spring yellow, with stiff silver thread embroidering neck, hem and cuffs. Various sea captains had obliged by passing it on around the continent on the Great Western Stream from Mardela Hold in Nerat until it arrived at Tillek, three days before her party. Juvana had kept it hidden in her closet.
'You must wear it tonight,' Juvana said.
'Not tonight,' Kasia protested, her fingers running along the stylized embroidery. I'll save it for the Gather.'
'Well, just try it on and let's see you in it,' Juvana insisted.
'Later, not now,' Kasia said firmly and arranged her presents in a pile before sitting down to the midday meal. As was customary, all the food offerings were known favourites of hers.
'Everyone's making such a fuss over just a birthing day,' she said, colouring with embarrassment.
'But it's your birthday,' her oldest niece protested.
Robinton could hardly eat. But eventually the meal was over and he made a leisurely descent to the workshop. And then paced and paced, waiting for Kasia to arrive.
When she did, she was flustered.
'I couldn't get away!' she said. 'Now what ... oh!'
He hadn't been able to think of anything appropriate to say to introduce the gift so he had been standing in front of it. Now he moved aside and, with his best and most elaborate gesture, indicated it was hers.
'Oh, Robie ...'
His name, said in just that voice and tone, was more than compensation for all his hard work. On seeing it, her eyes had widened and then filled with tears as she stepped forward. Almost hesitantly, she reached out to touch it, a fingertip following the line of the neck progressing around the ornamentation down the forepillar before she let her fingers run up the strings.
'Oh!' she gasped again at the delicate sound it gave.
Impatient for her to use it, to hold it on her lap and give it voice, he pulled a chair over to her and practically sat her down, lifting the harp to her knee.
'Oh, Robie, this is the most beautiful thing. I've never had such a magnificent gift. Even--' And she stopped short. He suspected she might have been about to cite something Merdine had given her. She gave him a quick glance and he smiled encouragingly back, though his mouth had gone very dry and he had a sick feeling in his stomach. Then she lifted her hands, as he had seen her do in his mind during the long hours of woodworking, and struck a chord. He had tuned the harp very carefully so that the chord sang tremulously on the still air of the empty workshop. 'This is not just a birthing gift, is it, Rob?' she asked, turning to him, her wide eyes soft.
No shadows. When he didn't – couldn't – answer, she said in the tenderest possible tone, 'Is my eloquent harper wordless for once?'
He swallowed and managed a sharp nod. 'Absolutely,' he said, opening his arms in his helplessness, knowing that his smile must appear inane.
Her lips curved in one of her gentle and delicious smiles. 'Oh, Robie,' she said, turning her head from side to side, a look of wonder and joy on her face. 'Haven't I done my best to show you how I care? Even braving the sea to fish so we'd be together?'
His paralysis ended at her gentle reprimand and he pulled her into his arms. Her arms went about his neck, her hands catching in his thick hair as she pulled his head down. 'I want a proper kiss from you now, Harper Robinton! Not a polite birthday peck.'
He was as properly improper as he dared. Only she dared more and, before he could fret about any inadequacies as a lover, she was responding in such a way that it fuelled his ardour out of bounds.
Always, afterwards, he remembered that moment any time he smelled the pungency of varnish or well- seasoned wood.
In the loving aftermath, Kasia told him that Juvana approved and would support her choice with their parents.
'How does she know?' Robinton demanded, startled to think that Lady Juvana had been discussing him with Kasia. And possibly with Lord Melongel.
'Because I've been filling her ears with Rob this and Rob that,' Kasia said, grinning at his reaction.
Kasia was more than old enough to choose for herself, and her parents had sent her to Tillek Hold so that she would have more choice – and fewer memories of the man she had lost.
'Am I at all like him?' Robinton asked, a question which had run circles in his head for a long time.
She regarded him with a little smile on her lips, tracing the line of his mouth with her finger. 'Yes, and no. Not in looks. Merdine hadn't your inches: as well for a seaman who'd be clouting his head all the time on beams. He was good-looking, but your face has far more character. You'll grow handsomer as you age ... and I'll be there to keep the roving women away.' She drew his head down to kiss him. 'You've lovely bones!'
'Bones, the girl says.' Robinton burst out laughing in surprise.
'Lots of long bones,' she repeated with a newly established proprietary delight. 'Merdine was much more assertive. Well, he'd have to be as a sea captain, whereas a harper has to be more tactful and persuasive.'
'He does?' Robinton mocked her.
'Well, you are both. I've heard you, Journeyman--'
He interrupted her. 'Your parents will not object to you espousing a harper? I intend to get my Mastery, but it does mean we'll do a lot of travelling. Will they mind?'
'And a sea captain doesn't travel? A harper doesn't encounter the same sort of hazards--' She stopped there, her eyes darkening with the sorrow Robinton had hoped he had lifted for ever.
'I don't know about that,' he said into the pause, speaking lightly and trying to restore the happy mood they had been enjoying.
'Sorry, Rob.'
'No need to be ... love,' he said, experimenting with using the word in her presence.
'That's what I especially love about you, Rob. Your perceptions and understanding. Merdine ... was not an understanding man.
Not the way you are. And I think – on balance – that's very important in creating a good harmony for a long life together.'
They would have explored that topic much further except that they both heard voices along the hallway outside the workshop.
They had straightened themselves and their clothing, and Robinton pretended to tighten a string on the harp. The voices talked on, their
owners continued past the workshop. But that interlude was over.
'I'll carry it for you,' Robinton said.
'Then we will both explain its significance to my sister,' she said firmly. 'Not that she'll need much explanation when we walk in with this beautiful instrument.'
Nor did they. Juvana was delighted, saying this was the best birthing day gift her little sister could possibly have. There wasn't another harper in the family, so it was about time there was one.
'Melongel's been wondering when you would declare yourself, Robinton,' she added, giving him a sly sideways glance.
'And what gave him the need to wonder?' Robinton asked. He had prided himself on keeping his feelings under control.
'Oh, I thought he should consider the matter,' Juvana said airily,
'especially since my baby sister has been sighing over you for some time. He won't object.'
Melongel didn't. He already knew of the Telgar Blood connection of Petiron, and the fact that Merelan was a MasterSinger of Pern-wide prestige made no bar to an espousal.
'But the summer's ahead of us, the busiest season for journeymen harpers,' he said more severely, since he did not permit pleasure to interfere with duty. 'Autumn Equinox would be a better time for espousal than Summer Solstice. We will, however, announce the pact tonight and spare Robinton competition for dances.'
Melongel could not spare Robinton either the teasing or the envy of those who had also hoped to espouse Kasia. But the public announcement of their intention made their lives far more comfortable.
Rob had sent a formal announcement to his parents – at Juvana's suggestion.
'Mothers need to know such things, Robinton,' she said, smiling with just a touch of maternal condescension. 'You're old enough to choose your own partner, but even if your relations with your father are poor, you should
