Dragonsinger (3 page)

Silvina’s hands flew to her mouth. She glanced about her head as if expecting a swarm of fire lizards.

‘No, I’ve told them to wait,’ Menolly said quickly. ‘They won’t come in here.’

‘Now, you are a thoughtful child,’ Silvina said in so firm a tone that Menolly wondered why and then realized that she was the object of a good deal of furtive curiosity. ‘Camo, here. Give me that!’ Silvina took the cup from the man, who was walking with exaggerated care not to slop an overfull container. ‘And get the big blue bowl from the cold room. The big blue bowl, Camo, from the cold room. Bring it to me.’ Silvina deftly handed the cup to Menolly without spilling a drop. ‘The cold room, Camo, and the blue bowl.’ She turned the man by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shove in the proper direction. ‘Abuna, you’re nearest the hearth. Do dish up some of the cereal. Plenty of sweetening on it, too, the child’s nothing but skin and bones.’ Silvina smiled at Menolly. ‘No use feeding the fowl and starving the servant, as it were. I saved meat for your friends when we trussed up the roast,’ and Silvina nodded towards the biggest hearth where great joints of meat were turning on heavy spits, ‘since meat’s what the Harper said fire lizards need. Now, where would the best place …’ Silvina glanced about her undecidedly, but Menolly had noticed a low door that led up a short flight of steps to the corner of the courtyard.

‘Would I disturb anyone out there?’

‘Not at all, you are a considerate child. That’s right, Camo. And thank you.’ Silvina patted the half-wit’s
arm
kindly, while he beamed with the pleasure of a job properly done and rewarded. Silvina tipped the edge of the bowl towards Menolly. ‘Is this enough? There’s more …’

‘Oh, that’s a gracious plenty, Silvina.’

‘Camo, this is Menolly. Follow Menolly with the bowl. She can’t carry it
and
her own breakfast. This is Menolly, Camo, follow Menolly. Go right out, dear. Camo’s good at carrying things … at least what doesn’t spill.’

Silvina turned from her then, speaking sharply to two women chopping roots, bidding them to slice, not stare. Very much aware of scrutiny, Menolly moved awkwardly to the steps, cup in one hand, bowl of warm cereal in the other, and Camo shuffling behind her. Beauty, who had remained discreetly covered by Menolly’s hair, now craned her neck about, smelling the raw meat in the bowl Camo carried.

‘Pretty, pretty,’ the man mumbled as he noticed the fire lizard. ‘Pretty small dragon?’ He tapped Menolly on the shoulder. ‘Pretty small dragon?’ He was so anxious for her answer that he almost tripped on the shallow steps.

‘Yes, she is like a small dragon, and she is pretty,’ Menolly agreed, smiling. ‘Her name is Beauty.’

‘Her name is Beauty.’ Camo was entranced. ‘Her name is Beauty. She pretty small dragon.’ He beamed as he loudly declared this information.

Menolly shushed him, not wanting either to alarm or distract Silvina’s helpers. She put down her mug and bowl and reached for the meat.

‘Pretty small dragon Beauty,’ Camo said, ignoring her as she pulled the bowl so firmly clutched in his huge, thick-fingered hands.

‘You go to Silvina, Camo. You go to Silvina.’

Camo stood where he was, bobbing his head up and
down
, his mouth set in a wet, wide grimace of childish delight, too entranced by Beauty to be distracted.

Beauty now creeled imperiously, and Menolly grabbed a handful of meat to quiet her. But her cries had alerted the others. They came, some of them from the open windows of the dining hall above Menolly’s head, others, judging by the shrieks of dismay, through the kitchen and out the door by the steps.

‘Pretty, pretty. All pretty!’ Camo exclaimed, turning his head from side to side, trying to see all the flitting fire lizards at once.

He didn’t move a muscle as Auntie One and Two perched on his forearms, snatching gobbets of meat directly from the bowl. Uncle secured his talons to the fabric of Camo’s tunic, his right wingtip jabbing the man in the neck and chin as the littlest fire lizard fought for his fair share of the meat. Brownie, Mimic, and Lazybones ranged from Camo’s shoulders to Menolly’s as she tried to distribute the meat evenly.

Alternating between embarrassment at her friends’ bad manners and gratitude for Camo’s stolid assistance, Menolly was acutely aware that all activity had ceased in the kitchen to watch the spectacle. Momentarily, she expected to hear an irate Silvina order Camo back to his ordinary duties, but all she heard was the buzz of whispered gossiping.

‘How many does she have?’ she heard one clear whisper out of the general mumble.

‘Nine,’ Silvina answered, imperturbable. ‘When the two the Harper was given have hatched, the Harper Hall will have eleven.’ Silvina sounded smugly superior. The buzz increased in volume. ‘That bread’s risen enough now, Abuna. You and Kayla shape it.’

The fire lizards had cleared the bowl of meat, and Camo stared into its hollow, his face contorted by an expression of dismay.

‘All gone? Pretties hungry?’

‘No, Camo. They’ve had more than enough. They’re not hungry any more.’ In fact, their bellies were distended, they’d gorged so. ‘You go to Silvina. Silvina wants you, Camo,’ and Menolly followed Silvina’s example: she took him by the shoulders, turned him down the steps, and gave him a gentle shove.

Menolly sipped the good hot klah, beginning to think that Silvina’s marked attentions and kindness were deliberate. Or was that foolish? Silvina was just a kind, thoughtful person: look how she treated dull-witted Camo. She was patience itself with his inadequacy. Nonetheless, Silvina was obviously the headwoman at the Harper Craft Hall and, like serene Manora at Benden Weyr, undoubtedly wielded a good deal of authority. If Silvina was friendly, others would follow her lead.

Menolly began to relax in the warm sun. Her dreams last night had been troubled, though she couldn’t remember details now in the bright morning, only a sense of uneasiness and helplessness. Silvina had done much to dissipate the lingering misgivings.
Nothing to fear from harpers
, T’gellan had repeatedly told her.

Across the courtyard, young voices broke into a lusty rendition of the Saga previously chanted. The fire lizards rose at the eruption of sound, settling again as Menolly laughingly reassured them.

Then a pure sweet trill from Beauty soared in delicate descant above the apprentices’ male voices. Rocky and Diver joined her, wings half-spread as they expanded their lungs for breath. Mimic and Brownie dropped from the window ledge to add their voices. Lazy would not put himself to any such effort, and the two Aunties and blue Uncle were at best indifferent
singers
, but they listened, heads cocked, jewelled eyes whirling. The five singers rose to their haunches now, their throats thickening, their cheeks swelling as their jaws relaxed to emit the sweet pure notes. Their eyes were half-lidded as they concentrated, as good singers will, to produce the fluting descant.

They were happy then, Menolly thought with relief, and picked up the melody of the Saga, not that the fire lizards needed her voice with the apprentices supplying the tune and harmony.

They were on the last two measures of the chorus when Menolly suddenly realized that it was only herself and the fire lizards singing, that the male voices had ceased. Startled, she looked up and saw that almost every window about the courtyard was filled with faces. The exception were the windows of the hall from which the voices had come.

‘Who has been singing?’ demanded an irate tenor, and a man’s head appeared at one of the empty windows.

‘Why, that’s a grand way to wake up, Brudegan,’ said the clear baritone of the Masterharper from some point above Menolly and to her left. Craning her head up, she saw him leaning out of his window on the upper storey.

‘Good morning to you, Masterharper,’ said Brudegan courteously, but his tone indicated that he was disgruntled by the intervention.

Menolly tried to sit small, heartily wishing herself
between
: she was certainly frozen motionless.

‘I didn’t know your fire lizards could sing,’ Silvina said, appearing on Menolly’s right and absently retrieving mug and bowl from the steps. ‘A nice compliment to your chorus, eh, Brudegan,’ she added, raising her voice to carry across the courtyard. ‘You’d be wanting your klah now, Robinton?’

‘It would be welcome, Silvina.’ He stretched, leaned further out to peer down at Menolly. ‘Enter a fair of fire lizards singing! A lovely way to be wakened, Menolly; and a good morning to you, too.’ Before Menolly could respond, a look of dismay crossed his face. ‘
My
fire lizard. My egg!’ and he disappeared from sight.

Silvina chuckled and she regarded Menolly. ‘He’ll be of no use to anyone until it’s hatched and he’s got one of his own.’

At that point, Brudegan’s singers renewed their song. Beauty chirruped questioningly at Menolly.

‘No, no, Beauty. No more singing, not now.’

‘
They
need the practice,’ and Silvina gestured at the hall. ‘Now I’ve the Harper’s meal to see to and you to settle …’ She paused, glancing about at the fire lizards. ‘But what to do with them?’

‘They usually sleep when they’re as full as they are right now.’

‘All to the good … but where? Mercy!’

Menolly tried not to laugh at Silvina’s astonishment, because all but Beauty, who took her usual perch on Menolly’s shoulder, had disappeared. Menolly pointed to the roof opposite and the small bodies landing there, apparently out of thin air.

‘They do go
between
, don’t they?’ Silvina said more than asked. ‘Harper says they’re much like dragons?’ That was a question.

‘I don’t know that much about dragons, but fire lizards can go
between
. They followed me last night from Benden Weyr.’

‘And they’re obedient. I could wish the apprentices were half so willing.’ Then Silvina motioned Menolly to follow her back into the kitchen. ‘Camo, turn the spit. Camo, now turn the spit. I suppose the rest of you have been watching the yard instead of the food,’
she
said, scowling indiscriminately about the kitchen. The cooks and drudges alike pretended industry, clanging, banging, splashing or bending with assiduous care over quieter tasks of paring and scraping. ‘Better yet, Menolly,
you
take the Harper his klah, and check that egg of his. He’ll be roaring for you soon enough, so we might as well anticipate. Then I shall want Master Oldive to see your feet, not that Manora hasn’t all but healed them anyway. And …’ Silvina caught Menolly’s left hand and scowled at the red mark. ‘Wherever did you get such a fierce wound? And who bungled the healing of it? There now, can you grip with that hand?’ Silvina had been assembling on a small tray the various items of the Harper’s breakfast, the last of which was a heavy pot of klah. Now she gave the tray to Menolly. ‘There now. His room is the second door on the right from yours, Menolly. Turn the spit, Camo, don’t just hold on to it. Menolly’s fire lizards are fed and sleeping. You’ll have another gawk at them later. Turn the spit now!’

As briskly as Menolly could move on her stiff feet, she made her way out of the kitchen and up the broad steps to the second level. Beauty hummed softly in her ear, a gently disobedient descant to the Saga that Brudegan’s pupils were singing lustily.

Master Robinton hadn’t sounded annoyed about the fire lizards’ singing, Menolly thought. She’d apologize to Journeyman Brudegan when she got the chance. She simply hadn’t realized she’d cause a distraction. She’d been so pleased that her friends were relaxed enough to want to sing.

Second door on her right. Menolly tapped. Then tapped, then knocked, hard enough to make her knuckles sting.

‘Come. Come. And, Silvina … oh, Menolly, you’re just the person I wanted to see,’ the Harper said,
throwing
open the door. ‘And good morning to you, proud Beauty,’ he added, grinning at the little queen who chirped an acknowledgement as he took the tray from Menolly. ‘Silvina’s forever anticipating me … Would you please check my egg? It’s in the other room, by the hearth. It feels harder to me …’ He sounded anxious as he pointed to the farther door.

Menolly obediently entered the room, and he walked with her, setting the tray down as he passed the sandtable by the window and pouring himself a mug of klah before he joined her by the hearth in the next room where a small fire burned gently. The earthen pot had been set at the edge of the hearth apron.

Menolly opened it, carefully brushing aside the warm sand that covered the precious fire lizard egg. It was harder, but not much more so than when she had given it to the Masterharper at Benden Weyr the previous evening.

‘It’s fine, Master Robinton, just fine. And the pot is warm enough, too,’ she said, running her hands down the sides. She replaced the sand and the top and rose. ‘When we brought the clutch back to Benden Weyr two days ago, Weyr-woman Lessa said it would take a sevenday for them to hatch, so we’ve five days more.’

The Harper sighed with exaggerated relief. ‘You slept well, Menolly? You’re rested? Awake long?’

‘Long enough.’

The Harper burst out laughing as she realized how much chagrin she’d put into her tone.

‘Long enough to set a few people by the ears, huh? My dear child, did you not notice the difference in the chorus the second time? Your fire lizards have challenged them. Brudegan was only gruff with surprise. Tell me, can your fire lizards improvise descants to any tune?’

‘I don’t really know, Master Robinton.’

‘Still not sure, are you, young Menolly?’ He didn’t mean the fire lizards’ abilities. There was such kindness in his voice and eyes that Menolly felt unexpected tears behind her eyes.

‘I don’t want to be a nuisance …’

‘Allow me to differ both to statement and content, Menolly …’ Then he sighed. ‘You’re overyoung to appreciate the value of nuisance, although the improvement in that chorus is a point in my argument. However, it’s much too early in the morning for me to expound philosophy.’ He guided her back into the other room, quite the most cluttered place she had ever seen and in direct contrast to the neatness of his bedchamber. While musical instruments were carefully stored on hook and shelf in cases, piles of record skins, drawings, slates – wax and stone – littered every surface and were heaped in corners and against the walls of the room. On one wall was a finely drawn map of the Pern continent, with smaller detailed drawings of all the major Holds and Crafthalls pinned here and there on the borders. The long sandtable by the window was covered with musical notations, some of them carefully shielded by glass to prevent erasure. The Harper had set the tray on the centre island, which separated the sandtable into two halves. Now he pulled a square of wood to protect the sand and positioned the tray so he could eat comfortably. He smeared a thick slice of bread with soft cheese and picked up his spoon to eat his cereal, motioning with the spoon for Menolly to seat herself on a stool.