to listen to the brief message: 'Harper Safe.'
It took him a moment to realize that the message concerned him. That made him feel even more welcome than ever – to be the subject of drum talk.
And thus began Robinton's second stay at Benden Hold.
At Evarel's request, Robinton's effects had been put in the room he had shared with his mother during their previous stay at Benden Hold. It was Evarel's apartment, which he apologetically offered to share, if Robinton had no objections. His spouse had died some Turns back and he felt odd about having such a large apartment all to himself. Robinton was more than pleased because, while the inner rooms at High Reaches had been only one corridor away from outside, he much preferred having outer wall accommodation.
It was silly to feel the constraint of rock when that was actually all he'd known in his life, and when so many folk lived long, healthy lives quite contentedly in the inner passages of the bigger Holds and Halls, but he did like to be able to look out whenever he chose. He also felt closer to his mother in rooms they had occupied together in one of the happiest spells of his boyhood.
Being journeyman in a busy Hold was a considerable change from that earlier time, and yet Robinton was not the sort of personality who could abide idleness. If he wasn't instructing, taking his Drum Tower watches – Hayon, the oldest of Hayara's brood, was technically in charge of that part of the Hold's routine duties -or taking a few days to travel to the corners of the Hold to tutor small holder groups, he busied himself mending instruments, repairing music sheets and copying those which Evarel's pain-racked hands had been unable to keep in good shape.
When the cold weather deepened, Lady Hayara arrived with the Hold's healer, Master Yorag, bringing the basin of warm wax to ease the frozen joints of the old harper's hands and his knees. She helped rub in the herbal oils which increased daytime mobility.
'I do wish you'd reconsider the Neratian offer,' she would invariably say when she entered. 'It is freezing here, and the cold is simply not good for your joints.'
I'll be fine, Lady Hayara, I'll be fine,' old Evarel insisted, adding most mornings, 'now that Robinton's here to assist.'
Then he began to add, 'And he's halved my work and taken over all the difficult tasks.'
By Turn's End, when a chest congestion kept him in bed for six days running, and Robinton was beside himself to keep the water bottles warm enough to give him some comfort, Evarel succumbed to the inevitable and said that perhaps he ought to spend the rest of the winter where it was a trifle warmer.
Lady Hayara ordered up the travel wagon and had Robinton send drum messages to holds on the southern route to have team changes and fresh drivers ready so that Evarel would make the journey in the most comfort she could secure for him. Maizella and Hayon were sent along as his escort.
As Robinton carried the gaunt old MasterHarper down to the conveyance, he wondered why Benden hadn't requested a dragon and rider. He had seen dragons in the sky, but none had touched down at Benden Hold as they used to do, and none had been invited for any of the dinners which Lady Hayara loved to give with the least excuse. Robinton had been too busy to visit F'lon on his own, to discover the Weyr's viewpoint on the coldness between Hold and Weyr. Then he answered his own question, as he realized that the cold of between would have been the worst possible course for the sick man, not to mention the difficulty involved in hoisting him to the dragon's back without additional pain.
The travel wagon's narrow body was well sprung and well padded and would pass on most of the normal trails. Such vehicles had become quite popular during the long Interval. And most holders kept good teams ready in the beasthold or in a nearby paddock for travellers' needs. This wagon was also comfortably sized: 'Lady Hayara wide, which means the two of us will fit,' Maizella said with a touch of malice, although Robinton had noticed that she was now on better terms with her father's second spouse than Raid was.
Robinton watched with a lump in his throat as the old man left. Lady Hayara was openly weeping.
'He's taught all my children, you see,' she admitted as Robinton gave her a steadying hand up the steps to the Hold. 'And I really don't think he should come back – even in the warmer weather.'
And so it was that Evarel did not return to Benden Hold.
Robinton slid into the vacancy and started quietly training three of the brighter Hold children to be his assistants. One lad was harper material, if he was not much mistaken. Robinton had a sixth sense for that: he likened it to the green dragon's ability to perceive rider potential in youngsters. He did wish that somehow or other he could find a girl as talented. His mother would so enjoy having another voice to train as she had Halanna and Maizella.
A Turn and a half later, S'loner's Chendith flew Jora's Nemorth and a clutch resulted. Not a large one, but six bronzes, three browns, five blues and six greens. F'lon would still come to visit Robinton whenever he chose, seemingly oblivious to the bad feeling between S'loner and Maidin
F'lon had been quite caustic about the long wait for Nemorth to come into season. He blamed it on Jora's own immaturity and fearfulness.
'This business of Jora being afraid of heights is inhibiting her queen, of all stupidities!' F'lon paced up and down Robinton's apartment, waving his arms about in frustration. 'I personally know that Nemorth was glowing as bright as a gold nugget when Jora takes it in her head to be violently nauseated and faint. Naturally that put the poor queen off, making her nearly frantic with worry over her rider.' F'lon kicked at a chair in his way, venting his disgust with the Weyrwoman. 'Frankly, I'll be surprised if we ever get Nemorth in the air to mate.'
When the mating flight did occur, Robinton tactfully did not ask for any details the next time F'lon appeared at Benden Hold. F'lon made only one reference to the event.
'S'loner had no great joy in the day. We all hope Chendith had more.' He spoke in such a neutral tone that Robinton couldn't tell if F'lon had got over his disappointment; but the bronze rider had an infinite capacity to ignore what he wished.
F'lon was shortly able to report that Nemorth was showing unmistakable signs that she was in egg. He even appeared happy to be able to make such an announcement.
'All in all, considering the way Jora carries on, I'm just as glad that I don't have to put up with her nonsense and carryings-on.
S'loner's welcome to them.' He grinned maliciously.
In his capacity as Hold harper, Robinton was invited to the Hatching and the Impression. And impressive that was for the sensitive harper. He had never seen such joy, or felt so touched by another's elation. Each new bonding added to the impact, and he found himself wishing desperately that somehow he could have been both harper and rider. He was in tears, and unashamed, by the end of the Hatching. Even F'lon, collecting him from the spectators' seats above the Hatching Ground, was blurry-eyed with unshed tears.
'Gets to you, doesn't it?' the bronze rider murmured, wiping his eyes.
'I didn't realize it was like ...' And Robinton spread his hand helplessly over the hot sands – which made him speed up his pace lest he scorch the soles of his feet even through good harper boot leather. 'The most incredible moment in a man's life ... isn't it?'
'Indeed.' F'lon glanced fondly over his shoulder at Simanith, who was leaving the Hatching Ground by the upper exit. Most of the dragons were already on their way to their own weyrs, and Robinton was awed by the sight of their deft insertion in the dark hole at the top of the immense cavern. He was amazed how gracefully imminent collisions were avoided as the flying dragons filed out.
F'lon draped a careless arm across Robinton's shoulders. 'Now is the good time. In the euphoria of an Impression, all old insults and agitations are put aside. Even Raid came today.'
'Wasn't he supposed to?' Robinton asked, hoping that tonight he might at last get some answers to explain the estrangement between Raid and F'lon. They had once been very good friends. Robinton hadn't noticed at first that the two were never in the same room together. But F'lon could be caustic, and Raid had his own foibles.
'Maidir and Hayara have talked of nothing else since the drum message came about the clutch.'
'And Maizella and that fish-faced spouse of hers.' F'lon grimaced. 'She's pretty enough to have done better than that.'
'Cording's got a large and prosperous hold on the Eastern Sea.
He gives her sea jewels and goes goggle-eyed when she sings to him,' Robinton remarked, keeping his tone non-judgmental. He liked Maizella much better now than he ever had as a child. He also rather liked Cording, who was solicitous of his love's parents and the brood of younger children, and courteous to his Lord Holder, but he did have a distinct resemblance to a fish: with that shock of sun-bleached hair, flat face, and rather blunted features.
