The brother who had spoken gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head and then looked away. The other two managed not to grin, but it didn’t escape anyone that they had probably tried to get their father to school his daughter’s behaviour.
“What did happen that made her send such a message?” Halibran asked.
Gennell opened his mouth, but it was Petiron who stepped forward and answered.
“She is musically almost illiterate, Holder Halibran,” he said in a flat and firm voice, “although I know Harper Maxilant to be a competent musician.”
“Maxilant did suggest that the Hall might succeed where he was failing,” Halibran said, raising both gloved hands in helplessness, his answer directed more to Gennell than to Petiron. “I should not
have sent you our problem.” He turned back to Petiron. “And?” “When she repeatedly refused to learn a simple score …”
No one of the Harper Hall group so much as batted an eye at Petiron’s remark.
“… and started to rant in an hysterical fashion, I slapped her.
Once.” And Petiron put up one finger in emphasis.
Everyone on the steps nodded.
“We all heard the entire argument,” Master Gennell said, pointing to the studio windows. “And the single slap.”
“She’d need more than one,” a brother said.
“We shall take her off your hands,” her father said in an almost meek tone, though it was obvious that he was probably not one whir less proud than his daughter.
“Nonsense,” Master Gennell said, just as Petiron stepped forward to protest. “With your permission, we shall continue to discipline her – firmly – until she realizes that such behaviour gets her nowhere in either her relationships with others or in learning the lessons you asked us to teach her.”
Halibran was astonished; the brothers muttered among one another.
“That is too fine a voice to be misused,” Master Gennell said, glancing up in the direction of the outraged cries. Strips of clothing flapped out of the window and drifted to the ground. “Or abused.
We have disciplined recalcitrant students before now. She may be…” and Master Gennell paused significantly, “unusually obdurate, but give me leave to doubt she is beyond redemption.”
“I’d say she is,” one brother murmured, and received a buffet on his leg from his glaring father.
“Give us until the Spring Equinox, Holder Halibran, and you will be pleased with the change.”
“How do you propose to achieve that?” the holder asked, tucking his gloved thumbs into his thick riding belt and regarding not only Gennell but the others on the top step.
“If you would make it … exceedingly … plain to her,” Gennell said, “that such antics cut no ice with you, that you will no longer condone her behaviour or rescue her from its consequences, she will soon capitulate.”
Halibran considered as he removed his gloves, stowed them in the saddle bag and flexed his fingers. “If she does, it will be the first time in her life,” he said, “but it had better come now.” He opened and closed his fists.
The expression of profound satisfaction was mirrored by all three brothers and, indeed, the other six men of the party.
i’ll lead the way,” Gennell said affably and, as Betrice and Ginia fell into step with Holder Halibran, they disappeared into the Hall.
“Is that the girl you said had a superb voice, Petiron?” Grogellan asked, moving up to the steps from where he and his men had been a witness to the interview.
The oldest brother, recognizing that this was the Lord of Fort Hold, respectfully dismounted and gestured for the others to do so, inclining his upper body politely to one of higher rank. Just then Halanna’s voice rasped to an even higher note, almost a wail, and Petiron winced.
“If she keeps on forcing the upper register like that,” Washell remarked to no one in particular, “she may end up soprano instead of alto… if she’s any voice left at all.”
“Hmmm,” was Grogellan’s reply, as he turned his head up to the
window. “She certainly shouldn’t be allowed to carry on like that.”