Then there was a morning when Kubisa brought a bloody-nosed, sobbing Robinton back to his mother for aid and comfort.
“Oh, Robie,” Merelan said, folding her weeping child in her arms
while Kubisa busied herself getting a wet cloth to clean his face.
“They wuz hurting’ him,” Robie sobbed.
“Hurting who?” Merelan asked, more of Kubisa than her son.
“I’ll say this for Robie, he may be young and small, but he knows who needs his protection.”
“Who needs it?” his mother asked, carefully mopping away the blood.
“The watchwher,” Kubisa said.
Merelan paused, surprised and beginning to feel more pride than concern. The apprentices were not above sticking bright glows into the Harper Hall watchwher’s lair to make the light-sensitive creature cry. Or throwing him noxious things, knowing the creature would eat just about anything that came within the range of its
chair. Rob would always run and tell an adult if he saw such antics.
“Were they being mean to the poor beast again?”
Sniffing, he nodded his head up and down. “I made “em stop, but one of “em busted me one.”
“So I see,” his mother murmured.
“Some of the beastholder children who really ought to know better,” Kubisa said. “I’ll have a word with their parents, now that I’ve delivered Rob to you.” She patted his head. “I’d pick on someone my size, next time. Or better still, have your father teach you how to duck.”
Grinning, she left the apartment.
“I can teach you how to duck, my brave lad,” Merelan said, hugging him again, knowing that such training did not fall in Petiron’s scope of paternal duties. “I used to be able to beat some of my big brothers and cousins when I got going.”
“You?” Robie’s eyes widened at the very notion of his mother beating anything, much less big brothers and cousins.
So she gave him his first lesson in hand-to-hand combat, and showed him how best to head-butt an assailant. “It keeps you from having bloody noses, too, if you use your head in a right.”
That daily respite of his hours with Kubisa gave Merelan a rest from constantly being alert to intervene between her son and his father. The subterfuge she had to practise was wearing on her nerves. However, she – and Kubisa – could at least honestly report Robie’s excellent conduct and progress in school.
“And you’re learning all the Teaching Ballads?” Petiron asked absently.
“Yes, and I can prove it.” Robinton wanted so desperately to please his father, but he never seemed able to – however hard he tried to be good, obedient, courteous and, most of all, quiet.
Somewhat surprised at his son’s tone of voice, Petiron leaned back in his chair. With an indolent and supercilious wave of his hand, he indicated that Robie should perform.
Merelan held her breath, unable to think of a single thing to say to postpone Petiron’s discovery of his son’s talent.
Robie took a breath – properly, not gasping air into his lungs as so many novices did – and then launched into a note-perfect rendition of the Duty Song. Petiron did look a trifle surprised at the firmness of tone the boy projected in his treble voice. Petiron did beat the time with one finger on the armrest, but he listened with a much less disdainful expression on his face.
“That was well done, Robinton,” he said. “Now don’t think that learning one song is all you have to do. There’s a significant number, even for children, to be learned, word and note perfect.
Continue as you have begun.”
Robinton beamed with pleasure, turning to his mother to see if she also agreed.
Merelan could barely keep from sobbing with relief as she came forward and tousled his hair. “You have done very well indeed, my love. I’m proud of you, too. Just as your father is.” She turned to Petiron for his reassurance, but he had already turned back to the apprentice scores he was correcting, oblivious to son and spouse.
Merelan had to clench her hands to her sides to keep from roaring at him for such a curt dismissal. There was so much more Petiron could have said. He could have mentioned that the boy was on pitch throughout, with good breath support, and that his voice was actually very good. But she controlled her anger and took Robie – who couldn’t quite understand why he hadn’t pleased his father more – by the hand.