him. quickly, Lady Hayara gestured for Merelan to precede her into the room.
'We even have a bathtub, Mother,' Robinton exclaimed. 'Over my head, at least.'
Merelan laughed at him, but behind her Maizella raised her eyebrows contemptuously. Robinton was about to bristle when Falloner winked at him, reminding him of what he'd said about the girl a few minutes before.
'More high than wide like ours at the Hall,' he added defensively.
'We tap into the Weyr's heat source here at the Hold,' Lady Hayara said, 'which is such a blessing. So many holds have to heat bathing water. I do hope you'll be comfortable, Merelan,' she added as she led the way to the larger bedroom. 'I think there's enough room for a small bed in here, if you'd rather your son sleeps--'
'Goodness me,' Merelan said with a laugh, 'Robinton's much too big a lad not to have his own room.'
Robinton wanted to put his tongue out at Maizella for the haughty expression on her face, but he knew his mother wouldn't like him to. She reminded him of Halanna, and he really didn't need to deal with another Halanna disliking him.
'Well, we'll let you get settled in then. Come on, children, you can make friends at supper-time,' said Lady Hayara, resettling the child she carried in her arms as she gestured for the others to clear out. 'Ah, I see there's a tray for you since I know you've missed your usual lunch-time coming here. We'll be eating in another two hours, you know, what with the time difference coming east and all.'
Merelan smiled her gratitude and escorted her hostess to the door, the rest of the children following. When they were gone, she turned to Robie.
'Well!' she said with a big sigh, and then she smiled – a sad sort of smile – at her son. 'Let me see your room, love.'
'It's a lot like mine at the Hall, Mother...' And Robinton trailed off, the sadness in her smile suggesting he'd better not ask why they had left so abruptly and with no warning.
Though he did not follow her, his mother did look into his room in a perfunctory fashion.
'Did you and Falloner make friends on your way up?' she asked, wandering about the living room and touching this and that.
'He's weyrbred,' Robinton replied, still somewhat awed.
'Yes, he is. And I hope he's as eager to learn as the others. That's why I'm here.' And then she sat down in a chair and burst into tears.
Robinton rushed to her side, patting her arm and stroking her hair. His mother rarely cried. She hugged him to her, her tears soaking his shirt, but he knew only to hold on to her and repeat that they'd be fine, they were together, and Benden Hold seemed nice and the Lord Holders were so friendly and wanted them here.
'Yes, they do want us here, don't they?' she said finally, giving herself a little shake and sitting up straight. 'I'm sorry to have sprung this on you so abruptly, Robie, but Lord Maidir's been after me to come and teach music to these very promising youngsters.
Suddenly, I thought it might be a good idea for both of us to take a break from the Hall. Master Gennell thought so too, and urged me to take the posting. And there was the dragon ...'
'Spakinth is his name,' Robinton said when she paused.
She smiled through the last of her tears. 'How do you know that?'
'He told me.'
'C'rob told you?'
'No, Spakinth.'
She tilted her head to one side. 'You can hear dragons?'
'Well, when they want me to, I do.'
'Oh, Robie.' She embraced him tightly. 'Not many do. It might even mean you'd Impress, and that would solve everything.' She spoke the last over his shoulder as if more to herself than to him.
'But I could still be a harper, couldn't I?' He hadn't had a definitive answer to that question from the dragons. Maybe his mother would know.
'I think that depends on many things,' she said, drying her eyes, and suddenly she seemed more like herself. 'Like if there's a clutch when you're the right age. Dragons don't have as many eggs during an Interval, you see, and you're only Impressionable until you're twenty, and the weyrbred have preference. At least you'll get to understand more about the Weyrs, and that's all to the good.'
Again her remark was not meant for him, but he didn't mind because he'd like to know more about the Weyrs. The abandoned Fort Weyr was forbidden by order of Lord Grogellan. That might have been one reason why every boy had to go up there alone for a night when he turned twelve, or he'd be considered cowardly.
'Will I be able to visit the Weyr?' Robinton asked eagerly. That way, he'd know what a Weyr was like, and then an empty one wouldn't be as scary.
'I think that's likely. One of the reasons I'm here is to help C'gan, their current Weyrsinger. He desperately wants more training.' His mother gave a little laugh. 'I'll be so busy I won't--' She broke off and stood up. 'Well, let's get ourselves settled in, shall we? Or are you hungry enough to sample what's here?'
Robinton had spotted the large selection of sweet biscuits and pointed.
'Well, just two of them, so as not to spoil your appetite. I'll have one, too – they smell so good. Fresh ... every bit as good as Lorra makes.' And she chattered on as she insisted on helping him put his things away. 'I didn't want to overload the dragon,' she said, 'so I didn't bring everything you own, love, but your newest drum and pipes ... we've my gitar to practise on, and maybe we can get enough wood for you to start your own, because I know Master Bosler said you could start preparing the wood, which takes most of the time it takes to make a gitar, you know. I'm sure we can find gut for strings when the time comes to do that step. And your new Gather clothes, because they entertain quite a bit here at Benden, Lord Maidir and Lady Hayara being so popular on this coast.
There's a schoolroom, too, so we'll just leave these in the carisak now, shall we? Now, that's done and you can help me.'
As he did, Robinton realized that his mother hadn't brought many of her own clothes. Only one Gather dress and one of the long, fine dresses she'd use when she gave concerts. And while she had lots of new musical scores, mainly the ones she'd teach from, there was nothing in his father's familiar broad script. That was odd. His stomach felt a little queasy suddenly, and it wasn't from eating the sweet biscuits.
'Mother, will Father come visit us?'
She paused, her back to him at that moment, then slowly turned, her expression unusually bleak.
'That will be up to your father, Robinton,' she said, and turned
back to fuss with the things in the top drawer of the chest. 'Likely he'll come to the Spring Gather here at Benden,' she added in a totally different tone of voice, as if it made no difference to her at all. 'Now, let's wash up, shall we? I think that soon enough it'll be time to eat.' She gestured towards the fading light and then pulled the heavy curtains across each of the narrow windows, as if shutting out more than the end of this day.
At dinner that night, Robinton had a place with the Hold children: it was a crowded table for his age group – he counted twenty-four – but Falloner had held a place for Robinton beside him.
'No, you got to take his things up,' one of the Holder boys said, rushing to crowd into the space on Robinton's right. 'Mother said we' ve all got to make him feel at home, and you had your chance.'
'Rob and I are friends,' Falloner said loftily, 'but you can sit on the other side, Hayon. He's Lady Hayara's oldest son,' he added, and started naming everyone at their end of the table. 'Rasa's beside him, then there's Naprila, Anta, Jonno, and Drevalla on the other side.'
Robinton had a moment to glance up at the head table where his mother sat beside Lord Maidir, with Raid on her other side and Maizella by her stepmother.
'They got graduated off the younglings' table last year,' Falloner said with a sniff. He took the bread and board from the serving drudge and started cutting neat slices from the loaf, flipping them from the knife point up and down this end of the table until everyone had a piece. 'Stew, I betcha,' he added. His bet was a fair one, because the next thing to come was a big pot.
'My turn,' Anta said, standing up and grabbing the ladle before he could.
'Fair enough, only don't slop,' he said, sitting down again and shoving a friendly elbow into Robinton's side as he grinned.
The upper table was not receiving stew, Robinton noted, but bowls of soup first and then slices of what looked like wherry, sauces, dishes of vegetables, and individual loaves of bread. He also noticed that his mother was mushing her food around her plate instead of eating, although she was talking to both father and son and seemed
