Anne McCaffrey Pern 16 The Master Harper of Pern

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and poured out the numerous cups of clah he drank during the long wait.
Her mother had retired to her family home in South Boll three turns before and
Silvina, as dark-haired and energetic as her mother had been, was headwoman in
the Hall. Robinton liked her matter-of-fact attitude towards the duties and
the disasters of the Hall - and the fact that she had been quite willing to
bed him whenever he stopped there long enough to renew their friendship. She
had more sense than to mention any sadness in his eyes, though she knew the
memory of
Kasia had not dimmed in the ten turns since her death. Vina accepted him as
he was and made no demands, and gave him considerable relief and kindness. He
was grateful, and that seemed to be enough for her. She was as big-hearted as
her mother.
"The drums have stopped," she said suddenly, about to pour him yet another cup
of klah.
"So they have," he said, realizing that he could no longer feel the vibrations
through the stone walls of the Hall. He swallowed and she grinned at his
discomfort.
"You could have stayed above and kept count."
"What if--' He stopped at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. At least two
people were approaching.
Silvina reached out a hand and gripped his.
A grinning Ogolly and Jerint appeared, a sheaf of small square hides in hand.
"Master Robinton, would you be willing to assume the responsibility of the
Master of the Hall and Craft?" Ogolly asked formally, his tone belied by his
wide grin and happy eyes.
"I would be willing," Robinton said, though his throat had gone dry.
"It is the unanimous..." Jerint paused to be sure Robinton appreciated that
"... decision of all the Masters of this Craft that you accept this position
and all its honours, privileges, prerogatives and ... all that hard work!" He
stepped forward, gripping
Robinton's hand in his and shaking it hard. "I bless the Egg that it's you,
Rob!"
"Who else?" Ogolly demanded, taking his turn to pump the hand of the newly
appointed MasterHarper of the Craft. "Who else, dear boy? Who else? Merelan
would be so -' Ogolly's eyes teared up and his voice cracked, but he went on
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"- so very, very proud of you right now."
Robinton, gripping Ogolly's hand, felt his throat close in response to the
mention of his beloved mother. "She would, she would."
"She always said you would be Master," Silvina said. She threw her arms about
Robinton's neck to kiss him soundly. "Mother'll be so happy, Rob. So happy.
The day you were born, she said she knew you were destined for great things."
"Petiron helped take the count, Rob," Jerint put in, and there was a wicked
sparkle in his eyes.
"He's proud of you, too, Robinton ..." Ogolly said quite solemnly. "Really,
he is."
Robinton only nodded. Silvina, busy at one of the cupboards, produced glasses
and a wine-skin, which she held out to Robinton so that he could see the
label.
"Benden?" he exclaimed.
"Gennell ordered in a supply just for today!" she said. "I've kept it safe,"
she added, casting a reproving glare at Jerint, "so open this skin. There'll
be enough to get every last one of you legless tonight."
Robinton was still hung over the next morning when he entered the office of
the MasterHarper. He stopped when he saw there was someone waiting: Petiron.
His father had not been backward in toasting and drinking the health of the
new MasterHarper the previous night, a fact of which Robinton had taken wary
note.
"As one of your first duties as MasterHarper, Robinton, I wish you will assign
me to a post," his father said in a stiff and formal tone. "I think you will
do well in this office. I wish you the best, but I feel that my presence here
in the Hall might cause you embarrassment..."
"Really ... Father ..." Robinton mentally berated himself that the unused
title came out so awkwardly.
Petiron gave a little smile, as if that hesitation was proof enough of his
contention. "I think it would be easier for you to assume your
responsibilities without ... feeling ... well, that I might not agree."
Robinton caught his father's eyes and slowly nodded. "That is considerate,
most considerate, but hardly necessary ...
"I insist," Petiron said, raising his chin in a stubborn pose his son knew all
too well.
"There aren't any major Holds ..."
"I would prefer a minor one--"
"You are a Master and as such deserve--"
"What I ask for."
"But you have that fine new apprentice - Domick? I thought you were very
pleased with his progress."
Petiron gave a snort and dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand. "That
young man thinks he knows everything. You can have the pleasure of dealing
with him."
Robinton managed not to grin. He had heard about the fine rows his father had
with Domick, arguing chromatic variations, and he rather thought Petiron might
have met his match.
"I just thought that ..." he tried again.
"Well, you thought wrong. What contracts are available?" And [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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