“That means “favourable”, doesn’t it?” She chuckled. “It does …” “Harpers use that word a lot.”
“Harpering is not just knowing the words and melody to a lot of songs …
“And not just knowing when to sing them, either.” He finished the saying for her.
She tilted his face up to her and regarded him with a very pensive expression on her face. “I think, my darling son, that you are going to make a splendid harper.”
“I plan to,” he said, grinning impishly at her.
She gave him a quick hug and then asked to see the lessons she had set him in contrapuntal theory.
A few evenings later, Merelan asked Maizella to sing a new song after dinner. At first the conversations didn’t abate, but gradually a respectful silence rewarded the noticeable improvement in both tone and volume. Maizella sat down flushed with achievement and didn’t notice that the applause was more from relief than approval.
Then Merelan had her and Robinton sing the duet they had practised in class.
By now, Merelan had identified other good voices in the Hold, and gradually the evenings featured four-part harmonies and the addition of several more instruments, as well as more new songs and a far larger chorus.
Then, about six seven-days after their arrival at Benden, Falloner told Robinton that the Weyrleaders were coming to the Hold with some of the wingleaders and their women.
“They come often?” Robinton asked, awed. Would his mother ask him to sing for the dragonriders? There would surely be music after dinner.
Falloner shrugged. “Often enough. S’loner and Lord Maidir get along really well because Benden believes in the dragonriders and Carola, who’s Weyrwoman, is the daughter of Hayara’s oldest sister. So they’re kin.”
“S’loner?” Robinton couldn’t help gawking at his friend. He knew how weyrfolk named children – generally using some part of the father’s as well as the mother’s name. “Your father’s the Weyrleader?”
“Yeah.” Falloner gave an indifferent shrug. Then he grinned at Robinton’s startled expression. “That’s one reason why I’m sure to Impress a bronze, and why I’ll get the chance to stand on the Hatching Ground as long as there’re eggs clutched. There’ve been a lot of Weyrleaders in my lineage.” He straightened up proudly.
“And I’m here because I’m supposed to learn more than I’d get taught at the Weyr since we don’t have a Hall-trained harper. If I’m going to lead the Weyr in the next Fall, I’ve got to know more than the average bronze rider, haven’t I?”
“I guess you have,” Robinton murmured, still trying to cope with the status of his friend.
“Ah, don’t go looking at me like that, will ya, Robie?” And Falloner gave his shoulder a friendly buffet.
When they were in their own quarters, Robinton had to tell his mother.
“I knew that, dear, and it’s one reason I encourage your friendship with him. Falloner’s a good-hearted lad and intelligent enough to want to learn. I feel that it’s very important for you to have this chance to get to know something about how the Weyr operates.
Especially as we only have the one now.” She looked off into the middle distance for a long moment.
“Isn’t that what the Question Song is about?”
“I didn’t know you knew about that one,” she said almost sharply, staring at him. “How did you come across it?”
“Oh, when I was copying out some of the worm-eaten music in the Archives. Master Ogolly says I write with a good, neat hand, you know.” He preened slightly.
“Yes, I do know, love.” She finger-stroked a parting into his thick dark hair. “Do you know the music?”
“Of course I do, Mother,” he said, mildly indignant. She, of all people, should know that he memorized music after one hearing or one reading.
“Yes, you would, wouldn’t you, dear.” She gave a final pat to his hair. “Well, run over it in your mind. It might be suitable for tonight. And a treble voice would make it more poignant, I think.
Yes, rehearse it, Robie.”
Falloner was not at the head table as Robinton had thought he might be, since S’loner was his father. Carola was not his mother and, as Falloner took his usual place next to Robinton, he muttered