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she should come directly to him rather than approach his cranky master.
Domick got her away from the old archivist after the barest of courtesies. As
they walked back to the Hall entrance, he again directed her not to be all
morning at the copying or he'd never get the new quartet sufficiently
rehearsed before the Festival. As he opened the door to
the Main Hall, she heard the Masterharpers voice and sped up the stairs.
As she worked in her room, her concentration was pene-
' trated now and then by voices raised in discussion in the
Hall below. Absently she identified the various masters:
Domick, Morshal, Jerint, the Masterharper and, to her surprise, Silvina, and
others whose voices she couldn't recognize as readily. As the conversations
apparently had to do with posting journeymen to various positions about the
country, she paid scant heed.
She was, in fact, just finishing the third and looser interpretation of the
song when a brisk tapping at the door startled her so much she almost smeared
the sheet. At her answer, Domick strode in.
"Haven't you finished yet?"
She nodded to the sheets, spread out to dry. Scowling with exasperation, he
strode across the room and picked up the nearest sheet. Before she could warn
him about damp ink, she noticed that he took the sheet carefully by the edges.
"Hmmm. Yes. You copy neatly enough to please even old Amor. Yes, now . . ." he
was scanning the other sheets. "Traditional forms all duly observed. . . . Not
a bad tune, at all." He gave her an approving nod. "Bit bare of chord, but the
subject doesn't need musical em-
bellishment. Come, come, finish that sheet, too." He
216
pointed to the one before her. "Oh, you have! Fair enough." He blew gently
across the sheet to dry the last
line of still glistening ink. "Yes, that'll do. I'll just be off with these.
Take your gitar across to my quarters, Me-
nolly, and study the music on the rack. You're to play second gitar. Pay
special attention to the dynamic quali-
ties of the second variation."
With that he left her. Her right hand ached from the cramped position of
copying, and she massaged it, then shook her fingers vigorously from the wrist
to relieve the strain.
"Now," she heard the Masterharper's voice from the room below, "the point is
that all but one of the formali-
ties has been observed. Admittedly, there's not been much time spent in the
Hall, but an apprenticeship served else-
where under a competent journeyman has always been admissible. Does anyone
wish to register any reservations about the competence of that journeyman?"
There was a short pause. "So that's settled. Ah, yes, thank you, Domick. Now,
Master Arnor . . ." and Menolly lost the sound of his voice as he evidently
moved away from the window.
She was uncomfortably aware that she was not only an inadvertent eavesdropper
on Craft matters not her business, but disobedient to Master Domick's orders.
Not that she didn't wish to follow them. She picked up her gitar. Playing with
Talmor, Sebell and Domick was a pure delight. Had Master Domick meant to
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intimate that she'd be part of that quartet in a performance? Well, it
yesterday was any sample of being a harper, yes, she prob-
ably would be performing in that quartet, new as she was to the Harper Hall.
That was part of being a harper, after all.
When Menolly entered Domick's quarters, Talmor and
Sebell, Kimi disposed on his shoulder and not looking
too pleased to be shifted from the crook of his arm, were already discussing
the music. They greeted her cheerfully and asked if she'd enjoyed her first go
in a gather at Fort
Hold. They both laughed at her enthusiastic replies.
"Everyone's the better for a good gather," said Talmor.
217
"Except Morshal," said Sebell, and, glancing sideways at Talmor as if they
shared some secret, rubbed the side of his nose.
"Let us play, Journeyman Sebell," Menolly thought that Talmor sounded
reproving.
"By all means, Journeyman Talmor," said Sebell, not the least bit perturbed.
"If you will join us. Apprentice
Menolly." The brown man gestured elaborately for Me-
nolly to take the stool beside him.
As Menolly checked the tuning of her gitar, Talmor turned the sheets of music
on the rack. "Where does he want us to start?"
"Master Domick told we to study the dynamics of the second variation," said
Menolly with helpful deference.
"That's right, that's where," said Talmor, snapping his fingers before he
flipped the correct sheets to the front.
"At the beat then . .. sweet shells, he's changing the time in every third
measure . . . what does he expect of us?"
"Are the dynamics difficult?" asked Menolly, feeling
apprehensive.
"Not difficult, just Domick all over," said Talmor with the sigh of the
long-suffering. But he tapped the appro-
priate beat on the wood of his gitar and gave a more em-
phatic fifth beat for them to start.
They'd had a chance to go through the second varia-
tion once before Domick entered the room. Nodding courteously to them, he took
his place.
"Let's start at the beginning of the second variation, now that you've had a
chance to play through it."
They worked steadily, going straight through the music once. The second time
they paused frequently to perfect the more difficult passages and balance the
parts. The dinner bell punctuated the brisk notes of the finale. Tal-
mor and Sebell put down their instruments with small sighs of relief, but
Menolly refingered the final three chords softly before she laid her
instrument down.
"Does your hand hurt?" asked Domick with unex-
pected solicitude.
"No, I was just wondering if the string was true."
"If you heard a sour sound, it was my stomach," said
Talmor.
"Too much gathering?" asked Sebell -with little sym-
pathy.
"No, not enough breakfast, thank you!" replied Talmor with the brusqueness of
someone being teased. He rose and left the room, followed closely by the
silently laugh-
ing Sebell.
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"Master Shonagar has you this afternoon, Menolly?"
asked Domick, motioning for Menolly to come with him.
"Yes, sir."
"Well, then you'd have to continue that voice instruc-
tion anyway," he said in a cryptic fashion. Menolly de-
cided he must be wishing to have her practice with him more steadily, but
Master Robinton had been specific:
her mornings were scheduled to Master Domick; after-
noons she was to go to Master Shonagar.
When they entered the dining hall, the room was already well filled. Domick
turned to the right toward the masters' table. Menolly caught one glimpse of
Master
Morshal, already seated, his face set in the sourest lines she had yet seen on
the bad-tempered old man, so she looked quickly away.
"Pona's gone!" Piemur pounced on her from the left, his face wreathed with
smug satisfaction. "So I can sit with you, near the girls, now. Audiva said I
could 'cause it was Pona who got snotty. Audiva says will you please sit with
her."
"Pona's gone?" Menolly, both surprised and nervous, permitted Piemur to pull
her toward the hearthside table.
There were two empty places, one on either side of
Audiva, who smiled hesitantly as she saw Menolly ap-
proaching. She beckoned to the seat on her right, away from the other girls.
"See, Pona is gone! She got taken away a-dragonback,"
Piemur added, his pleasure in her departure somewhat allayed by the
prestigious manner of her going.
"Because of yesterday?" The thin knot of worry in her middle grew larger and
colder. Pona in the cot, con-
tained by the discipline of the Harper Hall, was bad enough; but, in her
grandfather's Hold, pouring out acid vengeance, she was much more dangerous
for Harper apprentice, Menolly.
"Naw, not just yesterday," Piemur said firmly. "So don't you go feeling guilty
about it. But yesterday was the final crack, the way I heard it, bearing false
witness against you. And Dunca's been raked over by Silvina!
That pleased her no end; she's just been itching to take
Dunca down."
Timiny was straddling three seats across from Audiva, and gesturing urgently [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
