Dragonriders of Pern 4 - Dragonsinger

by Anne McCaffrey

  “They sang fine with me yesterday, sir,” said Piemur. Then he giggled. “Menolly told Master Shonagar that it’s hard to keep ’em quiet when you don’t want ’em singing. Right, Menolly?” Piemur chortled again, all his impudence revived. “That’s what happened the other morning, sir, when you didn’t know who was singing.”

  To Menolly’s relief, Brudegan laughed heartily, evidently reconciled. Menolly managed a shy and apologetic smile for that untoward incident, but the chorus leader was watching the fire lizards now. They were preening their wingtips or glancing about the room at all the people, oblivious to the sensation they had just caused.

  “Pretties sing pretty,” said Camo, appearing beside Menolly and Brudegan, a pitcher of steaming klah in one hand. He poured some into each empty cup, and then Menolly noticed that the drink was being served throughout the hall.

  “You liked their singing, eh, Camo?” asked Brudegan, taking a judicious sip from his mug. “Sing higher than Piemur here, and he’s got the best voice we’ve had in many a Turn. As if he didn’t know it.” Brudegan reached across the table to ruffle Piemur’s hair.

  “Pretties sing again?” asked Camo plaintively.

  “They can sing any time they like for all of me,” Brudegan replied, nodding to Menolly. “But right now, I want to get some practice done. We’ve that big chorale work to polish properly before Lord Groghe’s entertainment.” With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and tapped an empty klah pot for silence. “Don’t stop them if they feel like singing, Menolly,” he added, inclining his head toward the fire lizards. “Now, then, you lot. We’ll begin with the tenor solo, Fesnal, if you please…” And Brudegan pointed to one of the journeymen who rose to his feet.

  Listening to the rehearsal was not quite the same involving experience as directing. Then, Menolly had felt herself to be an extension of the choral group. Now she found it objectively interesting to observe direction, and to think what she would do with the same passages. About the time she decided that he was an exceedingly clever director, she realized that she’d been setting herself in comparison with a man in every way superior in experience and training.

  Menolly almost laughed aloud. Yet, she reflected, this was what life should be in a Harper Hall: music, morning, noon, afternoon and evening. She couldn’t have enough of it, and yet, she could now see the logic of afternoons spent on other chores. Her fingertips ached from the harp strings, and her scar felt hot and pulsed. She massaged her hand, but that was too painful. She’d left the jar of numbweed in the cot, which meant she’d have to wait until after Threadfall to get easement. She wondered if the girls knew what went on in the Harper Hall during Threadfall. Hadn’t Piemur said they were up at the Hold during Fall? She shrugged; she was far happier to be here.

  Once more the eerie alarm cut through other sounds. Brudegan abruptly ended the practice, thanking his chorus members for their attention and hard work. Then he stood back politely as a tall older journeyman walked quietly to the fireplace, raising his hands unnecessarily for attention.

  “Everyone remembers his duties now?” There was a murmur of assent. “Good. As soon as the doors are open, join your sections. With luck and Fort Weyr’s usual efficiency, we’ll be back in the Hall by suppertime…”

  “I’ve meatrolls for the outside crews,” announced Silvina, standing up at the round table. “Camo, take the tray and stand by the door!”

  A second weird hooting, and then the clang and ring of metal and a ponderous creaking. Menolly half wished that she were in a position to see the Hall doors working as light began to flood the outer hallway. A cheer went up, and the boys surged toward the entrance, some going across the tide to take meatrolls from Camo’s patiently held tray.

  Then the dining hall shutters clanked back, the afternoon sunlight an assault on eyes accustomed to the softer illumination from glow baskets.

  “Here they come! Here come!” rose the shout, and the flow toward the door became a scramble, despite the attempts of masters and journeymen to keep an orderly pace.

  “We can see as well from the windows, Menolly. Come on!” Piemur tugged at her sleeve.

  The fire lizards reacted to the excitement, streaking through the open windows. Menolly saw the spiral of dragons descending in wings to the ground beyond the Hall courtyard. Truly they made a magnificent sight. The sky seemed to be as clogged with dragons as just recently it must have been with Thread. The boys let out a cheer, and Menolly saw the dragonriders lifting their arms in response to the hurray! She might have lost her fear of Thread, of being caught out holdless, but she would never lose that lift of heart at the sight of the great dragons who protected all Pern from the ravages of Thread.

  “Menolly!”

  She whirled at the sound of her name and saw Silvina standing there, a slight frown creasing her wide forehead. For the first time since morning, Menolly wondered what she had done wrong now.

  “Menolly, has nothing been forwarded to you from Benden Weyr in the way of clothes? I know that Master Robinton dragged you out of there with scant time to assemble yourself…”

  Menolly could say nothing, realizing that Dunca had complained about her tattered trousers to Silvina. The headwoman was giving her clothes a keen scrutiny.

  “Well, for once,” and Silvina’s admission was grudging, “Dunca is right. Your clothes are worn to the woof. Can’t have that. You’ll give the Harper Craft a bad name, wandering about in rags, however attached to them you may be.”

  “Silvina, I…”

  “Great shells, child, I’m not angry with you!” And Silvina took Menolly’s chin firmly in her hand and made her look eye to eye. “I’m furious with myself for not thinking! Not to mention giving that Dunca a chance to snipe at you! Only don’t go repeating that, please, for Dunca’s useful to me in her own way. Not that you talk much anyhow. Haven’t heard you put two sentences together yet. There now! What have I said to distress you? You just come along with me.” And Silvina took Menolly firmly by the elbow and marched her toward the complex of storage rooms at the back of the Harper Hall on the kitchen level.

  “There’s been so much excitement these days, I haven’t any more wit about me than Camo. But then, every apprentice is supposed to come with two decent sets of clothing, new or nearly new, so it never occurred to me. And you having come from Benden Weyr, I thought…though you weren’t there long enough, now, were you?”

  “Felena gave me the skirt and tunic, and they took my measure for boots…”

  “And Master Robinton threw you a-dragonback before you could say a word. Well now, let’s just see,” and Silvina unlocked a door, flipped open a glow basket to illuminate a storeroom stacked from floor to ceiling with bolts of cloth, clothing, boots, hides made or uncut, sleeping furs and rolls of tapestries and rugs. She gave Menolly another appraising look, turning her from side to side. “We’ve more that’s suitable for boys and men from the Weaver and Tanner Halls…”

  “I’d really prefer trousers.”

  Silvina chuckled kindly. ‘You’re lanky enough to wear them well, I must say, and since you’re to be using an instrument, trousers will be handier than skirts. But you ought to have some finery, child. It does lift the spirit and there’re gathers…” She was sorting through folded skirts of black and brown, which she replaced disdainfully. “Now this…” and she pulled out a bolt of rich, dark red fabric.

  “That’s too fine for me…”

  “You’d have me dress you in drudges’ colors? Even they have something good!” Silvina was scornful. “You may not be proud in yourself, Menolly. In point of fact, your modesty has done you great service, but you will kindly consider the change in your circumstances. You’re not the youngest child in a family of an isolated Sea Hold. You’re an apprentice harper, and we”–Silvina tapped her chest smartly with her fingers—“have appearances to maintain. You will dress yourself as well as, and if I’ve my way, better than, those fumble-fingered females, or those musical midgets who will never
be more than senior apprentices or very junior journeymen. Now, a rich red will become you. Ah, yes, this will suit you well,” she said, holding the red up against Menolly’s shoulder. “Until I can have that made up, trous will, have to do,” and she held up a pair of dark blue hide pants to Menolly’s waist. “You’re all leg. And here.” She shoved a pair of close-woven blue-green trousers at Menolly. “This should match the leather pants, and it does,” she said tossing to Menolly a dark blue jerkin. “Put that lot on the chest there and try on this wherhide jacket. Yes, that’s not too bad a fit, is it? Here’s a hat and gloves. And tunics. Now these,” and from another chest Silvina extracted breast bands and underpants, snorting as she passed them to Menolly. “Dunca was quite incensed that you’d no underthings at all.” Silvina’s amusement ended as she saw Menolly’s face. “Whyever are you looking so stricken? Because you wore your underthings out? Or because Dunca’s pried into your affairs? You can’t honestly be worried what that fat old fool thinks or says or does? Yes, you can and you are and you would!”

  Silvina pushed Menolly backward until she sat abruptly on the chest behind her while Silvina, hands on her hips, regarded her with a curiously intense expression.

  “I think,” said Silvina slowly, in a very gentle voice, “that you have lived too much alone. And not just in that cave. And I think you must have been terribly bereft when old Petiron died. He seems to have been the only one in your Hold who understood what’s in you. Though why he left it so long to tell Master Robinton I simply don’t understand. Well, in a way I do, but that’s neither here nor there. One thing certain, you’re not staying on in that cot. Not another night…”

  “Oh, but Silvina—”

  “Don’t ‘oh but Silvina’ me,” the woman said sharply, but her expression was mocking, not stern. “Don’t think I’ve missed Pona’s little tricks, or Dunca’s. No, the cot is the wrong place for you. I thought so when you first arrived, but there were other reasons for plunking you there at first. So we’ll take the long view, as should be done, and shift you here. Oldive doesn’t want you on your feet so much, and sure as Fall’ll come again, the fire lizards are as unhappy at Dunca’s as she is to have them. The old fool! No, Menolly,” and now Silvina was angry with Menolly, “it is not your fault! Besides which, as a full harper apprentice, you really haven’t anything to do with the paying students. Further, you ought to be near those fire lizard eggs until they hatch. So, you’re staying here in the Hall! And that’s the end of the matter.” Silvina got to her feet. “Let’s just gather these clothes, and we’ll settle you right now. Back in the room you had the first night. It’s handy to the Harper’s and all—”

  “That’s much too grand a place for me!”

  Silvina gave her a droll look. “I could, of course, move all the furniture out, take down the hangings, and give you an apprentice's cot and a fold stool…”

  “I’d feel better about it…”

  Silvina stared at her so that Menolly broke off, flustered.

  “Why, you numbwit. You think I meant that?”

  “Didn’t you? Because the things in that room are far too valuable for an apprentice.” Silvina was still staring at her. “Having nine fire lizards is causing enough trouble. The room would be just grand, and if I’ve only the furnishings of any other apprentice, why, that’s proper, isn’t it?”

  Silvina gave her one more long, appraising look, shaking her head and laughing to herself. “You’re right, you know. Then none of the others could quibble about the change. But an apprentice’s cot is narrow, and you’ve the fire lizards to consider.”

  “Two apprentice cots? If you have them to spare—?”

  “Done! We’ll tie the legs together and heap the rushes high.”

  Which is what they did. Without the rich hangings and heavy furniture the chamber was echoingly empty. Menolly insisted that she didn’t mind; but Silvina said it wasn’t up to her because who was headwoman in this Hall? Hangings that Silvina had removed for shabbiness were recovered from storage, and Menolly was told that she could mend them when she had free time. Several small rugs were spread on the floor. A long table from the apprentices’ study (with a leg mended after being damaged in a brawl), a bench and a small press for storage gave the room some homeyness. Silvina said that the place looked heartlessly plain but certainly no one could fault it for not displaying an apprentice’s lowly state.

  “Now then, that’s settled. Yes, Piemur, you were looking for me?”

  “No, Silvina. It’s Menolly I’m after. For Master Shonagar. She’s dead late for her lesson.”

  “Nonsense, there’re no regular lessons on a Threadfall day. He should know that as well as anyone,” Silvina said, taking Menolly by the arm as she started to leave the room.

  “That’s what I told him, Silvina,” said Piemur, grinning from ear to ear, “but he asked me when had Menolly been assigned to a section. And, of course, I know she hasn’t, so he said that she’d have nothing better to do with her time so she’d better learn something constructive. So…” And Piemur shrugged his helplessness in the face of such logic.

  “Well, girl, you’d better go then. We’re all settled here anyway. And you, Piemur, you pop over to Dunca’s. Ask Audiva, politely, too, you imp, to bundle up Menolly’s things…including the skirt and tunic Menolly washed today. What else did you have there, Menolly?”

  Silvina smiled as if she knew perfectly well that Menolly was grateful not to have to return to the cot.

  “Master Jerint has my pipes so there’s only the medicines.”

  “Off with you, Piemur, and mind you make sure it’s Audiva.”

  “I’d’ve asked for her anyhow, Silvina!”

  “Bold as brass you are,” Silvina called after him as he scampered down the steps. “A good lad at heart. You’ve heard him sing? He’s younger than I like to have them in the Hall, but he does hold his own, rascal that he is, and where else should he be with a glorious treble voice like that? Planting tubers or herding the beasties? No, for such originals as Piemur and yourself, you’re better here. Off with you now, before Master Shonagar starts bellowing. We don’t really need a claxon with him in the Hall, so we don’t!’

  Silvina had walked Menolly down the steps and now gave her a gentle shove toward the open Hall doors as she turned toward the kitchen. Menolly watched her for a moment, suffused by an inarticulate gratitude and affection for Silvina’s understanding. The woman wasn’t at all like Petiron, and yet Menolly knew that she could go to Silvina, as she had to Petiron, when she was perplexed or in difficulties. Silvina was like…like a storm anchor. Menolly, trotting obediently across the yard to Master Shonagar, smiled at such a seamanly metaphor for a landbound woman.

  Master Shonagar did roar and bellow and carry on, but, buoyed by Silvina’s courtesies, Menolly took the berating in silence until he made her promise faithfully that whatever else happened to her during the morning hours, the afternoon was his, otherwise he’d never make a singer of her. So she was to report to him, please and thank you, through Fall, fog or fire, for how else was she to be a credit to his skill or the Craft Hall that had been pleased to exhibit its secrets for her edification and education?

  Chapter 7

  Don’t leave me alone!

  A cry in the night,

  Of anguish heart-striking,

  Of soul-killing fright.

  The restlessness of the fire lizards about her woke Menolly from a deep sleep. She wished irritably that they didn’t insist on sleeping with her; it had been an exciting and trying day, and she’d had a hard enough time getting to sleep. Her hand ached so from the day’s playing that she’d had to slather the scar with numbweed to dull the pain. Beauty’s tail twitched violently against Menolly’s ear. She nudged the little queen, hoping to stir her out of whatever dream disturbed her. But Beauty was awake, not dreaming: her eyes, yellow and whirling with anxiety. All the fire lizards were awake and unusually alert in the dark of the night.

  Seeing that Meno
lly’s eyes were open, Beauty crooned, a half-fearful, half-worried sound. Rocky and Diver minced up Menolly’s legs and crouched on her stomach, extending their heads toward her. Their eyes, too, were whirling with the speed and shade of fear. The rest, cuddling close against her, crooned for comfort.