberately knocked into him."

"This is a Gather, F'lon," Robinton said urgently, scanning the growing crowd for anyone he could call upon for assistance.

Looking beyond to see if he could spot Lord Tarathel near by, he was relieved to catch a glimpse of Nip and jerked his head.He saw Nip raise a hand in reply and dash off."Accidents can occur when folk are sometimes less careful in this relaxed atmosphere."

"Enough," F'lon said, shaking off Robinton's restraining hand.

"It was as deliberate as the slurs on dragonriders."

"Ha!Dragonwomen!" the captain said in a scathing tone.

That insult inflamed F'lon."I'll show you dragonwomen," he said and drew the knife from his belt.

The captain's knife seemed to appear in his hand with uncanny speed and Robinton's fears increased.He made another attempt to gain control of the situation.

"This is a Gather," he repeated, stepping between the two men who had eyes for no one but each other.

"Out of the way, Harper," the captain snarled."Your colour doesn't protect you or him."

The crowd had backed away the moment the flash of steel was seen and formed a circle around the five.The next moment, Kepiru barged out of the way and disappeared from sight.

"Move off, Robinton.This is not your fight," said F'lon, crouching as he shoved Robinton out of the way.

"Wait!The Lord Holder has been summoned!"

"Then let him watch the Weyrleader die!" the captain cried, a wild smile on his face.Crouching, he stepped sideways, not towards the dragonrider but close enough to Robinton so that when he moved, it was the MasterHarper his blade scored.Robinton clutched at his arm, blood oozing out of the long gash.

F'lon let out an inarticulate cry of rage and rushed the captain.

"I'll see he regrets that, Rob!"

"Harpers, dragonwomen, much the same cowardly clutch."

"Keep your head," Robinton called to F'lon.He was too alarmed to feel pain and was grateful when someone wrapped a kerchief around the bleeding wound.

Simanith continued to bugle, and the other dragons picked up the challenge at the top of their lungs.If this didn't bring the other riders to help, surely the calls would alert the Lord Holder and he would be able to stop the fight before more blood was shed.

Perhaps that was why the captain surged forward, determined to finish before he could be interrupted.He was fast, he was clever with the blade, and he was determined.F'lon was equally quick on his feet, but he was livid with anger at the attack on the MasterHarper.

The captain drew first blood, slicing F'lon across the midriff through the loose shirt, causing a hiss of surprise and pain to escape F'lon's lips.At that F'lon lost all caution, rushing in to grapple his opponent's knife hand, trying to sink his blade in wherever he could.But the captain was stronger and far cooler.

F'lon was accustomed to fair fighting and opponents who would not risk the life of a dragonrider.The captain had no such inhibitions, and displayed a knowledge of tricks which had probably brought him victory in other brawls.He was also heavier and, letting fly a kick which had the crowd gasping out "foul play', he unbalanced F'lon and flung him breathless to the dirt.Diving on the prone dragonrider, he brought his knife up under F'lon's guard and into his ribs.

F'lon gave one massive jerk and died.

Simanith let out a hideous shriek of anguish and pain, launching between before the last breath of life left his rider.Robinton was rocked to his soul by that sound and the death of his friend.

An awful silence fell over the Gather.Even those far from the scene and ignorant of what had just happened were stunned by the dragon's cry and his disappearance.Then the keening of the other dragons informed the entire Gather that a dragonrider had died.

"Seize him," Robinton said, pointing to the captain before he, too, could slip away as Kepiru had done.

He knelt by F'lon, whose amber eyes were wide open in surprise, their light already fading.Robinton closed them and bowed his head, reeling emotionally and physically from the hideous end to a stupid, senseless encounter.

"I would have apologized," a small, scared voice said beside him.

Robinton lifted his head and put his hand on Larad's shoulder.

"No, Larad, you were not at fault."

"But he's dead," Larad said, his voice breaking."A dragonrider's dead!"

"What this?What…Shards!" Lord Tarathel broke through the crowd and stumbled into the dusty circle.Larad ran to his father, burying his head against him and weeping.

"It was no accident, Lord Tarathel," Robinton said quietly and for the Holder's ears only."No accident."

The captain was struggling with those who were quite glad to hold him, and less than gently.If no one had wanted to interfere in a dagger duel, no one had wanted the death of a dragonrider, nor the ear-splitting sounds of the grieving dragons.

R'gul and S'lel, with C'gan right behind them, arrived, their faces anguished.Seeing F'lon's lifeless body, R'gul's face became a study in conflicting emotions, none of which did the dragonrider any credit in Robinton's eyes.S'lel was at least honestly distressed, while unashamed tears streaked down C'gan's homely face as he knelt, hands hovering hopelessly over his wingleader's body.

"I've warned him often enough," R'gul murmured, shaking his head."He would never listen."

Disgusted, Robinton turned away, and it was then that Tarathel noticed his bloody arm.

"For that alone, that man goes to the islands," Tarathel said, his voice taut with anger."Surely he saw your Master's knots?"

"And disregarded them as easily as he ignored F'lon's rank," Robinton said, scanning the faces in the crowd.Fax should be arriving to view the result of his scheme, and that could be a second disaster.The law stated unequivocally that any man who deliberately killed a dragonrider was to be transported to one of the islands in the Eastern Sea.No trial was required if there were witnesses…which there were."R'gul, convey this man to the islands.Is that not correct, Lord Tarathel?"

"Yes, it most certainly is," Tarathel agreed.He had just listened to his son's account of what had happened."Bronze rider, do you your duty."

"But there's been no trial," R'gul protested.

"By the First Egg, R'gul," C'gan said, horrified at the hesitation.

"I'll take him myself." He stepped forward to grab the captain by the arm.

"Release my captain!" cried Fax, shoving a rough path through the crowd.He caught the captain by the arm and started to pull him away from C'gan, glaring menacingly at the shorter blue rider.

C'gan had his knife drawn and, though he was much lighter than his would-be captive, his outrage provided him with greater strength: he did not relinquish his grip on the murderer.

"Your captain has just killed the Weyrleader," Tarathel said, every bit as resolute as C'gan.

"Who no doubt deserved what he got," Fax said, grinning and showing his teeth, and glancing about the crowd to gauge reactions.

"You know the law regarding murder, Fax," Tarathel replied.

"There is no recourse if a dragonrider has been slain.C'gan, since you have? "

"There's been no trial," Fax said.

"Since when did you reinstate trials?" Tarathel said ominously, his hand going to his knife hilt."I am Lord Holder here.The death occurred on my lands and at my Gather.I judge your man guilty of unprovoked attack: first against my son, second against the MasterHarper, and finally and most outrageously against the Benden Weyrleader, an attack that ended in murder.For either of the two second counts, he merits banishment."

"I think not," Fax said."Release him!"

Suddenly there were other men ruthlessly penetrating the crowd and stepping up to Fax, their aggression obvious in their eyes and manner.They all wore Fax's colours.Tarathel's eyes widened with fury.

"No!" Robinton cried, gesturing to the crowd.Fax's crew might be armed and dangerous, but there were only eight of them, while the crowd must number close to a hundred."Telgar.Defend your Holder!"

With a roar of protest, Fax and his men were overwhelmed by those around him, grabbing at their arms and bodies and preventing them from drawing their weapons.Even R'gul and S'lel assisted while C'gan somehow tried to keep a firm grip on the murderer.Suddenly the blue rider cried for assistance as the man sagged and collapsed, a dagger through one eye.

And the dragons bellowed with triumph.

One look at the hilt of that slender throwing knife and Robinton knew who had cast it.He marvelled that Nip had been able to fling it so accurately through the milling crowd.

Fax and his men were hurried away to their camp, where they were forced to pack up.A force of fifty willing holders and crafters assembled to escort the unwelcome guests all the way back to their borders.Lord Tarathel supplied food and runner-beasts to those who had none.

R'gul, S'lel and the other dragonriders took the body of their dead Weyrleader back to Benden.With a fresh wound, Robinton was prevented by the Hold's healer from accompanying his friend, but he drummed the awful message to every Hold and Hall.Only when he had completed that task could he rest. Nip slipped into Robinton's guest room late that night, rousing the MasterHarper from a restless sleep.

"Bad wound?" Nip asked solicitously.

"Annoying," Robinton replied, pulling himself carefully up in the bed as Nip kindly stuck pillows behind him.He grimaced at the pain of resettling the arm.The Hold's healer had given him quite a lecture on the stupidity of drumming messages with an arm in that condition.It shouldn't have required stitching if it had been attended to immediately, he was told in a sour voice.So he had endured the process, well fortified by a hefty fellis draught."Good throw."

"You saved my knife?I'm fond of that blade.Superb balance," said Nip.

"Over there in the first drawer," Robinton said, nodding to the chest opposite the bed."You'd no idea what Fax had planned?"

"None." Nip shook his head sadly as he retrieved his knife."You may be sure I would have warned you had I had any idea.It must have been planned before they got here.I've been lurking? ’ he grinned "? where I might overhear something of value.My personal opinion is that they were just waiting for an opportunity.And they were taking no chances.I saw several other unlikely pairs, a lad and a bruising fighter, circulating the Gather.Wondered at such a pairing for Fax's men.They were after F'lon, no doubt about it."

"My feeling, too.Shards, they may have been planning such an assault since the last Telgar Gather was cancelled when Grogellan died." Robinton sighed heavily and reached for the numbweed salve.

As he fumbled with the sling around his arm, Nip took over and, with unusually gentle fingers, daubed the sewn wound with the salve.The relief was intense.

"Didn't realize Gifflen got you."

"Gifflen?

"That was the man's name. I'd marked him as a troublemaker.

He's been thrown out of several holds and his apprentice hall for provoking fights and bullying.He's killed often.I preferred that he didn't walk away from this one."

Robinton nodded in agreement."More would thank you if they knew.I thank you."

"Clever of you to shout like that.Stirred them all to their senses."

Robinton exhaled, remembering."We've all become soft, you know.Letting someone else take the blame or do the disagreeable."

"That's why Fax controls as many holds as he does." Nip's tone was harsh."Rob, you've got to shake the Lord holders awake before he takes another one."

"I've done what I can.Groghe's training men, so is Oterel and, after this, Tarathel will be wary."

"What about Kale at Ruatha?"

"I plan to see him on my way back."

"How soon before you could travel a-dragonback?"

"I think I've lost that privilege."

"No." Nip shook his head."Drum C'gan.He'll come any time.

Too bad F'lon's sons aren't a little older."

Robinton frowned."I haven't had a chance to get to know them, not as I did their father.R'gul keeps the Weyr so much to itself.I should go…"

"You should not.You should get to Ruatha Hold as fast as you can."

Then Nip was on his feet and at the door."See you.I'll be in touch."

"Nip, where…" But the door was already closing silently behind the man.

Despite the fellis and the numbweed, it took Robinton a long while to sleep again.

Tarathel reluctantly let him start the journey back to the Harper Hall two days later when an equally reluctant Hold Healer permitted it.The Lord Holder sent six men as escort.

"Don't be a fool, Master Robinton," Tarathel said, scowling.

"The Hall may have played down the attacks made on harpers over the last few Turns, but that doesn't mean they aren't known.And Gifflen's attack on you was inexcusable.I've even heard that Evenek was lured to Crom at Fax's instigation, so he could make him an example." He paused, his voice becoming more gentle."Did Evenek ever play again?"

"He can play.He'll never sing again."

"Well, then," Tarathel said, stern again, "you'll travel back from here without incident and as I deem you should go, with an escort."

So Robinton accepted, though he would rather have travelled on his own, because he was certain that the men would have orders to keep to a reasonable pace in deference to his injury.

There was nothing reasonable about his urgent need to talk sense into Kale.He wished that the Ruathan Holder had been at the Gather, but his spouse had recently given birth to a son, so he had remained at his Hold.The other Lord Holders who had been present had received salutary shocks: the murder of a dragonrider, an attack on a MasterHarper, and then Fax's rejection of Tarathel's valid judgment on the assassin. Robinton was sure he wasn't the only one who had trouble remembering that such a word, assassin, existed in the vocabulary.

"An escort is necessary, MasterHarper Robinton," Tarathel said, scowling."It is bad enough that you were attacked at all.I fear a man so lost to honour as Fax has proved himself would not hesitate to make an attempt on your life again if you were not close-guarded."

"He has scarcely had time to return to? ' Robinton paused.

"I will believe anything of that man now," said Tarathel. "You'd do well to limit your wanderings, MasterHarper, or ride with an escort."

"Limit my wanderings?That I cannot in conscience do, not now."

"Be careful then, Robinton." Tarathel pressed his hand warningly against Robinton's uninjured shoulder."I've put one of my best runner-beasts at your disposal."

Robinton thanked the Lord Holder…though he wasn't so sure how thankful he should be when he tried to mount it.Three men had to hold the black's head.Once he was in the saddle, the animal became obedient…at least to Robinton.No one on foot could get near enough to hand the harper his saddlebags.After that, his gear was attached to the saddle when the runner was tacked, and even that took several men.

The runner-beast was, however, a very smooth-gaited, powerful creature with a habit of charging on ahead, so that Robinton's escort was hard put to keep up with him.Gradually, he got the trick of dealing with Big Black and they came to an understanding, largely encouraged by thesweetener which Robinton would offer the animal when he had reached the saddle unscathed.But reining him in was another story: the trip went faster than perhaps the healer could have wished, and Robinton was almost faint with relief when he saw the children playing on the front court of Ruatha Hold.

The journey was seven days of hard travel.If Robinton regretted the absence of dragon wings, he knew more now about this area than he previously had, information that might prove valuable.

The way into Ruatha Hold was appallingly open.He would have to incite Lord Kale to post guards, raise beacons and alert the outlying cots and holds, in case Fax had his eye on this prosperous Hold.

"Surely there must have been some good reason behind the captain's attack on F'lon," Lord Kale remarked to Robinton as he offered hospitality to the MasterHarper.

He was a tall, slender man with dark hair and grey eyes, but his manner was gentle and it was obvious from the affection in which his stewards held him that he was a good Holder, considerate of his people and painstaking in his dealings with them.That made for contented holders, but it was a frail weapon against a man of Fax's proven character.Robinton was more fearful than ever.

"If you'd been there, Lord Holder," said Macester, the leader of the escort, with an earnest scowl of anxiety, "you'd've known it was no accident, and we're lucky the MasterHarper wasn't killed too.Giffien was out to do as much damage as he could.And then try to snake his way out of banishment."

"Heat of the moment." Kale smiled patronizingly.

Just then a small girl, her wide grey eyes immediately establishing her as Kale's daughter, toddled up to him, holding her arms out.

"Ah, Lessa, not now, pet." But he picked her up and carried her to the door, where her attendant arrived to take her away.

She kicked and screamed, straining backwards so that Robinton saw the thin face and the immense eyes, framed by a tangle of dark curly hair.

" Spirited at just four Turns," said Kale with an indulgent smile.

"Lord Kale, as MasterHarper of Pern I implore you to follow the examples of the other Lord Holders in the west, to train men to defend this Hold.To set up a border guard with beacons to alert? "

Kale held up his hand, smiling in condescension."My people are very busy with ordinary tasks, Master Robinton.It is spring, you know, and we've herds to manage and young animals to train to saddle."

"Did it never occur to you that your fine runner-beasts would be invaluable to Fax when he needs to cover the plains to Telgar?" Robinton said insistently.

"Oh, come now, Master Robinton, he buys our runner-beasts, and that's good for Ruatha," Kale replied with a laugh."More klah?

Surely you have time to stay the night.Ruatha Hold would be honoured."

Suddenly Robinton wanted to put distance between himself and this trusting fool.He got purposefully to his feet, about to refuse, when he saw the weary look on Macester's face and the man's obvious inclination to spend a night in the comfortable surroundings of one of the major Holds.

"And we are extremely grateful for the courtesy," he said as graciously as he could.

The door to Kale's private office was still open after his daughter's entrance and the sounds of a struggle, man against a furious animal, could be heard.

"He's at it again," Macester said under his breath as both he and Robinton moved to the door.Kale, curious, followed them out to the broad outer court where Big Black was attempting to take chunks out of the Ruathan who had hold of his reins.Robinton noted wryly that none of the escort had taken charge of the beast.

"That's a splendid animal," Kale said, pausing on the top step to take in the scene."Circle him, Jez," he called to the handler."One of Tarathel's mountain breeds, isn't he?"

"Yes," Robinton agreed, dispassionately watching the beast's antics.He felt for a sweetener lump in his pocket and, finding one, stepped forward, speaking in soothing tones and reaching for the reins as a very wary Jez circled.

"Easy now, there's a fine lad." His voice got through to Big Black and the animal extended his nose towards the MasterHarper, seeking the treat he expected.

"Quite a handful," Kale remarked.

"Until you're in the saddle," Robinton said, rather pleased he could say that honestly in front of a noted rider like Lord Kale.

Kale chuckled."Now, Macester, if you'll have your men lead your mounts up to the beasthold? ’ he pointed up the lane to the left ‘? we'll see to your comfort."

"And if your healer would check Master Robinton's arm,"

Macester said, ignoring Robinton's protest, "I would be easier."

"Your arm?" Kale was all concern."Surely it was only a glancing blow…"

"Which required seven stitches," Macester said in a growl.

So Kale hurried the Harper back into the Hold and shouted for the healer.

"I had so hoped to hear some new music this evening…" the Lord Holder began wistfully.

"Oh, you will, you will," said Robinton, dismissing his injury.

"You've Struan here? ' He grinned at the prospect of seeing his old dorm-mate, now a very competent journeyman."And I understand Lady Adessa plays harp as well as any harper."

"But your wound…"

"Didn't touch my throat, Lord Kale." And mentally Robinton reviewed the sort of songs that might alter Kale's indolence.He could but try.In ordinary times, and these were definitely not, Kale would be the ideal Lord Holder, tolerant, easy-going and affable, immersed in his Hold's business and sure of its continuing prosperity.

After Robinton's wound was tended to, he climbed to the Drum Tower, greeted the young holder on duty there, and asked for and received permission to signal the Harper Hall of his imminent return.

The child, Lessa, appeared briefly at the beginning of the evening's entertainment, but fell asleep in her father's lap: Robinton was amused, since he'd been singing a rousing song which had occasioned much stamping of heavy boots and rhythmic clapping.One of the nearby holders who had been invited to the evening meal was clever with spoons and joined the other players.

Ruatha's main Hall, with its excellent acoustics, was marvellous to play in, though Robinton rather thought the wall-hangings helped.He sat opposite the largest one, a stunning spectacle of dragonriders hovering above what was obviously Ruatha Hold, though the design of the faqade had been improved since the tapestry was hung.There were queens too, their riders carrying long wands from which flame spewed, matching the ones used by the crews on the ground.He could even make out the Fort Hold device on the ground crews' shoulders, so detailed was the scene.

Lady Adessa had certainly taken Hold here.He recalled the Hall from a previous visit with Lord Ashmichel, and at that time the chamber had been dark and dingy.What was the old saying about new spouses and brooms?

Robinton found a little tune dancing in his head, in competition with the one his fingers were playing.His left arm was not bothered by his playing; he had briefly worried that the muscles or the tendons might have been damaged by Gifflen’s knife.

The next morning, after a good sleep in a wide and comfortable bed, Robinton felt well rested for the remainder of his journey.He only wished, as Jez gave him an experienced leg up to Big Black's back, that he had been able to get more cooperation from Lord Kale.At least the Holder had agreed to setting up border patrols along the Nabolese border and erecting fire beacons on the heights.

"I doubt they will ever be used," Kale had said in parting, leaving Robinton sighing as he turned the black's head south and east to the main ford of the Red River.

On the way back, spouses and brooms did a stately dance in the MasterHarper's mind as he took the instance and tried to make it musical.Melodies seemed to plague him at the most inauspicious moments, but he was grateful for the return of such spontaneity.He used it as a gauge to check his grasp on the essence of his responsibilities.

Nip returned to the Hall several weeks later, looking gaunt and weary.

"You're staying until Master Oldive says you're fit for it," Robinton said, escorting Nip to the healer premises beyond the Harper Hall.

"It?" Nip said, grinning up at his MasterHarper with mischief as he tried to keep up with Robinton's long stride.

"Whatever it is you'll be up to next." Robinton shortened his steps in deference to Nip's exhaustion.

"Let me report first, Rob," said Nip, trying to wriggle free.

"I won't listen to a word until you are gone over, washed, and fed," Robinton said firmly.

Nip knew when to give in to a superior.

Master Oldive commented on the number of bruises and scrapes, and the two swollen and empurpled toes on one foot.

"He must bounce," the Master said with a sly grin after he had completed his examination.The spinal deformation which marred the Healer's back and had brought him to the Hall in the first place seemed to fascinate Nip, who kept trying not to look at it.Long since, Oldive had become impervious to such observations.

"Sound, if contused, but no lasting harm that a good hot bath, a double portion of whatever Silvina has in the hearth pot and several days in bed will not cure."

"Several days?" Nip would have jumped from the examining table but for the restraining hands of both healer and harper."I wouldn't mind a bath, I can tell you," he said more meekly, rubbing dirt-encrusted fingers together."And some decent food."

So he was given both, and he probably did not notice that Oldive, who joined him and Robinton in Silvina's little office, slipped something in his klah.He had finished his meal before the drug took effect; he was just pushing back the final dish of sweet pudding when he abruptly sagged down to the table top, his face just missing a splash of the pudding sauce that had spilled there.

"Good timing there, Oldive," Robinton commented.

"Yes, rather good, if I say so myself."

Silvina gave them each a jaundiced glance."The pair of you! You're wretches, dyed-in-the-bone wretches."

"Ever at your service, my pet," Robinton said, giving her a flourish which ended as he took one side of the unconscious Nip while Oldive took the other, lifting the limp form off his bench.With Silvina opening doors ahead of them, they carried the runner up tothe Harper's quarters where he was carefully laid down on the bed in the spare room and covered, to sleep himself out.

"That was a rotten trick, Robinton," Nip complained when he woke a day and a half later.Then his face dissolved into a grin which was singular enough to give him a totally different appearance.

"I needed that." He stretched and took the cup of klah which the Harper had readied as soon as he heard noises from that room. Robinton was privately amused that Nip's timing was good.He had begun to wonder about the man's whereabouts.

"So I'm ready to listen," Robinton said, as he started to pull the chair forward, "unless you wish to eat first."

"No, I'd rather not turn my stomach while I'm eating." And with that dour statement Nip warned Robinton that his report was bad.

"It's as well Tarathel sent so many.Vendross, who captained them, is a good man and a canny leader.He took no chances.There were more of Fax's louts camped at the Crom border Vendross spread his men out across the border and turned back those who tried to sneak right back into Telgar lands.There were a good number of Tarathel's regular guards, and those Vendross set to watch at the fiver holds and report any sightings.The others he sent back home."

Robinton nodded.At least Tarathel would take no chances that Fax might be coveting the broad Telgar Valley, not to mention the SmithCraftHall at the junction of the Great Dunto River.

"I sort of went forward three steps and back a few, trying to keep track of how many were splitting off.But the main group of fourteen continued on back to Crom.When I was sure that Vendross…"

"Does he know you?"

Nip made a face, tilted one hand back and forth, and then grinned again."Kind of.He never asks.I never tell.But he trusts my reports."

"As well he should."

"Thank "ee kindly, MasterHarper, sor," Nip retorted cheekily."So I kept on, ahead a bit, to see which way they might go." He shook his head, his expression sad."I wouldn't want to be under that man's Hold for any reason.What he does to those unfortunates there…" He shook his head, sighed, and then seemed to shake himself out of such reflections."I'll tell you this now, Harper, in case you ever need to know." The tone made Robinton regard Nip fearfully.

"Oh, I'm not saying you ever do need to know, but times being as they are, a little precaution is not untoward.Lytol who was L'tol? ’ and Robinton nodded to show that he knew who was meant

‘? is trying to keep his family's CraftHall going.Managing in spite of Fax, but I have a safe haven in the storage loft.It could well be that a dragonrider and a harper will bring that man down when the time's ripe." He paused."On the good side, I've found Bargen!"

"Have you now?" Robinton sat up straight with real pleasure at such tidings."Where?"

Nip gave one of his little chuckles."Not dumb, our young Lord Holder.He's up at High Reaches Weyr, with one or two others who made it safely out of Fax's clutches.Last place that one'd go."

"What's Bargen doing?Is he well?"

"Well, and doing a few exercises which may annoy Fax."

"Nothing that would endanger any of the innocent…" Robinton raised an anxious hand.

Nip cocked his head, grinning."Little that can be traced back to anyone in particular.I think Bargen's grown up, a bit roughly, but it'll work to his advantage."

"Do remind him that the Harper Hall will assist him any way it can."

Nip smiled ruefully."When and if the Harper Hall is able, my friend, considering harpers are in nearly as bad odour as dragonriders these days.At that, he could do little with the few men he has except wait." And that ruined Robinton’s fleeting dream of seeing Bargen Holding High Reaches in the near future."Any luck with Lord Kale?"

Robinton shook his head."The man's too good, too roasting.

He's already had Fax as a guest, selling him runner-beasts, so why would I suggest that Lord unconfirmed Holder Fax would not continue such blameless behaviour?"

"Spare us!" Nip waved a hand over his head in despair at such innocence.

"He has agreed to mount a border patrol and build beacons."

"That's quite a concession," said Nip with a degree of sarcasm and a grim smile.Then he rolled his eyes thoughtfully."You know, as a proper harper, I could drop a word in his ear now and then, keep him on his toes?"

"Have you…ever…been a proper harper, Nip?" Robinton asked, grinning.

"Oh, now and then," Nip said, wiggling the fingers of his right hand."Not that I'd dare flaunt the blue in Fax's vicinity." he finished the last of the klah and stood."I need another bath.That one only got off five layers of dirt and two of ache.Then I'm for another of Silvina's meals.She's quite a woman, isn't she?" Robinton felt his face colour.Nip missed nothing.

"One of a kind, as her mother was," the MasterHarper said blandly.

Nip chuckled and, whipping the towel off its peg on the door, whistled as he made his way to the bathing room.The MasterHarper's quarters had its own facility.