The cot, while somewhat primitive, was larger inside than it looked from outside. The main room was obviously where most interior work was done, but it was separated into sections: one for the women’s tasks, another for the men’s, with an eating area and well-made chairs set near the good-sized fireplace. There were rooms off each end, and off the long wall that the hearth dominated; ladders led to lofts on both sides. If he were to be accommodated above, Robinton decided, he’d best remember to keep his head down.
But he was escorted to one of the side rooms, which contained one large bed. The son cleared clothing from the two stools and one chest, where he gestured for Robinton to place his bags.
“Who am I displacing?” the journeyman asked.
“My father and mother.” The son gave a chuckle. “The honour is theirs, and ours, to have a harper as guest. I’m Valrol. My brother is Torlin. My mother’s name is Saday; the girl who took the wherry is my spouse, Pessia, from Tillek FishCraftHall. My sister is Klada.
She would like to spouse Sucho’s son, but my parents won’t let her because of the wall. But, if she spouses him, then Pessia and I will have a room to ourselves.”
alrol spoke in a low voice and quickly, trying to give Robinton all the necessary information before an extended absence brought his father to see what was delaying them.
I’ll show you where the bath is,” he said, and Robinton murmured thanks, rummaging in his pack for his towel, soap and a clean shirt.
The bath was actually heated by some connection with the hearth, so it was not the cold wash that he could have expected. He did not loll in the warm water, though he would have liked to soak the aches of travel out of his bones, but he was grateful for the luxury.
A trestle table had been set up, but Robinton had the impression that the family usually ate sitting in the chairs by the fireplace.
Pessia was putting the last of the wherry sections into the bubbling cauldron swung over the fire. Saday was busy tearing greens into a beautifully crafted wooden bowl, while Klada – still in shock from being in the presence of a stranger, and a harper at that – was trying to put cups on a tray without dropping them. With an exclamation at her awkwardness, Torlin took the tray from her and, grabbing up a wine-skin, gestured for the harper to take a seat at the table.
Foxy though the wine was, Robinton was grateful for the cup and gave a proper harper toast to his hosts, smiling at Saday when she shyly placed the salad bowl on the table.
“That’s beautifully done, Holder Saday,” he said pleasantly, rubbing a finger along the rim. “Local wood?”
She nodded, managing a smile, and then looked anywhere but at him, taking a long drink from her cup.
By the time dinner was served and eaten, she had grown sufficiently accustomed to him that she suddenly blurted out that she had turned the bowl herself.
“Do you send your wares to the Gathers?” he asked. Many people made a few extra marks from their home-made things.
She shook her head vigorously. “Not good enough.”
“I think so,” he said kindly, “and I’ve worked in wood. I make my own instruments.”
She bent her head, and that was the last he heard from her in conversation. His reassurance sat well with Tortole, though, who was far more amiable as the meal progressed. The men dominated the talk, asking questions and listening eagerly to Robinton’s answers; their original rancour over his solution to the wall problem was easing. Pessia, having been reared in a large community, felt comfortable enough to break in several times with cogent queries about the rest of Pern, and Valrol beamed proudly at her.
Seen in a less threatening posture, Valrol was a good-looking young man. Robinton noticed the fond glances exchanged by the two and understood why she had taken him, despite the hold’s isolation. Klada was attractive too, or would be if she looked up at anyone.