they came to an understanding – largely encouraged by the sweetener which Robinton would offer the animal when he had reached the saddle unscathed. But reining him in was another story: the trip went faster than perhaps the healer could have wished, and Robinton was almost faint with relief when he saw the children playing on the front court of Ruatha Hold.
The journey was seven days of hard travel. If Robinton regretted the absence of dragon wings, he knew more now about this area than he previously had – information that might prove valuable.
The way into Ruatha Hold was appallingly open. He would have to incite Lord Kale to post guards, raise beacons and alert the outlying cots and holds, in case Fax had his eye on this prosperous Hold.
'Surely there must have been some good reason behind the captain's attack on F'lon,' Lord Kale remarked to Robinton as he offered hospitality to the MasterHarper.
He was a tall, slender man with dark hair and grey eyes, but his manner was gentle and it was obvious from the affection in which his stewards held him that he was a good Holder, considerate of his people and painstaking in his dealings with them. That made for contented holders, but it was a frail weapon against a man of Fax's proven character. Robinton was more fearful than ever.
'If you'd been there, Lord Holder,' said Macester, the leader of the escort, with an earnest scowl of anxiety, 'you'd've known it was no accident, and we're lucky the MasterHarper wasn't killed too. Giffien was out to do as much damage as he could. And then try to snake his way out of banishment.'
'Heat of the moment.' Kale smiled patronizingly.
Just then a small girl, her wide grey eyes immediately establishing her as Kale's daughter, toddled up to him, holding her arms out.
'Ah, Lessa, not now, pet.' But he picked her up and carried her to the door, where her attendant arrived to take her away.
She kicked and screamed, straining backwards so that Robinton saw the thin face and the immense eyes, framed by a tangle of dark curly hair.
'Spirited at just four Turns,' said Kale with an indulgent smile.
'Lord Kale, as MasterHarper of Pern I implore you to follow the examples of the other Lord Holders in the west, to train men to defend this Hold. To set up a border guard with beacons to alert--'
Kale held up his hand, smiling in condescension. 'My people are very busy with ordinary tasks, Master Robinton. It is spring, you know, and we've herds to manage and young animals to train to saddle.'
'Did it never occur to you that your fine runner-beasts would be invaluable to Fax when he needs to cover the plains to Telgar?' Robinton said insistently.
'Oh, come now, Master Robinton, he buys our runner-beasts, and that's good for Ruatha,' Kale replied with a laugh. 'More klah? Surely you have time to stay the night. Ruatha Hold would be honoured.'
Suddenly Robinton wanted to put distance between himself and this trusting fool. He got purposefully to his feet, about to refuse, when he saw the weary look on Macester's face and the man's obvious inclination to spend a night in the comfortable surroundings of one of the major Holds.
'And we are extremely grateful for the courtesy,' he said as graciously as he could.
The door to Kale's private office was still open after his daughter's entrance and the sounds of a struggle, man against a furious animal, could be heard.
'He's at it again,' Macester said under his breath as both he and Robinton moved to the door. Kale, curious, followed them out to the broad outer court where Big Black was attempting to take chunks out of the Ruathan who had hold of his reins. Robinton noted wryly that none of the escort had taken charge of the beast.
'That's a splendid animal,' Kale said, pausing on the top step to take in the scene. 'Circle him, Jez,' he called to the handler. 'One of Tarathel's mountain breeds, isn't he?'
'Yes,' Robinton agreed, dispassionately watching the beast's antics. He felt for a sweetener lump in his pocket and, finding one, stepped forward, speaking in soothing tones and reaching for the reins as a very wary Jez circled.
'Easy now, there's a fine lad.' His voice got through to Big Black and the animal extended his nose towards the MasterHarper, seeking the treat he expected.
'Quite a handful,' Kale remarked.
'Until you're in the saddle,' Robinton said, rather pleased he could say that honestly in front of a noted rider like Lord Kale.
Kale chuckled. 'Now, Macester, if you'll have your men lead your mounts up to the beasthold' – he pointed up the lane to the left – 'we'll see to your comfort.'
'And if your healer would check Master Robinton's arm,' Macester said, ignoring Robinton's protest, 'I would be easier.'
'Your arm?' Kale was all concern. 'Surely it was only a glancing blow ...'
'Which required seven stitches,' Macester said in a growl.
So Kale hurried the Harper back into the Hold and shouted for the healer.
'I had so hoped to hear some new music this evening ...' the Lord Holder began wistfully.
'Oh, you will, you will,' said Robinton, dismissing his injury.
'You've Struan here--' He grinned at the prospect of seeing his old dorm-mate, now a very competent journeyman. 'And I understand Lady Adessa plays harp as well as any harper.'
'But your wound ...'
'Didn't touch my throat, Lord Kale.' And mentally Robinton reviewed the sort of songs that might alter Kale's indolence. He could but try. In ordinary times – and these were definitely not -Kale would be the ideal Lord Holder, tolerant, easy-going and affable, immersed in his Hold's business and sure of its continuing prosperity.
After Robinton's wound was tended to, he climbed to the Drum Tower, greeted the young holder on duty there, and asked for and received permission to signal the Harper Hall of his imminent return.
The child, Lessa, appeared briefly at the beginning of the evening's entertainment, but fell asleep in her father's lap: Robinton was amused, since he'd been singing a rousing song which had occasioned much stamping of heavy boots and rhythmic clapping. One of the nearby holders who had been invited to the evening meal was clever with spoons and joined the other players.
Ruatha's main Hall, with its excellent acoustics, was marvellous to play in, though Robinton rather thought the wall-hangings helped. He sat opposite the largest one, a stunning spectacle of dragonriders hovering above what was obviously Ruatha Hold, though the design of the faqade had been improved since the tapestry was hung. There were queens too, their riders carrying long wands from which flame spewed, matching the ones used by the crews on the ground. He could even make out the Fort Hold device on the ground crews' shoulders, so detailed was the scene.
Lady Adessa had certainly taken Hold here. He recalled the Hall from a previous visit with Lord Ashmichel, and at that time the chamber had been dark and dingy. What was the old saying about new spouses and brooms?
Robinton found a little tune dancing in his head, in competition with the one his fingers were playing. His left arm was not bothered by his playing; he had briefly worried that the muscles or the tendons might have been damaged by Giffien's knife.
The next morning, after a good sleep in a wide and comfortable bed, Robinton felt well rested for the remainder of his journey. He only wished,inton was amused, since he'd been singing a rousing song which had occasioned much stamping of heavy boots and rhythmic clapping. One of the nearby holders who had been invited to the evening meal was clever with spoons and joined the other players.
Ruatha's main Hall, with its excellent acoustics, was marvellous to play in, though Robinton rather thought the wall-hangings helped. He sat opposite the largest one, a stunning spectacle of dragonriders hovering above what was obviously Ruatha Hold, though the design of the faqade had been improved since the tapestry was hung. There were queens too, their riders carrying long wands from which flame spewed, matching the ones used by the crews on the ground. He could even make out the Fort Hold device on the ground crews' shoulders, so detailed was the scene.
Lady Adessa had certainly taken Hold here. He recalled the Hall from a previous visit with Lord Ashmichel, and at that time the chamber had been dark and dingy. What was the old saying about new spouses and brooms?
Robinton found a little tune dancing in his head, in competition with the one his fingers were playing. His left arm was not bothered by his playing; he had briefly worried that the muscles or the tendons might have been damaged by Giffien's knife.
