Through her tears his mother shot him an exultant look and a weak smile before she had to wipe her cheeks again. Neither of them looked at Petiron.
Installed in the final chair, Robinton was still shaking so badly that he could barely accept the congratulations of the other new journeymen. He noticed that they all had rank knots on their shoulders, and then he felt Shonagar slip one up his arm and to his shoulder.
“Journeyman Robinton will go to Master Lobira at High Reaches, where it’s hoped this sensible fellow will keep Master Lobira out of more trouble,” Gennell announced, and then called for glasses and wine for the new journeymen. Sometime in that interval Petiron slipped from the room, but Merelan did not. And that was as it should be, Robinton thought.
CHAPTER NINE
And so Robinton headed off to his first official assignment with five full packs, even though he had stored some childish mementoes in the Hall’s vast cellars. His mother insisted that he drum a request to F’lon.
“It won’t hurt your reputation at all for you to arrive on drug-onback,” she said firmly.
“It’s showing off, Mother,” he insisted.
“Others have requested conveyance,” she went on, helping him pack up everything in his little room.
Whenever he returned to the Hall, he would bunk in the journeymen’s quarters. He hadn’t so much as laid eyes on Petiron since the night before, but that didn’t surprise him. He was now separated from his father, both as parent and teacher. His relief was intense, his concern for his mother immense. She seemed so frail, and her hands trembled slightly as she wrapped his pipes and put them in one of the packs. Well, this parting was hard on them both.
“You’d need three pack animals to carry all this junk,” she said, sniffing. But she gave him a big smile when he bent to see if she was crying. “Oh, I shall miss you, my dear son.” She put both hands on his arms and looked up at him with misted eyes. “I shall miss you most frightfully, but I am also so very glad that you’ve been promoted out of your father’s way.” “What – I mean, did he say … anything?”
“No.” She gave a little laugh, turning back to stuff the last few things away. “He hasn’t even spoken to me. And that’s a sign of his total rejection of your making journeyman.” She shrugged. “He’ll get over it, though I don’t think he’ll ever forgive Gennell for doing it while he was out of the Hall.”
“Shards! I hadn’t thought of that!” Robinton cringed at the thought of Master Gennell plagued by his father’s dislike.
“Now, now, Robie, Gennell’s well able to cope with your father’s foibles. As I am. He’ll simmer a while, and then go on and write it out in more music for me to sing.”
Robinton clutched his mother’s arm and made her look up at him. “You will be careful, won’t you, Mother? And not give too much to his music?”
She patted his cheek lovingly. I’ll be good, and rest. How can I not? With Ginia, Betrice and Lorra all at me – and your father. I didn’t mean to scare him, but I think I have. He’ll be much more careful of me now. He does love me, you know, most possessively.
That’s what all this has been about.”
Robinton nodded and then embraced his mother, feeling her thin bones and trying not to use his young strength to bruise her. But he wanted to hold her as tightly as possible, for he was fearful he might never see her again.
“Oh, Robie,” she said teasingly. “I’m much better. Don’t fret. You know things will be easier … now …” she added apologetically. “I shall write or drum if I don’t hear from you, young man. You hear me?”
“Indeed I do, MasterSinger. They’ve quite a good network of runners at High Reaches.”
“They’d have to,” she said with a patronizing sniff. “Living back of beyond like that.”
The unmistakable trumpeting of a dragon reverberated through the courtyard. “I believe your transport has arrived,” she said, smiling, though her chin seemed to quiver.