Dragonsong - Энн Маккефри 3 стр.

With luck, thought Menolly, she could get her sack down to the water rooms

Where did you go for those greens, Menolly? Nerat? Her mother appeared in front of her.

Almost.

Immediately Menolly saw that her pert words were ill-timed. Mavi roughly grabbed the sack and peered inside critically. If youd not made the trip worth the whileSails been sighted,

Sail?

Mavi closed the sack and shoved it back into Menollys hands. Yes, sail. You should have been back hours ago. Whatever possessed you to take off so far with Thread

There werent any greens nearer

With Thread due to fall anytime? Youre a fool twice over.

I was safe enough. I saw a dragonrider doing his sweep

That pleased Mavi. Thank heavens were beholden to Benden. Theyre a proper Weyr. Mavi gave her daughter a shove towards the kitchen level. Take those, and be sure the girls wash every speck of sand off. Who knows whos sailing in?

Menolly slipped through the busy kitchen, countering orders flung at her by various other women who saw in her a capable assistant at their own tasks. Menolly merely brandished the sack and proceeded down to the water rooms. There some of the older but still able women were busily sandscouring the best metal plates and trays.

I must have one basin for the greens, auntie, said Menolly, pushing up to the rank of stone sinks.

Greens is easier on old skin than sand, said one of the women in a quavering, long-suffering voice and promptly deposited her pile of plates into the sink be side her and pulled her plug.

More sand in greens than cleaning, another woman remarked in an acid tone.

Yes, but take it off greens, said the obliging one. Oh, what a lovely mess of yellow-veins, too. Where did you find them this time of year, daughter?

Halfway to Nerat. Menolly suppressed her grin at their startled shrieks of dismay. The furthest theyd stir from the Hold was the ledge in front on a sunny day.

With Thread falling? You naughty girl! Did you hear about the sail? Who do you suppose? The new Harper, who else? There was a wild chorus of cackling laughs and great wonderings about the appearance of the new Harper.

They always send a young one here!

Petiron was old!

He got that way. Same as we did!

How would you remember?

Why not? Ive lived through more Harpers than you have, my girl.

You have not! I came here from Red Sands in Ista

You were born at Half-Circle, you old fool, and I birthed you!

Ha!

Menolly listened to the four old women arguing back and forth until she heard her mother demanding to know if the greens had been washed. And where were the good plates and how was she to get anything done with all the gossip?

Menolly found a sieve large enough to hold the washed greens and brought them up for her mothers inspection.

Well, thatll be enough for the head table, Mavi said, poking at the glistening mound with her fork. Then she stared at her daughter. You cant appear like that. Here you, Bardie, take the greens and put the dressing on them. The one in the brown flask on the fourth shelf in the cool room. You, Menolly, have the goodness to get yourself sandfree and decently dressed. Youre to attend Old Uncle. The moment he opens his mouth, shove something into it or well be hearing him all night long.

Menolly groaned. Old Uncle smelled almost as much as he chattered.

Sellas much better handling him, Mavi

Sellas to attend head table. You do as youre told and be grateful! Mavi fixed her rebellious daughter with a stern eye, tacitly reminding her of her disgrace. Then Mavi was called away to check a sauce for the baking fish.

Menolly went off to the bathing rooms, trying to convince herself that she was lucky she hadnt been banished completely from the Hall this evening. Though tending Old Uncle came as close as could be to banishment. Honor obliged the Sea Holder to have all his household there to greet the new Harper.

Menolly shucked off the dirty tunic and breeches, and slipped into the warm bathing pool. She swung her shoulders this way and that for the water to wash the sand and sweat as painlessly as possible from her sore back. Her hair was all gritty with sea sand, too, so she washed that. She was quick because shed have her hands full with Old Uncle. Itd be much better to have him all arranged in his hearth seat before everyone else assembled for dinner.

Draping her dirty clothes around her, Menolly took the calculated risk that few people would be in the High Hold at this hour and charged up the dimly lit steps from the bathing pools to the sleeping level. Every glow in the main corridor was uncovered, which meant that the Harper, if such it were, would have a guided tour of the Hold later. She dashed down to the narrow steps leading to the girls dormitories, and got into her cubicle without a soul the wiser.

When she got to Old Uncles room, later, she had to clean his face and hands and slip a clean tunic over his bony shoulders. All the while he was chattering about new blood in the Hold and hee-hee who was the new Harper going to marry? Hed a thing or two to tell the Harper, give him the chance, and why did she have to be so rough? His bones ached. Must be a change in the weather because his old legs never failed to give warning. Hadnt he warned them about the big storm a while back? Two boats had been lost with all crew. If theyd paid attention to his warning, it wouldnt have happened. His own son was the worst one for not listening to what his father said and why was she hurrying him so? He liked to take his time. No, couldnt he have the blue tunic? The one his daughter had made him, matching his eyes, shed said. And why hadnt Turlon come to see him today as hed asked and asked and asked, but who paid him any heed anymore?

The old man was so frail that he was no burden to a strong girl like Menolly. She carried him down the steps, he complaining all the way about people whod been dead before she was born. Old Uncles notion of time was distorted, thats what Petiron had told her. Brightest in Uncles memory were his earlier days, when hed been Sea Holder of Half-Circle, before a tangled trawler line had sliced off his legs below the knee. The great Hall was almost ready for guests when Menolly entered with him.

Theyre tacking into Dock, someone was saying as Menolly arranged Old Uncle in his special seat by the fire. She wrapped him well in the softened wherhides and tied the strap that would keep him upright. When he got excited, Old Uncle had a tendency to forget he had no feet.

Whos tacking into Dock? Whos coming? Whats all the hubblebubble about?

Menolly told him, and he subsided, moments later wanting to know in a querulous tone of voice if anyone was going to feed him or was he supposed to sit here dinnerless?

Sella, in the gown shed spent all winter making, swirled past Menolly, pressing a small packet into her hand.

Feed him these if he gets difficult! And she skimmed away before Menolly could say a word.

Opening the packet, Menolly saw balls of a sweet made from seaweed, flavored with purple grass seed. One could chew these for hours, keeping the mouth fresh and moist. Small wonder Sellad been able to keep Old Uncle happy. Menolly giggled and then wondered why Sella was being so helpful. It must have pleased Sella no end to learn Menolly had been displaced as Harper. Or would she know? Mavi wouldnt have mentioned it. Ah, but the Harper was here now, anyhow.

Now that she had Old Uncle settled, Menollys curiosity got the better of her and she slipped over to the windows. There was no sign of the sail in the harbor now, but she could see the cluster of men, glows held high, as they walked around the shore from the Dock to the Hold proper. Keen though her eyes were, Menolly could not pick out the new faces and that was that.

Old Uncle began one of his monologues in a high-pitched voice, so Menolly scooted back to his side before her mother could notice shed left her post. There was so much bustle, putting food on the tables, pouring the welcoming cups of wine, all the Hold arranging itself to meet the guests, no one noticed what Menolly was or wasnt doing.

Just then, Old Uncle came to himself again, eyes bright and focused on her face. Whats the stir today, girl? Good haul? Someone getting spliced? Whats the lay?

Theres a new Harper coming, everyone thinks, Old Uncle.

Not another one? Old Uncle was disgusted. Harpers aint what they used to be when I was Sea Holder, not by a long crack. I mind myself of one Harper we had

His voice fell clearly in the suddenly quiet Hall.

Menolly! Her mothers voice was low, but the urgency was unmistakable.

Menolly fumbled in her skirt pocket, found two sweet-balls and popped them into old Uncles mouth. Whatever hed been about to say was stopped by the necessity of dealing with two large round objects. He mumbled contentedly to himself as he chewed and chewed and chewed.

All the food had been served and everyone seated before Menolly got so much as a glimpse of the new arrivals. There had been a new Harper. She heard his name before she ever saw his face. Elgion, Harper Elgion. She heard that he was young and good-looking and had brought two gitars, two wooden pipes and three drums, each carried separately in its own case of stiffened wherhide. She heard that hed been very seasick across Keroon Bay and wasnt doing justice to the lavish dinner spread in his honor. With him had come a craftmaster from the Smith-crafthall to do the metal work required on the new ship and other repairs beyond the metalman in the Sea Hold. She heard that there was urgent need at Igen Hold for any salted or smoked fish the Sea Hold might have to spare on the return voyage.

From where Menolly sat with Old Uncle, she could see the backs of heads at the high table and occasionally a profile of one of the visitors. Very frustrating. So was Old Uncle and the other elderly relatives whose old bones rated them a spot near the fire. The aunts were, as usual, squabbling over who had received the choicer portions of fish, and then Old Uncle decided to call them to order, only his mouth was full at that moment and he choked. So the aunts turned on Menolly for trying to stuff him to an early death. Menolly could hear nothing over their babble. She tried to content herself with the prospect of hearing the Harper sing, as he surely would once the interminable meal was ended. But it was hot so close to the big fire and the heat made Old Uncle smell worse than ever, and she was very tired after the days exertions.

She was roused from a half doze by a sudden hall-wide thudding of heavy seaboots. She jerked fully awake to see the tall figure of the new Harper rising at the head table. He had his gitar ready and was taking an easy stance, one foot on the stone bench.

Youre sure this Hall isnt rocking? he asked, strumming a few chords to test the instruments pitch. He was assured that the Hall had been steady for many, many Turns, never known to rock at all. The Harper affected not to be reassured as he tuned the G-string slightly higher (to Menollys relief). He made the gitar moan then, like a seasick soul.

As laughter rippled through the eager audience, Menolly strained to see how her father was taking this approach. The Sea Holder had little humor. A Harpers welcome was a serious occasion, and Elgion did not appear to realize this. Petiron had often told Menolly how carefully Harpers were chosen for the Hold they were assigned to. Hadnt anyone warned Elgion about her fathers temperament?

Suddenly Old Uncle cut across the gentle strumming with a cackle of laughter. Ha! A man with humor! Thats what we need in this Holdsome laughter. Some music! Been missing it. Lets have some rollicking tunes, some funny songs. Give us a good rib-popping ditty, Harper. You know the ones I like.

Menolly was aghast. She fumbled in her skirt pocket for some of the sweetballs as she shushed Old Uncle. This was exactly the sort of incident that she was supposed to prevent.

Harper Elgion had turned at the imperious order, bowing with good respect to the old gentleman by the hearth.

I would that I could, Old Uncle, he said most courteously, but these are serious times, and his fingers plucked deep sombre notes, very serious times and we must put lightness and laughter behind us. Square our backs to the problems that face us and with that he swung into a new exhortation to obey the Weyr and honor the dragonrider.

The sticky sweetballs had got warmed and stuck to the fabric of her pocket, but Menolly finally got some out and into Old Uncles mouth. He chewed angrily, fully aware that his mouth was being plugged and resenting it. He chewed as fast as he could, swallowing to clear his mouth for more complaints. Menolly was only just aware that the new tune was forceful, the words stirring. Harper Elgion had a rich tenor voice, strong and sure. Then old Uncle began to hiccup. Noisily, of course. And to complain, or try to, through the hiccups. Menolly hissed at him to hold his breath, but he was furious at not being allowed to talk, at getting hiccups, and he started to pound the arm of his chair. The thumps made an out-of-tempo counterpoint to the Harpers song and brought her furious glances from the head table.

One of the aunts gave her some water for the old man, which he overturned on Menolly. The next thing, Sella was beside her, gesturing that they were to take the old man back to his quarters instantly.

He was still hiccuping as they put him back to bed, and still beating the air with punctuated gestures and half-uttered complaints.

Youll have to stay with him until he calms down, Menolly, or hell fall out of bed. Whyever didnt you give him the sweetballs? They always shut him up, Sella said.

I did. Theyre what started him hiccuping.

You cant do anything right, can you?

Please, Sella. You stay with him. You manage him so well. Ive had him all evening and not heard a word

You were told to keep him quiet. You didnt. You stay. And Sella swept out of the room, leaving Menolly to cope.

That was the end of the first of Menollys difficult days. It took hours for the old man to calm down and go to sleep. Then, as Menolly wearily got to her cubicle, her mother arrived to berate her soundly for the inattention that had given Uncle a chance to embarrass the entire Hold. Menolly was given no chance to explain.

The next day, Thread fell, sequestering them all within the Hold for hours. When the Fall was over, she had to go with the flamethrower crews. The leading edge of Thread had tipped the marshes, which meant hours of plodding through sticky marsh mud and slimy sand.

She was tired enough when she returned from that task, but then they all had to help load the big nets and ready the boats for a night trawl. The tide was right then.

She was roused before sunrise the next morning to gut and salt the phenomenal catch. That took all the live-long day and sent her to bed so weary she just stripped off her dirty clothes, and dropped into her sleeping furs.

The next day was devoted to net-mending, normally a pleasant task because the Hold women would chat and sing. But her father was anxious for the nets to be repaired quickly so that he could take the evening tide again for another deep-sea cast. Everyone bent to his work without time for talk or singing while the Sea Holder prowled among them. He seemed to watch Menolly more often than anyone else, and she felt clumsy.

It was then that she began to wonder if perhaps the new Harper had found fault with the way the youngsters had been taught their Ballads and Sagas. Time and again Petiron had told her that there was only one way to teach them and, as she had learned properly from him, she must have passed on the knowledge correctly. Why then did her father seem to be so annoyed with her? Why did he glare at her so much? Was he still angry with her for letting Old Uncle babble?

She worried enough to ask her sister about it that evening when the ships had finally set sail and everyone else could relax a little.

Angry about Old Uncle? Sella shrugged. What on earth are you talking about, girl? Who remembers that? You think entirely too much about yourself, Menolly, thats your biggest problem. Why should Yanus care one way or another about you?

The scorn in Sellas voice reminded Menolly too acutely that she was only a girl, too big for a proper girl, and the youngest of a large family, therefore of least account. It was in no way a consolation to be insignificant, even if her father was, for that reason, less likely to notice her. Or remember her misdeeds. Except that hed remembered about her singing her own songs to the youngsters. Or had Sella forgotten that? Or did Sella even know that?

Probably, thought Menolly as she tried to find a comfortable spot in the old bed rushes for her weary body. But then, what Sella said about Menolly thinking only of herself applied even more to Sella, who was always thinking about her appearance and her self. Sella was old enough to be married to some advantage to the Hold. Her father had only three fosterlings at the moment, but four of Menollys six brothers were out at other Sea Holds, learning their trade. Now, with a Harper to speak for them all again, perhaps thered be some rearrangements.

The next day the Hold women spent in washing clothes. With Threadfall past, and a good clear sunny day, they could count on fast drying. Menolly hoped for a chance to speak to her mother to find out if the Harper had faulted her teaching, but the opportunity never arose. Instead, Menolly came in for another scolding from Mavi for the state of her clothes, unmended; her bed furs, unaired; her hair, her sloppy appearance and her slothfulness in general. That evening Menolly was quite content to take a bowl of soup and disappear into a shadowy corner of the big kitchen rather than be noticed again. She kept wondering why she was being singled out for so much misunderstanding.

Her thoughts kept returning to the sin of having strummed a few bars of her own song. That, and being a girl and the only one who could teach or play in the absence of a real Harper.

Yes, she finally decided, that was the reason for her universal disfavor. No one wanted the Harper to know that the youngsters had been schooled by a girl. But, if she hadnt taught them right, then Petiron had taught her all wrong. That didnt hold water. And, if the old man had really written the Masterharper about her, wouldnt the new Harper have been curious, or sought her out? Maybe her songs hadnt been as good as old Petiron had thought. Probably Petiron had never sent them to the Masterharper. And that message hadnt said anything about her. At any rate, the packet was now gone from the mantel in the Records room. And, the way things were going, Menolly would never get close enough to Elgion to introduce herself.

Sure as the sun came up, Menolly could guess what shed have to do the next daygather new grasses and rushes to repack all the beds in the Hold. It was just the sort of thing her mother would think of for someone so out of favor.

She was wrong. The ships came back to port just after dawn, their holds packed with yellow-stripe and packtails. The entire Hold was turned out to gut, salt and start the smoke-cave.

Of all the fish in the sea, Menolly detested packtails the most. An ugly fish, with sharp spines all over, it oozed an oily slime that ate into the flesh of your hands and made the skin peel off. Packtails were more head and mouth than anything else but hack the front end off and the rounded, blunt tail could be sliced off the backbone. Grilled fresh it was succulent eating: smoked it could be softened later for baking or boiling and be as tasty as the day it was caught. But packtails were the messiest, hardest, toughest, smelliest fish to gut.

Halfway through the morning, Menollys knife slipped across the fish she was slicing, gashing her left palm wide open. The pain and shock were so great that Menolly just stood, stupidly staring at her hand bones, until Sella realized that she wasnt keeping pace with the others.

Menolly, just dreamingOh, for the love ofMavi! Mavi! Sella could be irritating, but she could keep her wits. As she did now, grabbing Menollys wrist and stopping the spurt of blood from the severed artery.

As Mavi came and led her past the furiously working holders, Menolly was seized with a sense of guilt. Everyone glared at her as if shed deliberately wounded herself to get out of working. The humiliation and silent accusations brought tears to her eyes, not the pain nor the sick feeling in her hand.

I didnt do it on purpose, Menolly blurted out to her mother as they reached the Holds infirmary.

Her mother stared at her. Who said that you did?

No one! They just looked it!

My girl, you think entirely too much about yourself. I assure you that no one was thinking any such thing. Now hold your hand, so, for a moment.

The blood spurted up as Mavi released the pressure on the tendon in Menollys wrist. For one instant Menolly thought she might faint, but she was determined not to think of herself again. She pretended that she didnt own the hand that Mavi was going to have to fix.

Mavi now deftly fastened a tourniquet and then laved the wound with a pungent herbal lotion. Menollys hand began to numb, increasing her detachment from the injury. The bleeding ceased, but some how Menolly couldnt bring herself to look into the wound. Instead she watched the intent expression on her mothers face as she quickly stitched the severed blood vessel and closed the long slice. Then she slathered quantities of salve on the cut and bound the hand in soft cloths.

There! Lets hope I got all that packtail slime out of the wound.

Concern and doubt caused Mavi to frown, and Menolly became fearful. Suddenly she remembered other things: women losing fingers and

My hand will be all right, wont it?

Well hope so.

Mavi never lied, and the small hard ball of sick fear began to unknot in Menollys stomach. You should have some use of it. Enough for all practical purposes.

What do you mean? Practical purposes? Wont I be able to play again?

Play? Mavi gave her daughter a long, hard stare, as if shed mentioned something forbidden. Your playing days are over, Menolly. Youre way past the teaching

But the new Harper has new songsthe ballad he sang the first nightI never heard all of it. I dont know the chording. I want to learn She broke off, horribly frightened by the closed look on her mothers face, and the shine of pity in her eyes.

Even if your fingers will work after that slice, you wont be playing again. Content yourself that Yanus was so indulgent while old Petiron was dying

But Petiron

Thats enough buts. Here, drink this. I want you in your bed before it puts you to sleep. Youve lost a lot of blood, and I cant have you fainting away on me.

Stunned by her mothers words, Menolly barely tasted the bitter wine and weed. She stumbled, even with her mothers help, up the stone steps to her cubicle. She was cold despite the furs, cold in spirit. But the wine and weed had been liberally mixed, and she couldnt fight the effect. Her last conscious thought was of misery, of being cheated of the one thing that had made her life bearable. She knew now what a dragonless rider must feel.

Chapter 4

Despite her mothers care in cleaning the wound, Menollys hand was swollen by evening and she was feverish with pain. One of the old aunts sat with her, placing cool cloths on her head and face, and gently crooning what she thought would be a comforting song. The notion was misplaced since, even in her delirium, Menolly was aware that music had now been forbidden her. She became more irritated and restless. Finally Mavi dosed her liberally with fellis juice and wine, and she fell into a deep slumber.

This proved to be a blessing because the hand had so swollen that it was obvious some of the packtail slime had gotten in the bloodstream. Mavi called in one of the other Hold women deft in such matters. Luckily for Menolly, they decided to release the coarse stitches, to allow better drainage of the infection. They kept Menolly heavily dosed and hourly changed the hot poulticing of her hand and arm.

Packtail infection was pernicious, and Mavi was dreadfully afraid that they might have to remove Menollys arm to prevent a further spread. She was constantly by her daughters side, an attention that Menolly would have been surprised, and gratified, to receive, but she remained unconscious. Fortunately the angry red lines faded on the girls swollen arm on the evening of the fourth day. The swelling receded, and the edges of the terrible gash assumed the healthier color of healing flesh.

Throughout her delirium, Menolly kept begging them to let her play just once more, just once again, pleading in such a pitiful tone that it all but broke Mavis heart to realize that unkind fortune had made that impossible. The hand would always be crippled. Which was as well since some of the new Harpers questions were provoking Yanus. Elgion very much wanted to know who had drilled the youngsters in their Teaching Songs and Ballads. At first, thinking that Menolly had been nowhere near as skilled as everyone had assumed, Yanus had told Elgion that a fosterling had undertaken the task and hed returned to his own Hold just prior to the Harpers arrival.

Whoever did has the makings of a good Harper then, Elgion told his new Holder. Old Petiron was a better teacher than most.

The praise unexpectedly disturbed Yanus. He couldnt retract his words, and he didnt want to admit to Elgion that the person was a girl. So Yanus decided to let matters stand. No girl could be a Harper, any way the road turned. Menolly was too old now to be in any of the classes, and hed see that she was busy with other things until she came to think of her playing as some childish fancy. At least she hadnt disgraced the Hold.

He was, of course, sorry that the girl had cut herself so badly, and not entirely because she was a good worker. Still it kept her out of the Harpers way until she forgot her silly tuning. Once or twice though, while Menolly was ill, he missed her clear sweet voice in countersong, the way she and Petiron used to sing. Yet he dismissed the matter from his mind. Women had more to do than sit about singing and playing.

There were exciting doings in the Holds and Weyrs, according to Elgions private report to him. Troubles, too, deep and worrisome enough to take his mind from the minor matter of a wounded girl.

One of the questions that Harper Elgion often posed concerned the Sea Holds attitude towards their Weyr, Benden. Elgion was curious as to how often they came in contact with the Oldtimers at Ista Weyr. How did Yanus and his holders feel about dragonriders? About the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman of Benden? If they resented dragonmen going on Search for young boys and girls of the Holds and Crafthalls to become dragonriders? Had Yanus or any of his Hold ever attended a Hatching?

Yanus answered the questions with the fewest possible words, and at first this seemed to satisfy the Harper.

Half-Circles always tithed to Benden Weyr, even before Thread fell. We know our duty to our Weyr, and they do theirs by us. Not a single burrow of Thread since the Fall started seven or more Turns ago.

Oldtimers? Well, with Half-Circle beholden to Benden Weyr, we dont much see any of the other Weyrs, not as the people in Keroon or Nerat might when the Fall overlaps two Weyrs boundaries. Very glad we were that the Oldtimers would come between so many hundreds of Turns to help our time out.

Dragonmen are welcome any time at Half-Circle. Come spring and fall, the women are here anyway, gathering seabeachplums and marshberries, grasses and the like. Welcome to all they want.

Never met Weyrwoman Lessa. I see her on her queen Ramoth in the sky after a Fall now and then. Weyrleader Flars a fine fellow.

Search? Do they find any likely lad at Half-Circle, it will be to our honor, and hes our leave to go.

Although the problem had never worried the Sea Holder; no one from Half-Circle had answered a Search. Which was as well, Yanus thought privately. If a lad happened to be chosen, every other lad in the Hold would take to grumbling that he should have been picked. And on the seas of Pern, you had to keep your mind on your work, not on dreams. Bad enough to have those pesky fire lizards appearing now and then by the Dragon Stones. But as no one could get near enough to the stones to catch a fire lizard, no harm was done.