They had indeed hoped to arrive before dark, so that they could have a quick assessment of the problem. Now the issue would have to be met immediately.
'A wall has two sides,' Robinton remarked and grinned.
'Good evening to you,' Groghe said, raising his voice.
The driver had stopped at the pile of stones and, shielding his eyes from the glare of a sun close to setting, peered at the two riders. The holder whirled, raising a sturdy staff, and his sons -they resembled him too much to be anything but – assumed defensive stances.
'Groghe of Fort Hold and Journeyman Harper Robinton,' Rob called out, raising his hand high.
The two older men exchanged glances. 'You've been complaining again to Lord Groghe, Sucho?' the forester shouted, grinning maliciously. 'Welcome, holder and harper. You must spend the night with me and mine.' He gestured to his two sons.
'We'll be grateful for shelter, I assure you,' Robinton said at his most gracious, close enough to the wall now to halt his runner and swing down from the saddle. He was taller than any of them, and he would use that to his advantage.
Groghe dismounted as well, and stood firmly at Robinton's side.
'My father, Lord Grogellan, wants this settled and has sent me and Journeyman Robinton to be sure that this time the matter is finished!'
That was all that was needed to send both men into loud and conflicting claims: Tortole insisted that the wall had fallen on Sucho's side, so it was up to him to repair it; Sucho claimed that if Tortole hadn't been so clumsy in felling the line of trees so that they damaged the wall, there wouldn't have been a problem.
Robinton then noticed that the remains of the uprooted trees on Tortole's side were well covered in moss, suggesting that the stumps had been there for many turns. That the storm had done more damage to the forestation – knocking down a swath that continued on up and down the hillside – than to the meadows of the herder was clear, but why two isolated families would not combine to replace the dividing wall was not.
'Enough!' Groghe shouted.
'Quite enough,' Robinton said into the sudden stillness. 'A wall has two sides, my friends.'
The response was blank looks. The younger men muttered together.
'Of course a wall has two sides,' Sucho said, scowling.
'Your side and his side,' Robinton said patiently. 'You build your side and he will build his side.'
Sucho and Totrole goggled at him. Groghe turned a chuckle into a cough.
'The wall was not one stone thick, was it?' Robinton went on, looking sternly over the group. He could see that the wall had been wide and high enough to keep the herd-beasts from easily jumping over to reach the lush grass where the swath had been cleared.
Sucho shook his head. 'That wall's been there since my hold was built.'
'Since my hold was built, you mean,' Tortole said.
'Then it's small wonder that it has fallen. The mortar would have deteriorated over the turns,' Robinton said. 'But that does not keep it from having two sides. You' – he pointed over the fallen wall at Tortole – 'will build your side, smack up against Sucho's.' He turned to the herder. 'And you will be sure to build your side smack up against Tortole's. You alternate putting in the mortar, to be sure that both sides are bound together.'
'And we will see you started in the morning,' Groghe said.
'But we've other work to do!' Tortole shouted, outraged.
'I've herds to tend,' Sucho bellowed simultaneously.
'I notice that you each have two sons,' Robinton put in. 'Strong fellows, and you have the stones to hand. I wonder which of you, working three to a side, can finish your side first.'
'Why, my sons and I ...'
'My sons and I ...'
Tortole and Sucho glared at each other.
'Then we will see just who does win tomorrow, won't we?' Robinton said as pleasantly as possible, smiling amiably.
'You'll stay with us,' Sucho said, jerking a thumb at his chest.
'No, they'll stay with us in a decent cot--' Tortole replied.
'No!' Robinton's well-trained bellow silenced them both. 'Since Groghe is Fort, he will stay with his holder. And I, not being beholden to either Fort or Tillek, will stay with Tortole. However, if this evening anyone will care for a song or two, I will sit on that post -' he pointed to the one still standing, where a gate of sorts must once have been, allowing access from one holding to the other '– and sing for both families. Since a harper is obliged to be impartial.'
Then, before the astonished men could argue further, he swung up on the Ruathan runner and urged it forward, finding a narrow place where the animal could hop easily over the scattered stones.
'Will it be possible to have a wash before dinner?' he asked his appointed host as he paused by him.
Groghe was drawing Sucho with him towards the cot, where several more figures had appeared in the doorway. Groghe was initiating pleasantries, and Robinton heard the grumbles of answers.
'I do hope that we will not put you out for our dinner. We have our own provisions,' Robinton said. 'A nice plump wherry that I took off its branch this morning.' He patted the carcass, which he had fastened to the back of his saddle.
'How'd you get it?' one of the sons asked, peering at the beheaded avian.
'Knife throw,' Robinton said indifferently. It wouldn't hurt to suggest that he was proficient with a blade. He was, but it bore repeating with these rough-living folk. Tortole was taller than he, and massive. His sons, while younger, were no less substantial. It amused him that the herders looked equally able to take care of themselves, which probably contributed to the stand-off.
'And you a harper?' The son sounded surprised.
'Oh, I have to travel long distances on my own,' Robinton said as they reached the forester's cot. He nodded pleasantly to the three women who came out, their curiosity getting the better of their shyness. 'Hunting's necessary from time to time.' He gave a courteous bow to the oldest of the women, dressed in rough skin pants and clearly embarrassed to have a visitor. 'I have begged shelter from your spouse. And bring this to add to the supper pot.' He bowed again as he handed over the wherry.
She opened and closed her mouth several times without getting a sound out.
One of the others took it from her, examining it with a knowledgeable eye, and managed a grin. 'Young and fresh. Thanks, Harper.' She nudged the other, who was too surprised to respond to his smiles in any way. 'It'll do just fine. If these louts would do more hunting instead of herding, we'd not take yours from you.' She gave the men a withering smile and then, grabbing the old woman by the arm and prodding the other with the wherry carcass in her hand, she propelled them all into the cot.
'I'll get the loft ready for you, Harper,' one of the lads said, remembering the duties of hosting.
'I'll do your mount. Ruathan, isn't it?' the other said, taking the reins from Robinton's hand and casting an approving eye over the runner.
'I'll just ... take my things,' Robinton said, slipping open the knot which tied the saddlebags and grabbing them and his gitar.
'You'll play for us this evening?' the first lad asked, eyes glinting with hope.
'I said I will. And I will. On the post so both -' and he paused for emphasis – 'can enjoy.'
The cot, while somewhat primitive, was larger inside than it looked from outside. The main room was obviously where most interior work was done, but it was separated into sections: one for the women's tasks, another for the men's, with an eating area and well-made chairs set near the good-sized fireplace. There were rooms off each end, and off the long wall that the hearth dominated; ladders led to lofts on both sides. If he were to be accommodated above, Robinton decided, he'd best remember to keep his head down.
But he was escorted to one of the side rooms, which contained one large bed. The son cleared clothing from the two stools and one chest, where he gestured for Robinton to place his bags.
'Who am I displacing?' the journeyman asked.
'My father and mother.' The son gave a chuckle. 'The honour is theirs, and ours, to have a harper as guest. I'm Valrol. My brother is Torlin. My mother's name is Saday; the girl who took the wherry is my spouse, Pessia, from Tillek FishCraftHall. My sister is Klada. She would like to spouse Sucho's son, but my parents won't let her because
