Lady Adessa had certainly taken Hold here. He recalled the Hall from a previous visit with Lord Ashmichel, and at that time the chamber had been dark and dingy. What was the old saying about new spouses and brooms?
Robinton found a little tune dancing in his head, in competition with the one his fingers were playing. His left arm was not bothered by his playing; he had briefly worried that the muscles or the tendons might have been damaged by Giffien’s knife.
The next morning, after a good sleep in a wide and comfortable bed, Robinton felt well rested for the remainder of his journey. He only wished, as Jez gave him an experienced leg up to Big Black’s back, that he had been able to get more cooperation from Lord Kale. At least the Holder had agreed to setting up border patrols along the Nabolese border and erecting fire beacons on the heights.
“I doubt they will ever be used,” Kale had said in parting, leaving Robinton sighing as he turned the black’s head south and east to the main ford of the Red River.
On the way back, spouses and brooms did a stately dance in the MasterHarper’s mind as he took the instance and tried to make it musical. Melodies seemed to plague him at the most inauspicious moments, but he was grateful for the return of such spontaneity. He used it as a gauge to check his grasp on the essence of his responsibilities.
Nip returned to the Hall several weeks later, looking gaunt and weary.
“You’re staying until Master Oldive says you’re fit for it,” Robinton said, escorting Nip to the healer premises beyond the Harper Hall.
“It?” Nip said, grinning up at his MasterHarper with mischief as he tried to keep up with Robinton’s long stride.
“Whatever it is you’ll be up to next.” Robinton shortened his steps in deference to Nip’s exhaustion.
“Let me report first, Rob,” said Nip, trying to wriggle free.
“I won’t listen to a word until you are gone over, washed, and fed,” Robinton said firmly.
Nip knew when to give in to a superior.
Master Oldive commented on the number of bruises and scrapes, and the two swollen and empurpled toes on one foot.
“He must bounce,” the Master said with a sly grin after he had completed his examination. The spinal deformation which marred the Healer’s back and had brought him to the Hall in the first place seemed to fascinate Nip, who kept trying not to look at it. Long since, Oldive had become impervious to such observations.
“Sound, if contused, but no lasting harm that a good hot bath, a double portion of whatever Silvina has in the hearth pot and several days in bed will not cure.”
“Several days?” Nip would have jumped from the examining table but for the restraining hands of both healer and harper. “I wouldn’t mind a bath, I can tell you,” he said more meekly, rubbing dirt-encrusted fingers together. “And some decent food.”
So he was given both, and he probably did not notice that Oldive, who joined him and Robinton in Silvina’s little office, slipped something in his klah. He had finished his meal before the
drug took effect; he was just pushing back the final dish of sweet pudding when he abruptly sagged down to the table top, his face
just missing a splash of the pudding sauce that had spilled there.
“Good timing there, Oldive,” Robinton commented.
“Yes, rather good, if I say so myself.”
Silvina gave them each a jaundiced glance. “The pair of you!
You’re wretches, dyed-in-the-bone wretches.”
“Ever at your service, my pet,” Robinton said, giving her a flourish which ended as he took one side of the unconscious Nip while Oldive took the other, lifting the limp form off his bench. With Silvina opening doors ahead of them, they carried the runner up to the Harper’s quarters where he was carefully laid down on the bed in the spare room and covered, to sleep himself out.
“That was a rotten trick, Robinton,” Nip complained when he woke a day and a half later. Then his face dissolved into a grin which was singular enough to give him a totally different appearance.