Enough, Domick. The childs worried sick that shes done something wrong. Well, you havent, Menolly, Talmor said, patting her hand encouragingly. You see, he went on, glaring in a good-natured fashion at Domick, he just finished writing it. Youve played the fingers off Sebell and me. Domicks panting for breath. And youve managed to plow through one of Domicks tortuous inventions withwell, I did hear one faulty chording besides the one you just pointed out, but, as you say, your hand
Now Sebell lifted his head, and Menolly stared at him because his eyes were overflowing with tears. But at the same time, he was laughing! Convulsed with mirth he wagged an impotent finger at Domick, unable to speak.
Domick batted irritably at Sebells hand and glared at both journeymen. Thats enough. All right, so the jokes on me, but youll have to admit that there was good precedent for my skepticism. Anyone can play solo He turned on the bewildered Menolly. Did you play a great deal with Petiron? Or any of the other musicians at Half-Circle?
There was only Petiron who could play properly. Fishing leaves a mans hands too stiff for any fine music. She flicked a glance at Sebell. There were a few drummers and stickmen
Her reply set Sebell laughing again. He hadnt seemed the sort, Menolly thought, being so calm and quiet. To be sure he was laughing without roaring but
Suppose you tell me exactly what you did do at Half-Circle Sea Hold, Menolly. Musically, that is. Master Robintons been too busy to confer with me at any length.
Domicks words implied that he had the right to know whatever it was she might tell Master Robinton, and she saw Sebell nodding his head in permission. So she thought for a moment. Would it be proper, now, to tell the Harpers that she had taught the children after Petiron had died and before the new Harper had come? Yes, because Harper Elgion must have told Master Robinton, and he hadnt chided her for stepping into a mans duties. Further, Master Domick had taunted her with telling the truth once before. Rather than antagonize him for any reason, she had best be candid now. So she spoke of her situation at Half-Circle Sea Hold: how Petiron had singled her out when she was old enough to learn Teaching Ballads and Sagas. He had taught her to play gitar and harp, to help with the teaching, she assured her listeners, and with the evening singing. Domick nodded. And how Petiron had shown her all the music he had, but hed only three pieces of occasional music because he said there wasnt need for more. Yanus, the Sea Holder, wanted music to sing to, not listen to.
Naturally, Domick replied, nodding again.
And Petiron had taught her how to cut and hole reeds to make pipes, to stretch skin on drum frames, large and small, the principles involved in making a gitar or small harp, but there was no hardwood in the Sea Hold for another harp, and no real need for Menolly to have either harp or gitar. Two Turns ago, however, shed had to take over the playing of the Teaching because Petirons hands had become crippled with the knuckle disease. And then, of course, and now Menolly felt the lump of grief rising in her throat, shed done all the teaching when Petiron had died because Yanus realized that the young must be kept up in their Teaching Ballads and Songs since he knew his duty to the Weyr, and she was the only person in the Hold who could be spared from the fishing.
Of course, Domick had said. And when you cut your hand?
Oh, the new Harper, Elgion, had arrived so Iwasnt required to play anymore. And besides, she held her hand up explanatorily, it was thought Id never be able to play again.
She wasnt conscious of the silence at first, her head bent, her eyes on her hand, rubbing the scar with her right thumb, because the intensive playing had caused it to ache again.
When Petiron was here at the Hall, there was no finer musician, no better instructor, Master Domick said quietly. I had the good fortune to be his apprentice. Youve no need ever to be ashamed of your playing
Or of your joy in music, Sebell added, no laughter in his eyes now as he leaned toward her.
Joy in music! His words were like a release. How could he have known so acutely!
Now that youre at the Harper Hall, Menolly, what would you like best to do? Master Domick asked her, his tone so casual, so neutral that Menolly couldnt think what answer he expected of her.
Joy in music. How could she express that? In writing the kind of songs Master Robinton needed? How would she know what he needed? And hadnt Talmor said that Domick had composed the magnificent quartet they had just played? Why did Master Robinton need another composer if he already had Domick in the Hall?
You mean, play or sing, or teach?
Master Domick widened his eyes and regarded her with a half-smile. If thats what you wish?
Im here to learn, arent I? She avoided his taunt.
Domick acknowledged that that was true enough. So Ill learn the things I havent had the chance to learn before because Petiron told me there were a lot of things he couldnt teach me. Like how to use my voice properly. Thats going to take a lot of hard work with Master Shonagar. He only lets me breathe and sing five-note scales Talmor grinned so broadly at her, his eyes dancing as if he knew so exactly her feelings that she took encouragement from him. Id really loveThen she hesitated because of what Domick might say and she dreaded his clever-edged tongue.
What do you really want, Menolly? asked Sebell kindly.
Youre frightening her, Domick, Talmor said at the same time.
Nonsense. Are you frightened of me, Menolly? He sounded surprised. Its having to train idiots that sours me, Menolly, said Master Domick, but his voice was suddenly gentler. Now tell me what facet of music appeals to you most?
He caught her gaze and would not release her eyes, but his phrasing had given her the answer.
What appeals to me most? Why, playing like this, in a group. She the words out in a rush, gesturing at the rack in front of her. Its so beautiful. Its such a challenge, to hear the interweaving harmonies and the melody line changing from instrument to instrument. I felt as if I waswas flying on a dragon!
Domick looked startled and blinked, a slow pleased smile lighting his otherwise dour face.
She means it, Domick, Talmor said in the pause that followed.
Oh, I do. Its the most exciting thing Ive ever played. Only
Only what? urged Talmor when she faltered.
I didnt play it right. I should have studied the music longer before I started playing because I was so busy watching the notes and time changes that I didnt, I couldnt, follow the dynamic markings I am sorry.
Domick brought his hand against his forehead in an exasperated smack. Sebell dissolved again into his quiet laughter. But Talmor just howled, slapping his knee and pointing at Domick.
In that case, Menolly, we will play it again, Domick said, raising his voice to drown the amusement of the others. And this time he frowned at Menolly, an expression which no longer distressed her because she knew that she had touched him, watching those dynamic signs, which I put in for very good reason. Now, on the beat
They did not play the music through. Domick stopped them, time and again, insisting on a retard here, a variation of the designated time here, a better balance of the instruments in another section. In some respects, this was as satisfying as playing for Menolly, since Domicks comments gave her insights to the music as well as its composer. Sebell had been right about her studying with Domick. She had a lot to learn from a man who could write music like this, pure music.
Then Talmor began to argue interpretation with Domick, an argument cut short by the eerie sound that began softly and increased in volume and intensity so that it was almost unbearable in the closed room. Abruptly her fire lizards appeared.
How did they get in here like that? Talmor demanded, hunching his shoulders to protect his head as the study got overcrowded with nervous fire lizards.
Theyre like dragons, you know, Sebell said, equally wary of claw and wing.
Tell those creatures to settle down, Menolly, commanded Domick.
The noise bothers them.
Thats only the Threadfall alarm, said Domick, but the men were putting down their instruments.
Menolly called her fire lizards to order, and they settled on the shelves, their eyes wheeling with alarm.
Wait here, Menolly, Domick said as he and the others made for the door. Well be back. That is, I will
And I, I, too, said the others, and then they all stamped out of the room.
Menolly sat uneasily, aware that the Hall was preparing for Threadfall, as she had prepared for the menace all her conscious years. She heard racing feet in the corridors, for the door was half ajar. Then the clanging of shutters, the squeal of metal, many shouts and a gradual compression of air in the room. The sudden throb as the great ventilating fans of the Hall were set into motion for the duration of Threadfall. Once again, she found herself wishing to be back in the safety of her seaside cave. She had always hated being closed in at Half-Circle Sea Hold during Threadfall. There never seemed to be enough air to breathe during those fear-filled times. The cave, safe but with a reassuringly clear view of the sea, had been a perfect compromise between security and convention.
Beauty chirped inquiringly and then sprang from the shelf to Menollys shoulder. She wasnt nervous at being closed in, but she was very much aware of Threads imminence, her slim body taut, her eyes whirling.
The clatter and clangs, the shouts and stampings ceased. Menolly heard the low murmur of mens voices on the steps as Domick and the two journeymen returned.
Granted that your left hand wont do octave stretches yet, Domick said, addressing Menolly but more as if he were continuing a conversation begun with the two journeymen, how much harp instruction did Petiron give you?
He had one small floor harp, sir, but wed such a desperate time getting new wire, so I sort of learned to
Improvise? asked Sebell, extending his harp to her. She thanked him and politely proffered the gitar in its place, which he, with equally grave courtesy, accepted.
Domick had been riffling through music on the shelves and brought over another score, worn and faded in spots but legible enough, he said, for the purpose.
Menolly rubbed her fingertips experimentally. Shed lost most of the harp-string calluses, and her fingers would be sore but perhaps She looked up at Domick and receiving permission, plucked an arpeggio. Sebells harp was a joy to use, the tone singing through the frame, held between her knees, like liquid sound. She had to shift her fingers awkwardly to make the octave run. Despite the fact that her scar made her wince more than once, she became so quickly involved in the music that the discomfort could be ignored. She was a bit startled when she reached the finale to realize that the others had been playing along with her.
In the slow section, she asked, is the major seventh chord accented throughout? The notation doesnt say.
Whether it is or not must wait for another day, Domick said, firmly taking the harp from her and handing it back to Sebell. Youll live to play harp another time, Menolly. No more now. He turned her left hand over so she was forced to notice that the scar had split and was bleeding slightly from the tear.
But
But Domick interrupted her more gently than he usually spoke, its time to eat. Everyone has to eat sometime, Menolly.
They were all grinning at her and, emboldened by the rapport shed had with them during their practice, she smiled back. Now she smelled the aroma of roasted meat and spices and was mildly astonished to feel her stomach churning with hunger. To be sure, she hadnt eaten much at the cot, with everyone glaring at her so.
Some of her elation with the mornings satisfying work was dampened by the realization that shed have to sit with the girls. But that was a small blemish on the pleasure of the hours gone past. To her surprise, however, there were no girls at the hearth table, and the great metal doors of the Hall were locked tight, the windows shuttered, the dining hall lit by the great central and corner baskets of glows; in some obscure way, the hall looked more friendly than shed seen it before.
Everyone else was seated, though her quick glance did not show Master Robinton to be in his customary place at the round table. Master Morshal was and frowned at her until Master Domick gave her a shove toward her place as he drew out his own chair. Sebell and Talmor seemed in no way abashed as they went late to the oval journeymens tables. But Menolly felt more conspicuous than ever as she walked awkwardly toward the hearth table. And it wasnt her imagination: every eye in the room was on her.
Hey, Menolly, said a familiar voice in a harsh but carrying whisper, hurry up so we can get fed. She saw Piemur slapping the empty place beside him. See? he said to his neighbor, I told you she wouldnt be hiding in the Hold with the others. Then he added, under the cover of the noise of everyone taking their seats, You arent afraid of Thread, are you?
Why should I be? Menolly was being truthful, but it obviously stood her in good credit with the boys near enough to hear her reply. And I thought you said you werent supposed to sit at the girls table?
Theyre not here, are they? And you said you wanted someone to talk to. So here I am.
Menolly? asked the boy with the protuberant eyes who usually sat opposite her, do fire lizards breathe fire like dragons and go after Thread?
Menolly glanced at Piemur to see if he were back of the question. He shrugged innocence.
Mine never have, but theyre young.
I told you so, Brolly, replied Piemur. Dragonets in the Weyrs dont fight Thread, and fire lizards are just small dragons. Right, Menolly?
They do seem to be, she said, temporizing slightly, but neither debater noticed.
Then where are they now? Brolly wanted to know, slightly sneering.
In Master Domicks study.
The meat reached them and further discussion was suspended. Today Menolly blithely speared four slices of juicy meat to her plate. She reached for bread, beating Brollys grab for some. And she dished Piemur some of the redroots, which he wasnt going to take. He was much too small not to eat properly.
Whether it was Piemurs company or the absence of the girls, or both, Menolly didnt know, but suddenly she was included in the table conversations. The boys opposite her had question after question about her fire lizards: how she had accidentally discovered the queens clutch in the sand; how shed saved the hatchlings from destruction by Thread; how she had found enough food to support their voracious appetites; how shed dragged a wherry from the mire to provide oil for her fire lizards patchy skins. She sensed that the boys gradually became reconciled to her possession of so many fire lizards because it was obviously no gather day to take care of them. They had the most bizarre theories about fire lizards and a few unsubtle queries about when would her queen fly to mate and how soon would there be a clutch and how many in it.
The masters and journeymen would get first crack anyhow, Piemur said, disgruntled.
It ought to be free choice, the way the dragons choose their riders, said Brolly.
Fire lizards arent quite the same as dragons, Brolly, said Piemur, glancing at Menolly for support. Look at Lord Groghe. What dragon would've picked him if it had had another choice?
The boys shushed him, glancing nervously about to see if anyone had overheard his indiscreet remark.
The Weyrs have control of the fire lizards any road, said Brolly. You can just bet the Weyrsre going to hand em out where theyll keep the Lord Holders and Craft Masters happy.
Menolly sighed for the truth of that surmise.
Yes, but you can't make a fire lizard stay with you if youre mean to him, said Piemur flatly. I heard that Lord Merons disappears for days.
Where do they go? asked Brolly.
As Menolly didnt know, she was just as glad that the eerie sound, which Domick had said was the Thread alarm, sounded, effectively ending the conversation.
That means Thread is directly over us, said Piemur, hunching his shoulders and pointing toward the ceiling. Look at that! And Brollys startled exclamation made everyone turn about.
On the mantel behind her were ranged all nine fire lizards; their eyes sparkling with rainbow reflections of intense agitation, their wings spread, talons unsheathed. They were hissing, retracting and extending their tongues as if licking imaginary Thread from the air.
Menolly half rose, glancing toward the round table. She saw Domick nodding permission to her as he, too, got to his feet. He was gesturing to someone at the journeymens tables.
The alarm chorus would be appropriate, Brudegan, he called as he crossed to the hearth, a wary eye on the fire lizards.
Menolly motioned to Beauty, but the little queen ignored her, rising to her haunches and starting to keen a piercing series of notes, up and down an almost inaudibly high octave. The others joined her.
For the sake of our ears, Menolly, can you get your creatures to sing with the chorus now? Brudegan, wheres your beat?
Feet began to stamp, one, two, three, four, and suddenly the fire lizards keen was covered by the mass chorus. Beauty fanned her wings in surprise, and Mimic backwinged himself off the mantel, only missing a drop to the floor by claws biting into the wood.
Drummer, beat, and piper, blow,
Harper, strike, and soldier, go
sang the massed voices. Menolly joined in, singing directly to the fire lizards. She was aware of Brudegan, then Sebell and Talmor coming to stand beside her, but facing the boys. Brudegan directed, cueing in the parts, the descant on the refrain. Above the male voices, pure and piercingly thrilling, rang the fire lizards tone, weaving their own harmonies about the melody.
The last triumphant note echoed through the corridors of the Harper Hall. And from the doorway to the outer hall, there came a sigh of pleasure. Menolly saw the kitchen drudges, an utterly entranced Camo among them, standing there, every face wreathed with smiles.
Id say that a rendition of Moretas Ride might be in order, if you think your friends would oblige us, Brudegan said, with a slight bow to Menolly and a gesture to take his place.
Beauty, as if she understood what had been said, gave a complacent chirp, blinking the first lids across her eyes so that those nearest laughed. That startled her, and she fanned her wings as if scolding them for impudence. That prompted more laughter, but Beauty was now watching Menolly.
Give the beat, Menolly, said Brudegan, and because his manner indicated that he expected her obedience, she raised her hands and sketched the time.
The chorus responded at the upstroke, and she experienced a curious sense of power as she realized that these voices were hers to direct. Beauty led the fire lizards in another dizzy climb of sound, but they sang the melody, octaves above the baritones who introduced the first stanza of the Ballad, to the muted humming of the other parts. The baritones, Menolly felt, were not really watching her: she signaled for more intensity because, after all, the Ballad told of a tragedy. The singers gave more depth to their part. Menolly had often led the evening sings at the Half-Circle Sea Hold, so conducting was not new to her. It was the quality of the singers, their responsiveness to her signals, that made as much difference, as chalk from cheese.
Once the baritones had finished telling of the dread sickness in the land, which had struck with incredible speed across the breath of Pern, the full chorus quietly introduced the refrain, of Moreta secluded with her queen, Orlith, who is about to clutch in Fort Weyr, while the healers from all holds and Weyrs try to isolate the form of the disease and find a cure. The tenors take up the narration, with increasing intensity, the basses and baritones emphasizing the plight of the land, herdbeasts left untended, wherries breaking into crops as holders, crafters, dragonfolk alike are consumed by the dread fever.
A bass sings the solo of Capiam, Masterhealer of Pern, who isolates the illness and suggests its cure. Those dragonriders who are still able to stay on their beasts, fly to the rain forests of Nabol and Ista, to find and deliver to Capiam the all-important seeds that contain the cure, some riders dying with the effort as they complete their task.
A dialogue between baritone, Capiam, and the soprano; Moreta was sung, Menolly was only vaguely cognizant, by Piemur. Excitement builds as Moreta, once Orlith has clutched, is the only healthy dragonrider at the Fort and one of the few immune to the disease. It is up to her to deliver the medicine. Moreta, pushing herself and her queen to the limits of their endurance, flies between from hold to hold, crafthall to cot, from Weyr to Weyr. The final verse, a dirge with keening descant, this time so appropriately rendered by the fire lizards that Menolly waved the humans silent, ended in the sorrowful farewell of a world to its heroines as Orlith, the dying Moreta on her back, seeks the oblivion of between.
Such a deep silence followed the soft final chord that shook off the spell of the song with difficulty.
I wonder if we could ever repeat that again, Brudegan said slowly, thoughtfully, after a further moment of almost unendurable silence. A sigh of release from the thrall of the music spread through the hall.
Its the fire lizards, said the very soft voice of the usually impudent Piemur.
Youre right, Piemur, Brudegan replied, considering the suggestion, and there was a murmur of assent from the others.
Menolly had taken a seat, her knees shaking and her insides gripped by a rhythmic shuddering. She took a sip of the klah remaining in her cup; cold or not, it helped.
Menolly, do you think theyd sing like that again? Brudegan asked, dropping to the bench beside her.
Menolly blinked at him, as much because she hadnt had time to recover from the extraordinary experience of directing a trained group as because he, as journeyman, was asking the advice of the newest arrival in the Harper Craft Hall.
They sang fine with me yesterday, sir, said Piemur. Then he giggled. Menolly told Master Shonagar that its hard to keep em quiet when you dont want em singing. Right, Menolly? Piemur chortled again, all his impudence revived. Thats what happened the other morning, sir, when you didnt know who was singing.
To Menollys relief, Brudegan laughed heartily, evidently reconciled. Menolly managed a shy and apologetic smile for that untoward incident, but the chorus leader was watching the fire lizards now. They were preening their wingtips or glancing about the room at all the people, oblivious to the sensation they had just caused.
Pretties sing pretty, said Camo, appearing beside Menolly and Brudegan, a pitcher of steaming klah in one hand. He poured some into each empty cup, and then Menolly noticed that the drink was being served throughout the hall.
You liked their singing, eh, Camo? asked Brudegan, taking a judicious sip from his mug. Sing higher than Piemur here, and hes got the best voice weve had in many a Turn. As if he didnt know it. Brudegan reached across the table to ruffle Piemurs hair.
Pretties sing again? asked Camo plaintively.
They can sing any time they like for all of me, Brudegan replied, nodding to Menolly. But right now, I want to get some practice done. Weve that big chorale work to polish properly before Lord Groghes entertainment. With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and tapped an empty klah pot for silence. Dont stop them if they feel like singing, Menolly, he added, inclining his head toward the fire lizards. Now, then, you lot. Well begin with the tenor solo, Fesnal, if you please And Brudegan pointed to one of the journeymen who rose to his feet.
Listening to the rehearsal was not quite the same involving experience as directing. Then, Menolly had felt herself to be an extension of the choral group. Now she found it objectively interesting to observe direction, and to think what she would do with the same passages. About the time she decided that he was an exceedingly clever director, she realized that shed been setting herself in comparison with a man in every way superior in experience and training.
Menolly almost laughed aloud. Yet, she reflected, this was what life should be in a Harper Hall: music, morning, noon, afternoon and evening. She couldnt have enough of it, and yet, she could now see the logic of afternoons spent on other chores. Her fingertips ached from the harp strings, and her scar felt hot and pulsed. She massaged her hand, but that was too painful. Shed left the jar of numbweed in the cot, which meant shed have to wait until after Threadfall to get easement. She wondered if the girls knew what went on in the Harper Hall during Threadfall. Hadnt Piemur said they were up at the Hold during Fall? She shrugged; she was far happier to be here.
Once more the eerie alarm cut through other sounds. Brudegan abruptly ended the practice, thanking his chorus members for their attention and hard work. Then he stood back politely as a tall older journeyman walked quietly to the fireplace, raising his hands unnecessarily for attention.
Everyone remembers his duties now? There was a murmur of assent. Good. As soon as the doors are open, join your sections. With luck and Fort Weyrs usual efficiency, well be back in the Hall by suppertime
Ive meatrolls for the outside crews, announced Silvina, standing up at the round table. Camo, take the tray and stand by the door!
A second weird hooting, and then the clang and ring of metal and a ponderous creaking. Menolly half wished that she were in a position to see the Hall doors working as light began to flood the outer hallway. A cheer went up, and the boys surged toward the entrance, some going across the tide to take meatrolls from Camos patiently held tray.
Then the dining hall shutters clanked back, the afternoon sunlight an assault on eyes accustomed to the softer illumination from glow baskets.
Here they come! Here come! rose the shout, and the flow toward the door became a scramble, despite the attempts of masters and journeymen to keep an orderly pace.
We can see as well from the windows, Menolly. Come on! Piemur tugged at her sleeve.
The fire lizards reacted to the excitement, streaking through the open windows. Menolly saw the spiral of dragons descending in wings to the ground beyond the Hall courtyard. Truly they made a magnificent sight. The sky seemed to be as clogged with dragons as just recently it must have been with Thread. The boys let out a cheer, and Menolly saw the dragonriders lifting their arms in response to the hurray! She might have lost her fear of Thread, of being caught out holdless, but she would never lose that lift of heart at the sight of the great dragons who protected all Pern from the ravages of Thread.
Menolly!
She whirled at the sound of her name and saw Silvina standing there, a slight frown creasing her wide forehead. For the first time since morning, Menolly wondered what she had done wrong now.
Menolly, has nothing been forwarded to you from Benden Weyr in the way of clothes? I know that Master Robinton dragged you out of there with scant time to assemble yourself
Menolly could say nothing, realizing that Dunca had complained about her tattered trousers to Silvina. The headwoman was giving her clothes a keen scrutiny.
Well, for once, and Silvinas admission was grudging, Dunca is right. Your clothes are worn to the woof. Cant have that. Youll give the Harper Craft a bad name, wandering about in rags, however attached to them you may be.
Silvina, I
Great shells, child, Im not angry with you! And Silvina took Menollys chin firmly in her hand and made her look eye to eye. Im furious with myself for not thinking! Not to mention giving that Dunca a chance to snipe at you! Only dont go repeating that, please, for Duncas useful to me in her own way. Not that you talk much anyhow. Havent heard you put two sentences together yet. There now! What have I said to distress you? You just come along with me. And Silvina took Menolly firmly by the elbow and marched her toward the complex of storage rooms at the back of the Harper Hall on the kitchen level.