Petiron visibly swallowed and blinked furiously.
“Do you swim?” Segoina asked blandly.
“Yes, actually I do. We had the Telgar River to learn in.”
“It’s much easier to swim in the sea than a river. More buoyancy.” Segoina turned away before she could catch the apprehensive expression on Petiron’s face.
Merelan controlled her amusement. If he hadn’t been able to answer positively, it was obvious he feared that she would have immediately appointed herself his instructor. He swam well enough, and the mid-summer races were months away. By then they would be safely back at Harper Hall. She sighed, for she would have liked to stay for the Full Summer Gather when the entire peninsula gathered for races, both in the water and on the water as everyone tested his or her skills at swimming and sailing.
It was as well, Merelan thought as they continued on to their quarters, that he was over the age when he would have been required to make the high dive. That was also a feature of the High Summer Gather. Maybe she could talk him into it …
He’d learned so much about himself, as well as about how the ordinary people lived. As a lad at Telgar, he had been more inclined to scholarship, which was why he had been sponsored to go to the Harper Hall in the first place. So he had had little chance, as an adult, to expand his horizons – until now. And he’d never looked fitter, or more handsome. Hair down to his shoulders, skin tanned, he was more secure on the back of a runner, could walk a good day’s journey, and had done more harpering than his duties at the Hall had ever required of him. If only he could be more in harmony with his own child …
When Robinton began to talk, she told herself, when he needed to learn things a father should teach his son, then the affection and pride would develop. At least Petiron had shown himself nervous about his child’s safety with the swimming business.
That much was obvious when Petiron accompanied spouse and son to the cove beach the next First Day. By then Robinton was paddling happily, not the least bit concerned if he fell under the water, though a white-faced Petiron snatched the sun-browned little body up into his arms, startling Robinton. Wide-eyed with surprise, the boy struggled to be released back into the water which was such fun, the waves lapping bubblingly around his ankles and pushing treasures of flotsam for him to examine. He even gave the next smooth pebble, a very pretty red one with white intrusions making a pattern, to his father to be admired. And Petiron did so, without any prompting from merelan.
When it was handed back to him, Robinton toddled off to place it with the growing pile of unusual objects he had retrieved. Then he was off in another direction, running as fast as his legs would take him to see what his cousins had discovered among the seaweed they had just hauled up on to the beach.
“Sit, love,” Merelan said softly, patting the woven reed mat beside her where the sunshade cast a shadow. “He isn’t far from help, should it be needed.”
“Isn’t he younger than the lad of Naylor’s?” he asked, with the
first sign of paternal comparison he had ever exhibited.
“By two months,” Merelan said nonchalantly.
“He’s a full hand taller,” said Petiron, his tone almost smug.
“He’ll be a tall man when he gets his growth,” she said. “You’re not short, nor were my parents. How were you in height against those brothers of yours?”
“I suspect Forist will be taller but the other three won’t make his height,” said Petiron, who had never liked his brothers at all.
“Nor yours.” Idly she brushed sand out of his heavy dark brown hair, flicking it off his shoulder and giving herself the excuse to touch his warm, smooth skin. She liked his back. He had muscled up a great deal. Not that he would ever carry much flesh: he was too intense to put on weight. But he looked better than he ever had, and she loved him more than ever.