Well come, Master Harper, we all look forward to your entertaining songs, Lord Larad said, according the Harper a deep bow.
We shall play in tune with the times and the occasion, Lord Larad, Robinton replied, grinning broadly at such bluntness. They both heard the ripple of music as the young harpers began to move among the guests.
The whoosh of great wings drew their eyes upward. The dragons flew across the sun, briefly shadowing the Court. All talk died for a moment, then renewed more loudly than before.
Robinton moved on, greeting Lord Larads first lady and true love, for he had no others besides her. The young Lord of Telgar, at least, was constant.
Lord Asgenar, my felicitations. Lady Famira, may I wish you all happiness, to have and to hold.
The girl blushed prettily, glancing shyly at Lord Asgenar. Her eyes were as blue as her half-brothers. She had her hand on Asgenars arm, having known him a long time. Larad and Asgenar had been fosterlings at the Hold of Lord Corman of Keroon, though Larad had been elected earlier to his dignities than Asgenar. Thered be no problem with this wedding, although it remained for the Conclave of Lord Holders to ratify it, since the progeny of this marriage might one day Hold either Telgar or Lemos. A man cast his seed widely if he was a Lord Holder. He had many sons in the hope that one male of his Blood would train up strong enough to be acceptable to the Conclave, when the question of Succession arose. Not that that ancient custom was as scrupulously observed as it had been. The wise Lord extended fosterage to the Blooded children of other Lords, to gain support in Conclave as well as to insure his own progeny being well-fostered.
Robinton stepped quickly among the guests. To hear what he could, enter a conversation with an amusing story, climax another with a deft phrase. He helped himself to a handful of finger-sized meatrolls from the long tables set up near the kitchen entrance. He scooped up a mug of cider. Theyd not sit to table until sunset. First the Lord Holders and the major Small Holders would have their Conclave. (He hoped that Chad had found a way for him to attend that meeting for hed a notion that the discussion wouldnt be limited to the Bloodlines of Telgar and Lemos Holds.)
So he wandered, every perception tuned high, every nuance, shrug, laugh, gesture and frown weighed and measured. He observed the groupings, who shifted between the lines of region, craft and rank. When he realized he had seen nothing of the Mastersmith Fandarel or his Craft-second, Terry, or, indeed, any smithcrafters, he began to wonder. Had Fandarels distance-writer been installed? He took a look down the side of the Hold and could see no posts as had been described to him. He chewed thoughtfully at a rough spot on his lower lip.
Voices and laughter seemed to have a strident edge. From his detached vantage point, he surveyed the Great Court, now so full it appeared as a moving carpet of solid bodies, here and there a tight knot of bent heads. As if as if everyone were determined to enjoy themselves, frantically grasping pleasure …
Dragons trumpeted from the heights. Robinton grinned. They spoke in thirds, he noticed. Now, if a man could direct them what an accompaniment to his Ballad.
Good Masterharper, have you seen Flar or Fandarel? Lytol had come up to him, the young Lord Jaxom at his elbow.
Not yet.
Lytol frowned, suggested pointedly that Jaxom look for the young Bloods of Telgar Hold and drew Robinton further from the nearest guests.
How do you think the Lords will react to Lord Meron of Nabol?
React to Meron? Robinton snorted derisively. By ignoring him, of course. Not that his opinion would influence the Conclave …
I dont mean that. I mean his possession of a fire lizard Lytol broke off as the Harper stared at him. You didnt hear? The messenger went through Ruatha Hold yesterday, bound for Fort Hold and your Crafthall.
He missed me or was he free with his news?