The Master Harper of Pern

by Anne McCaffrey

  As he fumbled with the sling around his arm, Nip took over and, with unusually gentle fingers, daubed the sewn wound with the salve. The relief was intense.

  "Didn't realize Gifflen got you."

  "Giflen?

  "That was the man's name. I'd marked him as a troublemaker. He's been thrown out of several holds and his apprentice hall for provoking fights and bullying. He's killed often. I preferred that he didn't walk away from this one."

  Robinton nodded in agreement. "More would thank you if they knew. I thank you."

  "Clever of you to shout like that. Stirred them all to their senses."

  Robinton exhaled, remembering. "We've all become soft, you know. Letting someone else take the blame or do the disagreeable."

  "That's why Fax controls as many holds as he does." Nip's tone was harsh. "Rob, you've got to shake the Lord holders awake before he takes another one."

  "I've done what I can. Groghe's training men, so is Oterel and, after this, Tarathel will be wary."

  "What about Kale at Ruatha?"

  "I plan to see him on my way back."

  "How soon before you could travel a-dragonback?"

  "I think I've lost that privilege."

  "No." Nip shook his head. "Drum C'gan. He'll come any time. Too bad F'lon's sons aren't a little older."

  Robinton frowned. "I haven't had a chance to get to know them, not as I did their father. R'gul keeps the Weyr so much to itself. I should go..."

  "You should not. You should get to Ruatha Hold as fast as you can." Then Nip was on his feet and at the door. "See you. I'll be in touch."

  "Nip, where ..." But the door was already closing silently behind the man.

  Despite the fellis and the numbweed, it took Robinton a long while to sleep again.

  Tarathel reluctantly let him start the journey back to the Harper Hall two days later when an equally reluctant Hold Healer permitted it. The Lord Holder sent six men as escort.

  "Don't be a fool, Master Robinton," Tarathel said, scowling.

  "The Hall may have played down the attacks made on harpers over the last few Turns, but that doesn't mean they aren't known. And Gifflen's attack on you was inexcusable. I've even heard that Evenek was lured to Crom at Fax's instigation, so he could make him an example." He paused, his voice becoming more gentle. "Did Evenek ever play again?"

  "He can play. He'll never sing again."

  "Well, then," Tarathel said, stern again, "you'll travel back from here without incident and as I deem you should go – with an escort."

  So Robinton accepted, though he would rather have travelled on his own, because he was certain that the men would have orders to keep to a reasonable pace in deference to his injury.

  There was nothing reasonable about his urgent need to talk sense into Kale. He wished that the Ruathan Holder had been at the Gather, but his spouse had recently given birth to a son, so he had remained at his Hold. The other Lord Holders who had been present had received salutary shocks: the murder of a dragonrider, an attack on a MasterHarper, and then Fax's rejection of Tarathel's valid judgment on the assassin. Robinton was sure he wasn't the only one who had trouble remembering that such a word – assassin – existed in the vocabulary.

  "An escort is necessary, MasterHarper Robinton," Tarathel said, scowling. "It is bad enough that you were attacked at all. I fear a man so lost to honour as Fax has proved himself would not hesitate to make an attempt on your life again if you were not close-guarded."

  "He has scarcely had time to return to--' Robinton paused.

  "I will believe anything of that man now," said Tarathel. "You'd do well to limit your wanderings, MasterHarper, or ride with an escort."

  "Limit my wanderings? That I cannot in conscience do – not now."

  "Be careful then, Robinton." Tarathel pressed his hand warningly against Robinton's uninjured shoulder. "I've put one of my best runner-beasts at your disposal."

  Robinton thanked the Lord Holder ... though he wasn't so sure how thankful he should be when he tried to mount it. Three men had to hold the black's head. Once he was in the saddle, the animal became obedient ... at least to Robinton. No one on foot could get near enough to hand the harper his saddlebags. After that, his gear was attached to the saddle when the runner was tacked – and even that took several men.

  The runner-beast was, however, a very smooth-gaited, powerful creature with a habit of charging on ahead, so that Robinton's escort were hard put to keep up with him. Gradually, he got the trick of dealing with Big Black and 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 wa
s 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.

  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, as Jez gave him an experienced leg up to Big Black's back, that he had been able to get more cooperation from Lord Kale. At least the Holder had agreed to setting up border patrols along the Nabolese border and erecting fire beacons on the heights.

  "I doubt they will ever be used," Kale had said in parting, leaving Robinton sighing as he turned the black's head south and east to the main ford of the Red River.

  On the way back, spouses and brooms did a stately dance in the MasterHarper's mind as he took the instance and tried to make it musical. Melodies seemed to plague him at the most inauspicious moments, but he was grateful for the return of such spontaneity. He used it as a gauge to check his grasp on the essence of his responsibilities.

  Nip returned to the Hall several weeks later, looking gaunt and weary.

  "You're staying until Master Oldive says you're fit for it," Robinton said, escorting Nip to the healer premises beyond the Harper Hall.

  "It?" Nip said, grinning up at his MasterHarper with mischief as he tried to keep up with Robinton's long stride.

  "Whatever it is you'll be up to next." Robinton shortened his steps in deference to Nip's exhaustion.

  "Let me report first, Rob," said Nip, trying to wriggle free.

  "I won't listen to a word until you are gone over, washed, and fed," Robinton said firmly.

  Nip knew when to give in to a superior.

  Master Oldive commented on the number of bruises and scrapes, and the two swollen and empurpled toes on one foot.

  "He must bounce," the Master said with a sly grin after he had completed his examination. The spinal deformation which marred the Healer's back and had brought him to the Hall in the first place seemed to fascinate Nip, who kept trying not to look at it. Long since, Oldive had become impervious to such observations.

  "Sound, if contused, but no lasting harm that a good hot bath, a double portion of whatever Silvina has in the hearth pot and several days in bed will not cure."

  "Several days?" Nip would have jumped from the examining table but for the restraining hands of both healer and harper. "I wouldn't mind a bath, I can tell you," he said more meekly, rubbing dirt-encrusted fingers together. "And some decent food."

  So he was given both, and he probably did not notice that Oldive, who joined him and Robinton in Silvina's little office, slipped something in his klah. He had finished his meal before the drug took effect; he was just pushing back the final dish of sweet pudding when he abruptly sagged down to the table top, his face just missing a splash of the pudding sauce that had spilled there.

  "Good timing there, Oldive," Robinton commented.

  "Yes, rather good, if I say so myself."

  Silvina gave them each a jaundiced glance. "The pair of you! You're wretches, dyed-in-the-bone wretches."

  "Ever at your service, my pet," Robinton said, giving her a flourish which ended as he took one side of the unconscious Nip while Oldive took the other, lifting the limp
form off his bench. With Silvina opening doors ahead of them, they carried the runner up to the Harper's quarters where he was carefully laid down on the bed in the spare room and covered, to sleep himself out.

  "That was a rotten trick, Robinton," Nip complained when he woke a day and a half later. Then his face dissolved into a grin which was singular enough to give him a totally different appearance.

  "I needed that." He stretched and took the cup of klah which the Harper had readied as soon as he heard noises from that room.

  Robinton was privately amused that Nip's timing was good. He had begun to wonder about the man's whereabouts.

  "So I'm ready to listen," Robinton said, as he started to pull the chair forward, "unless you wish to eat first."

  "No, I'd rather not turn my stomach while I'm eating." And with that dour statement Nip warned Robinton that his report was bad.

  "It's as well Tarathel sent so many. Vendross, who captained them, is a good man and a canny leader. He took no chances. There were more of Fax's louts camped at the Crom border Vendross spread his men out across the border and turned back those who tried to sneak right back into Telgar lands. There were a good number of Tarathel's regular guards, and those Vendross set to watch at the fiver holds and report any sightings. The others he sent back home."

  Robinton nodded. At least Tarathel would take no chances that Fax might be coveting the broad Telgar Valley, not to mention the SmithCraftHall at the junction of the Great Dunto River.

  "I sort of went forward three steps and back a few, trying to keep track of how many were splitting off. But the main group of fourteen continued on back to Crom. When I was sure that Vendross ..."

  "Does he know you?"

  Nip made a face, tilted one hand back and forth, and then grinned again. "Kind of. He never asks. I never tell. But he trusts my reports."

  "As well he should."

  "Thank 'ee kindly, MasterHarper, sor," Nip retorted cheekily. "So I kept on, ahead a bit, to see which way they might go." He shook his head, his expression sad. "I wouldn't want to be under that man's Hold for any reason. What he does to those unfortunates there ..." He shook his head, sighed, and then seemed to shake himself out of such reflections. "I'll tell you this now, Harper, in case you ever need to know." The tone made Robinton regard Nip fearfully.