“We’ll just see,” she said in a firm, loud voice, “what Lorra might have as a reward for knowing all the verses and the tempo perfectly !”
When she slammed the door behind her, Petiron glanced over his shoulder, then went back to marking a very poorly executed apprentice lesson.
“Really, I wanted to …” Merelan’s fists were clenched as she paced about the small floor space in Lorra’s little office-sitting room off the main Hall kitchens. “I wanted to kick him.”
“Really?” Lorra recoiled slightly from her friend’s vehemence.
She had taken one look at Merelan’s expression when she stalked into the kitchen and immediately assigned the two scullery girls to feed Robinton some of the freshly baked bubbly pies while she took the MasterSinger into her office. Lorra knew that Betrice was away from the Hall on a confinement, and she was rather complimented that Merelan would turn to her at all.
“I mean, I’ve heard third-year apprentices who couldn’t sing the Duty Song as well,” Merelan said, venting both anger and frustration as she pounded around the room. “Not a note wrong, not even a poorly timed breath. Why, the performance was excellent.”
“Petiron said that much, didn’t he?” Lorra asked, hoping to soothe the singer.
“Yes, but there was so much more he could have said. Robie sang splendidly, better than a lad of fourteen, and he’s barely four Turns! And Petiron acted as if it was no more than he expected of his son.”
“Ah!” Lorra pointed a finger at her distraught visitor. “You’ve said it. He expected such excellence from his own son! If Robie hadn’t been as accurate and correct as Petiron expected, then you’d’ve heard all about it, now wouldn’t you?”
Merelan paused in her pacing and stared at the headwoman.
Then, with a rueful laugh, her anger dissipating, she sat herself down in the other comfortable chair, chuckling.
“You’re right, of course. If Robie hadn’t been note-perfect, he would have had to repeat the Duty Song until he was. Oh, by the first Egg, what am I to do? The boy so much needs, and wants, his father’s approval. He’s never, never going to get it.”
“Shouldn’t wonder, since Petiron’s shyer about giving credit where it’s due than any other harper in the Hall. But,” Lorra pointed out, “now you don’t have to fret so much about when Petiron finds
out his own son is lengths ahead of him musically.”
Merelan shot Lorra a stunned look.
“Oh, c’mon, Merelan,” Lorra returned, “you know it yourself.
The boy’s already more of a musician than apprentices three times his age. I shouldn’t wonder but that he makes journeyman by the time he’s sixteen.”
“A journeyman has to be eighteen …” Merelan began in a feeble denial.
“Well, by the time he’s sixteen, we’ll see. Meanwhile, I’d say that after today, you won’t have to watch Robie around his father so carefully. It’ll be easier for Rob, too. It’s obvious to me that Petiron won’t notice much until Robie’s voice breaks and he realizes his “infant” son is nearly a man.”
“Really?” Merelan asked pensively, considering Lorra’s facetious words seriously.
“Wouldn’t surprise me in the least,” Lorra replied with a flick of her fingers. “Now you stop fretting so much. The strain’s coming out in your voice – I’m sorry to mention that to you, but I don’t think anyone else would. Except Petiron, and it’s as well he hasn’t noticed. Or am I overstepping the line?”
“No, you’re not, Lorra. Never.” Merelan hastily laid her hand on Lorra’s plump forearm. “I just didn’t think anyone would notice.
I’ve just been vocalizing and tried to go easy on my voice …”
“Not easy when you’re in between a rock and a hard place with those two men in your life.” Lorra leaned forward and patted Merelan’s nervously drumming fingers. “I’m not a healer, but a glass of wine would not go amiss right now. For both of us.” She rose and went to the cabinet, taking down a wine-skin and two glasses. Merelan waved away the courtesy, but Lorra insisted.
“There’re a lot of things Petiron won’t notice, including wine on your breath, if that’s what you’re worried about. And right now you need to relax, which is what my herbal cordial will help you do.” Merelan glanced out of the office at Robie, who was making the girls giggle, his round, happy face smeared with deep purplish berry juice. She settled back, accepting the glass.