Dragonsinger (2 page)

‘She was?’ Silvina stared over her shoulder at Menolly, her green eyes wide with respectful astonishment.

‘She nearly did, too. Ran her feet raw. One of my wing-men saw her and brought her back to Benden Weyr.’

‘In this room, T’gellan. The bed’s on the left-hand side. I’ll just open the glow baskets …’

‘I see it,’ and T’gellan deposited her gently in the bed. ‘I’ll get the shutters, Silvina, and let those fire lizards of hers in here before they do get into trouble.’

Menolly had let herself sink into the thick mattress of sweet rushes. Now she loosened the thong holding the small bundle of belongings to her back but she hadn’t the energy to reach for the sleeping fur folded at the foot of the bedstead. As soon as T’gellan had the second shutter open, she called her friends in.

‘I’ve heard so much about the fire lizards,’ Silvina was saying, ‘and had only the glimpse of Lord Groghe’s little queen that … Gracious goodness!’

At Silvina’s startled remark, Menolly struggled out of the thick mattress to see the fire lizards dipping and wheeling about the woman.

‘How many did you say you have, Menolly?’

‘There are only nine,’ replied T’gellan, laughing at Silvina’s confusion. She was twisting about, trying to get a good look at one or another of the gyrating creatures.

Menolly told them to settle down quickly and behave. Rocky and Diver landed on the table near the wall while the more daring Beauty took up her accustomed perch on Menolly’s shoulder. The others came to rest on the window ledges, their jewelled eyes whirling with the orange of uncertainty and suspicion.

‘Why, they’re the loveliest creatures I’ve ever seen,’ said Silvina, peering intently at the two bronzes on the table. Rocky chirped back, recognizing that remarks were being made about him. He flipped his wings neatly to his back and cocked his head at Silvina. ‘And a good evening to you, young bronze fire lizard.’

‘That bold fellow is Rocky,’ said T’gellan, ‘if I remember correctly, and the other bronze is Diver. Right, Menolly?’ She nodded, relieved in her weariness that T’gellan was ready to speak for her. ‘The greens are Aunties One and Two,’ and the pair began to chatter so like old women that Silvina laughed. ‘The little blue is Uncle but I haven’t got the three browns sorted out …’ and now he turned enquiringly to Menolly.

‘They’re Lazybones, Mimic and Brownie,’ Menolly said pointing at each in turn, ‘and this … is Beauty, Silvina,’ Menolly spoke the woman’s name shyly because she didn’t know her title or rank in the Harper Hall.

‘And a Beauty she is, too. Just like a miniature queen dragon. And just as proud, I see.’ Then Silvina gave Menolly a hopeful look. ‘By any chance, will one of Robinton’s eggs hatch a queen?’

‘I hope so, I really do,’ said Menolly fervently. ‘But it’s not easy with fire lizard eggs to tell which is the queen.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be just as thrilled no matter what the
colour
. And speaking of queens, T’gellan,’ and Silvina turned to the dragonrider, ‘do please tell me, did Brekke re-Impress the new queen dragon at your Hatching today? We’ve been so worried about her here, since her queen was killed.’

‘No, Brekke didn’t re-Impress,’ and T’gellan smiled quickly to reassure Silvina. ‘Her fire lizard wouldn’t let her.’

‘No?’

‘Yes. You should have seen it, Silvina. That little bronze midget flew at the queen dragon, scolding like a wherry hen. Wouldn’t let Brekke near the new queen. But she snapped out of that depression, and she’ll be all right now, F’nor says. And it was little Berd who pulled the trick.’

‘Well, that really is interesting,’ Silvina regarded the two bronzes with thoughtful respect. ‘So they’ve a full set of wits …’

‘They seem to,’ T’gellan went on. ‘F’nor uses his little queen, Grall, to send messages to the other Dragon Weyrs. Of course,’ and T’gellan chuckled disparagingly, ‘she doesn’t always return as promptly as she goes … Menolly’s trained hers better. You’ll see.’ The dragonrider had been edging towards the door and now gave a huge yawn. ‘Sorry …’

‘I’m the one who should apologize,’ replied Silvina, ‘indulging my curiosity when you two are all but asleep. Get along with you now, T’gellan, and my thanks for your help with Menolly.’

‘Gook luck, now, Menolly. I know you’ll sleep well,’ said T’gellan with a jaunty wink of farewell. He was out of the door, his boot heels clicking on the stone floor before she could thank him.

‘Now, let’s just have a quick look at these feet you ran ragged …’ Silvina gently tugged off Menolly’s slippers. ‘Hmmm. They’re all but healed. Manora’s
clever
with her nursing, but we’ll have Master Oldive look at you tomorrow. Now, what’s this?’

‘My things, I don’t have much …’

‘Here, you two watch that and keep out of mischief,’ Silvina said, putting the bundle on the table between Rocky and Diver. ‘Now, slip off your skirt, Menolly, and settle down. A good long sleep, that’s what you need. Your eyes are burned holes in your head.’

‘I’m all right, really.’

‘To be sure you are, now you’re here. Living in a cave, did T’gellan say? With every harper on Pern looking for you in holds and crafthalls.’ Silvina deftly tugged at skirt tapes. ‘Just like old Petiron to forget to mention you being a girl.’

‘I don’t think he forgot,’ Menolly said slowly, thinking of her father and mother and their opposition to her playing. ‘He told me girls can’t be harpers.’

Silvina gave her a long hard look. ‘Maybe under another Masterharper. Or in the old days, but surely old Petiron knew his own son well enough to—’

‘Petiron was Master Robinton’s father?’

‘Did he never tell you that?’ Silvina paused as she was spreading the sleeping fur over Menolly. ‘The old stubborn fool! Determined not to advance himself because his son was elected Masterharper … and then picking a place halfway to nowhere … I beg your pardon, Menolly …’

‘Half-Circle Sea Hold
is
halfway to nowhere.’

‘Not if Petiron found
you
there,’ said Silvina, recovering her brisk tone, ‘and sponsored you to this Craft. Now that’s enough talking,’ she added, closing the glow basket. ‘I’ll leave the shutters open … but you sleep yourself out, you hear me?’

Menolly mumbled a reply, her eyelids closing despite her effort to remain politely awake while Silvina was in the room. She let out a soft sigh as the door
banged
softly shut. Beauty immediately curled up by Menolly’s ear, and the girl felt other small hard bodies making themselves comfortable against her. She composed herself for sleep, aware now of the dull throbbing of her feet and the aching of her banged toes.

She was warm, she was comfortable; she was so tired. The bag that enclosed the thick rushes was stout enough to keep stray edges from digging into her flesh, but she couldn’t sleep. She also couldn’t move because, while her mind turned over all the day’s incredible events, her body wasn’t hers to command but in some nether region of unresponsiveness.

She was conscious of the spicy odour of Beauty, of the dry sweet scent of the rushes, the earthy smell of wet fields borne in by the night wind, accented occasionally by the touch of acrid blackstone smoke. Spring was not advanced enough to dispense with evening fires.

Strange not to have the smell of sea in her nostrils, Menolly thought, for sea and fish odours had dominated all but the last sevenday of her fifteen Turns. How pleasant to realize that she had done with the sea, and fish, forever. She’d never have to gut another packtail in her life, or risk another infected cut. She couldn’t use her injured hand as much as she wanted to yet, but she would. Nothing was impossible, not if she could get to the Harper Hall in spite of all the odds against it. And she’d play gitar again and harp. Manora had assured her she’d use the fingers properly in time. And her feet were healing. It amused Menolly, now, to think that she’d had the temerity to try to outrun the leading edge of Threadfall. Running had done more than save her skin from Threadscoring: it had brought her to Benden Weyr, to the attention of the Masterharper of Pern and to the start of a completely new life.

And her dear old friend, Petiron, had been Master Robinton’s father? She’d known the old Harper had
been
a good musician, but it had never occurred to her before to wonder why he had been sent to Half-Circle Sea Hold where only she had profited from his ability as a teacher. If only her father, Yanus, had let her play gitar when the new Harper first arrived … but they’d been so afraid that she’d disgrace the Sea Hold. Well, she hadn’t, and she wouldn’t! One day her father, and yes, her mother, too, would realize that Menolly was no disgrace to the Hold of her birth.

Menolly drifted on thoughts of triumph until sound invaded her reflections. Male voices, laughing and rumbling in conversation, carried on the clear night air. The voices of harpers; tenor, bass and baritone, in amused, argumentative, cajoling tones, and one querulous, sort of quavery, older, whiny voice. She didn’t like that one. Another, a velvet-soft, light baritone, rose above the cranky tenor, soothing. Then the Masterharper’s deeper baritone dominated and silenced the others. Though she couldn’t understand what he was saying, his voice lulled her to sleep.

CHAPTER TWO

Harper, tell me of the road

That leads beyond this Hold
,

That wends its way beyond the hill …

Does it go further on until

It ends in sunset’s gold?

MENOLLY ROUSED BRIEFLY
, reacting to an inner call that had nothing to do with the sun’s rising on this side of Pern. She saw dark night and stars through the window, felt the sleeping fire lizards tucked about her, and gratefully went back to sleep again. She was so tired.

Once the sun had cleared the roof of the outer side of the rectangle of buildings that comprised the main Harper Craft Hall, it shone directly at her windows, set in the eastern side of the Hall. Gradually the light penetrated the room, and the unusual combination of light and warmth on her face woke Menolly.

She lay, her body not yet responsive, wondering where she was. Remembering, she was uncertain what to do next. Had she missed some general waking call? No, Silvina had said that she was to sleep herself out. As she pushed back the sleeping furs, she heard the sound of voices chanting. The rhythm was familiar. She smiled, identifying one of the long Sagas. Apprentices were being taught the complicated timing by rote, just as she had taught the youngsters in Half-Circle Sea Hold when Petiron was sick, and later after he died. The similarity reassured her.

As she slid from the bed, she clenched her teeth in anticipation of touching the cool hard stones of the floor, but to her surprise, her feet only felt stiff, not painful, this morning. She glanced out the window at the sun. It was well into morning by the cast of shadow: she’d really slept. Then she laughed at herself, for, to be sure she had: she was halfway round Pern from Benden Weyr and Half-Circle Sea Hold, and she had had at least six hours more rest than usual. Fortunately the fire lizards had been as tired as she or they’d have wakened her with their hunger.

She stretched and shook out her hair, then hobbled carefully to the jar and basin. After washing with soapsand, she dressed and brushed her hair, feeling able to face new experiences.

Beauty gave an impatient chirp. She was awake. And very hungry. Rocky and Diver echoed the complaint.

Menolly would have to find them food and right soon. Having nine fire lizards would prejudice enough people against her, without having unmanageably hungry ones who would irritate even the most tolerant of people.

Resolutely, Menolly opened the door to a silent hallway. The aromatic odours of klah, baking breads and meats filled the air. Menolly decided she need only follow the smells to their source to satisfy her friends.

On either side of the wide corridor were doors; those on the outside of the Hall were open to let sun and air flood the inside. She descended from the uppermost level into the large entranceway. Directly in front of the staircase were dragon-high metal doors with the most curious closings she’d ever seen: on the back of the doors were wheels, which evidently turned the heavy bars into floor and ceiling. At Half-Circle Sea
Hold
there had been the heavy horizontal bars, but this arrangement would be easier to lock and looked much more secure.

To the left was a double-doored entrance into a Great Hall, probably the room where the Harper had been talking last night. To the right, she looked into the dining hall, almost as large as the Great Hall, with three long tables parallel to the windows. Also to her right, by the stairwell, was an open doorway, leading to shallow steps and the kitchen, judging by the appetizing odours and familiar sounds.

The fire lizards creeled in hunger, but Menolly couldn’t have the whole fair invading the kitchen and upsetting the drudges. She ordered them to perch on the cornices in the shadows above the door. She’d bring them food, she promised them, but they had to behave. Beauty scolded until the others settled meekly into place, only their glowing, jewel-faceted eyes giving evidence of their positions.

Then Beauty assumed her favourite perch on Menolly’s shoulder, her head half-buried in Menolly’s thick hair, and her tail wrapped securely about Menolly’s throat like a golden necklace.

As Menolly reached the kitchen, the scene with the drudges and cooks scurrying about preparing the midday meal fleetingly revived memories of happier days at Half-Circle. But here, it was Silvina who noticed her and smiled, as Menolly’s mother would not have done.

‘You’re awake? Are you rested?’ Silvina gestured imperatively at a slack-featured, clumsy-looking man by the hearth. ‘Klah, Camo pour a mug of klah, for Menolly. You must be famished, child. How are your feet?’

‘Fine, thank you. And I don’t want to bother anyone …’

‘Bother? What bother? Camo, pour the klah into the mug.’

‘It’s not for myself I’m here …’

‘Well, you need to eat, and you must be famished.’

‘Please, it’s my fire lizards. Have you any scraps …’