“Most of the time,” Jesken put in, his mouth so full that he had to push the gravy back in with one finger, which he then licked.
“Real good tonight. Must have been younger than we usually get.”
“We’ve got Robinton at the table, after all,” Falloner said, grinning.
“You staying up here a while?” Sellel asked, glancing from Falloner to Robinton.
“Tonight for sure,” Falloner said. He nudged Robinton in the ribs. “They’ll have you singing “til dawn, you know.”
“Then you’ll be singing right with us,” Robinton said, and put another forkful of the tender roast into his mouth. He sort of regretted that he’d have to eat lightly, but he couldn’t sing properly with a full gut.
Sing he did, with Falloner, with his mother and as a soloist. First, of course, they did the Duty Song, in which the entire audience
joined, singing both chorus and verses once Robinton had sung the opening verse. There was applause for him through the first chorus.
He rather liked that and took it for the compliment it was.
Then his mother mouthed “Question Song’ at him. It was not next on the programme, but as she was conducting the concert he sang it – to a hushed and very thoughtful audience. S’loner was beaming with delight at the weyrfolk’s surprise and attention.
Robinton and Falloner did several of his songs, without saying who the composer was, and these were well received. The Weyr might not have a highly trained harper, but there were a lot of good voices and folk who picked up quickly on tune and chorus. This was a totally different audience from any Robinton had ever sung for – and quite possibly the best. His mother was responding to it, too, because her voice was joyous again, even in the more nostalgic melodies. They had established an unusual rapport with this audience, a new depth of “listening’.
We listen, too, you know, harper boy, a voice said in his head, almost throwing him off his harmony.
That explained much to Robinton, but he didn’t have time then to think it all through: he had to keep singing so as not to disappoint.
There were calls for old favourites from the gathering, and it wasn’t until Robinton’s voice cracked with fatigue that Merelan called a reluctant halt to the evening’s entertainment.
“We’ve imposed outrageously on you, Merelan and young Robinton,” S’loner said, rising to his feet and scissoring his hands at the requests still being shouted from the tables. “It’s late, even for a Weyr gathering, and you’ve been more than generous with your time and repertoire.”
“The Harper Hall’s tithe to the Weyr,” she replied, dipping her knees in her elegant bow and spreading her left hand to include the entire audience. “It is a pleasure to sing for you.”
“Our dragons have enjoyed it almost as much as we have,” the Weyrleader said, and looked from her to Robinton, winking.
Suddenly the elation which had sustained him through a very long performance seemed to drain out of Robinton, and he wavered on his feet.
“Falloner, take young Robinton to bed,” S’loner said arbitrarily, pointing towards the dormitory area.
“I’m near as tired as he is,” Falloner said and, throwing an arm about his friend’s shoulders, he led him off.
“As for you, my dear Merelan, Carola will escort you to our guest weyr, one that should be occupied by a queen dragon. Well, soon enough, soon enough …” S’loner was saying as the two boys left for the Lower Cavern.
The next day, S’loner himself took them back to Benden Hold, Robinton and his mother quite conscious of the honour even if they were both still fatigued by their exertions. Even Falloner was not his usual self, silent in his father’s presence.
“I shall sleep all week,” Merelan said as they waved farewell to the bronze rider and Chendith. “But what a splendid evening, Robie.
That was a glorious performance. I know I’ve never sung so well before, and you were fabulous. I only hope that you keep that treble a while longer.” She sighed and ruffled his hair as they climbed the steps into the Hold. “And have a mature voice too, of course.”