of Petiron's ornate compositions, but to have mentioned such doubts would have seemed disloyal and a betrayal: as if his own songs merited more attention than his father's more ambitious works. It came as another shock that it was his music which Lobira used extensively – though Lobira did not know that Robinton had been the composer. That had been a secret kept in the Hall, evidently, and not made public even to Masters outside the Hall.
Robinton knew better than to make something of that approval, but it did much to help him endure Lobira's crotchety behaviour, his temper, his inconsistencies and his general dislike of having to break in a 'snot-nosed, wet-eared' novice.
Still, when the old Master saw how patient Robinton was with some of the more backward students, he began to mellow a trifle.
He even delivered a word or two of appreciation. Lobira himself was too short-tempered, and quick with a slap for the inattentive, so Robinton was given not only the slow but the very young, who had to be taught the basic Teaching Ballads. He didn't mind: in fact, it was a pleasure to sing those songs of his which Master Gennell had incorporated in the early Teaching Songs. It was a quiet contentment to him that his songs were used and he could sing them with a clear conscience.
He was also assigned the duty of spending several days of each seven-day going to the distant holds, often the only outsider they would see. These trips would end once the heavy weather settled in
the high hills; so he copied out extra music for the holders to keep and study until his next trip. He had to write a report for each of his journeys; to his surprise, Lobira went over these reports carefully.
Besides Robinton and Lobira's three apprentices, there was another journeyman harper, Mallan, who was High Reaches born, and who handled other Teaching routes and also some of the classes in the big Hold. The two journeymen shared a small inner apartment on the Holder's floor with two bed cubicles and a decent-sized day room, and shared the bathing facilities down the hall with the three apprentices who were quartered in one big inner room. Master Lobira had an outside apartment with his wife, Lotricia, a faded woman with an enchanting smile and a kindly manner reminiscent of Betrice's. She had been an apprentice healer when she met Lobira, but when they had become espoused she had ended her studies and accompanied him to his posting at High Reaches, where she devoted herself to rearing the four children of their union. The one daughter had married a High Reach holder and occasionally visited her parents with her children. The sons had been apprenticed to other trades, although they returned now and again for a High Reaches Gather.
'None of them could carry a tune in a sack,' Robinton once heard Lobira say in total disgust. 'Took after their mother's side.
But they've done well. They've done well.'
Lotricia was always bringing 'her boys' – as she called the journeymen – extra food. 'You're all growing, and you're all nothing but bones,' was her happy complaint, and her offerings were always welcome.
With such constant travel and the busy schedule in the Hold when he wasn't travelling, Robinton had little time to compose. He took to writing the tunes which filled his head while on the road, stopping frequently to note, in tiny cramped script, the measures that he had piped, whistled or sung into being as he trudged up and down steep tracks. He barely missed injuring himself on several occasions when composing so distracted him that he strayed off the narrow runner traces that were sometimes all he had to follow to his destination. The advantage of composing as he walked was that he could sing and play as loudly as he wished – often getting an answering echo from the hills around him.
With the first big snowstorm, his travelling came to a halt. In fact he was trapped for three days in Murfy Hold, which was cramped at best, and worse when the fifteen members of the hold were confined day and night.
Murfytwen, the twentieth man to hold there, broke trail for Robinton when the storm had died. He had an urgent need to collect supplies which he hoped were awaiting him at High Reaches, a trip he had delayed far too long.
'Easier to haul it all back on snow, though,' Murfytwen said cheerfully as he lashed the supplies to the sled which had been loaned him for the trip. 'See ya when I see ya, Harper. Thanks for them new tunes. We'll learn 'em good. An' Twenone will know his times tables by the time you're back again. Promise!'
With his gloved thumb up in a final gesture, Murfytwen started trudging back the way he had come.
High Reaches, set on its bluffs like the broadside of a fishing ship, had weathered many storms, and its thick walls kept all but the most shrieking winds from being heard. But living in this Hold was quite different from living in the Hall or even in Benden Hold. As every Hold should be, it was self-contained, with journeymen in all skills and a MasterMiner, Furlo, as well as his gangers who mainly worked for copper, which was always in demand. Master Furlo had a double quartet among his miners who sang most evenings – at the drop of a hat, as Mallan put it, grinning. Furlo was good on the gitar, having had to accompany his chorus since he was familiar with their repertoire, but Robinton offered to take over and Furlo was only too happy to accede. High Reaches Hold had enough instrumentalists, thanks to Master Lobira's efforts, to mount a considerable orchestra. The worst of the winter evenings would go by quite happily, with Lord Holder Faroguy and his Lady, Evelene, joining in from the head table. Three of their twelve children either played or sang creditably.
The evenings were not restricted to musical activities, but also featured wrestling and other such physical exercises. Robinton joined in the Hall and Step runs with enthusiasm. His long legs and the lung capacity singing had developed in him gave him an advantage.
He hadn't ever heard of Hall running – at Fort, even in the worst winters, one could get outside for exercise. But here, where the holders were confined by weather and terrain, the long Halls were put to use as sprinting alleys or for long-distance running. The stairs were also utilized to see who could get to the top and back fastest – preferably without breaking a leg. Sprained ankles were common, as were strained shoulders from grabbing banisters in the effort to prevent more serious falls.
Robinton did well enough in the running, but he eschewed the physical duels. Harpers tended to be pacifists – with a few notable exceptions: Shonagar had been champion wrestler in his home hold and at the Harper Hall, besting the holder of the mediumweight title at Fort Hold on three occasions. But harpers usually would not risk injuring their hands, and Robinton used that as a legitimate -and, to most, acceptable – excuse. That did not keep him from the censure of the acknowledged wrestling and duelling champion, a young man in his mid-twenties named Fax.
Even on his first encounter with the young holder – a question of who took the steps first at a landing where several Halls met -Robinton felt uneasy in the man's presence. Fax was aggressive, impatient and condescending. A nephew of Lord Faroguy, he had recently taken Hold of one of the Valley properties which he ran with a heavy hand, demanding perfection of all beholden to him.
Some craftsmen had asked for transfers to other holdings.
Robinton heard unsettling rumours about Fax's methods, but it wasn't for a harper to criticize – nor to take precedence over a holder – so he had courteously allowed Fax to go first. All he got for his deference was a sneer, and he noted that Fax, who had been striding with urgency to get somewhere, now slowed his pace deliberately. What that proved escaped Robinton completely, but it did give some of the rumours more credibility than he had originally thought.
One evening Fax went out of his way to get Robinton on the wrestling mats: not with himself but with one of his younger holders.
'An even match, I'd say, pound for pound and inch for inch,' Fax said, his expression bland but his eyes challenging.
'I fear I'd be no match at all,' Robinton said. 'As a harper, I've only the usual training in body sports. Now, if your holder sings, then I'll accept a contest.'
Fax regarded him a long moment and then, with a sneer, swung towards Lobira. 'One phase of training that is so often ignored, Master Lobira.'
Lobira was able to give back as well as take, and he did so with a matching contempt. 'Many a man has rued the day he tried to best a harper, young Fax, for song and story last longer than mere physical prowess,' he replied. 'Or is your lad still complaining that my long-legged lad has bested him in the Hall runs every time they've competed?'
Robinton was surprised that his Master was aware that Robinton had won so many of those races, and frankly amazed that his wins had disgruntled Fax. At the time, the runner-up had taken his losing in good part.
Fax awarded Master Lobira a sustained and disturbing look, gave Robinton a final contemptuous glance, and left. Robinton breathed a sigh of relief.
