Gennell waggled a finger at him. “It’s more than most non-weyrfolk ever have.”
“That’s true enough.”
Gennell smiled briefly. “Nip reports that of all the harpers,
you’re one that even the Hall’s worst critics will accept.”
“Except in the High Reaches.”
“Fax will overstep himself. That sort of man always does.
There’ve been others like him before; there will be more like him in the future. When we live by the Charter, everyone prospers.
When it is abrogated, the whole continent suffers.”
Robinton nodded in complete agreement, though the prospect of trying to ensure that the Charter was obeyed was daunting.
Especially in the face of Fax’s active aggression.
“So, Master Robinton, I have named you my choice of successor.”
Robinton demurred, muttering about his youth and the fact that there were plenty of men who would be more logical choices.
“None of them wants the job,” Gennell said with grim humour.
“Minnarden strongly urged me to consider you, as did Evarel, and
certainly I’ve had support from all the resident Masters.” “Including … Petiron?” Robinton asked, grinning.
“Oddly enough, yes. Oh, I doubt he would have suggested you, but he did not oppose the selection.”
That did surprise Robinton.
“I admit that I got the position more by default than ambition,” Gennell said with a hearty chuckle. “I have served the Hall to the best of my ability …” Robinton concurred: Gennell was exceedingly popular as MasterHarper. The old Master went on: “I shouldn’t care to take on the responsibilities of dealing with Fax, much less Thread.”
“You’re too kind,” Robinton murmured ironically.
“I’ve had you marked as my successor from the moment I saw you talking to the dragons. Do you remember that day?”
Robinton nodded; that had been one of the high points of his childhood. Once F’lon had mentioned that dragons were whimsical about talking to non-weyrfolk. Sometimes they would. More often they would not. F’lon had added with one of his mischievous smiles, “The dragons do like you, Rob.” But Robinton had thought
that was a secret between himself, the dragons and their riders.
“I didn’t realize that anyone was watching.”
Gennell grinned. “I’ve watched you from the moment your mother told me you were piping variations on a theme.”
“Have I ever thanked you, Gennell, for all you’ve done for me?” There was no irony in Robinton’s voice now.
“Pssst.” Gennell dismissed the matter with a flick of his fingers.
“I was your MasterHarper then, as I am now. Be a good Master to all within this Hall and I am doubly repaid. Do not let a tyrant like Fax still the voices of any more harpers.”
To that Robinton swore purpose and loyalty.
“Did you hear the drum message this morning?” Gennell asked in a complete change of subject.
“Yes.” Robinton smiled. “A new baby at Ruatha Hold. A girl, small but healthy.”
Two days later, both Robinton and Gennell were called to Fort Hold. Lord Grogellan had refused the advice of MasterHealer Ginia, her very capable young journeyman Oldive, and the Hold’s healer. He would not allow them to attempt surgery.
“Talk some sense into him, can you, Gennell?” Ginia said, her face red with frustration. “I’ve done this operation – so has Oldive – and it takes but minutes. If we can’t remove the inflamed appendix, he will die from a poisoning of his system.”
“You can’t cut into him,” Lady Winalia said, weeping. “You can’t. That’s barbaric.”
Ginia shook her head. “It is not. It’s as simple as removing infected tonsils from a throat, and you permitted me to do that for your children.”
“Lord Grogellan will not have his body violated, mutilated …” Lady Winalia shuddered with repugnance, her expression stubborn.
“His person cannot be carved like an animal!”
“Mother, if it’s a question of his life …” said Groghe, trying to reason with his parent. “I saw it done at Tillek, didn’t I, Rob?”
Robinton nodded. “Clostan performed it on a seaman taken with terrible belly pain. He was back on his ship the next week.”
Lady Winalia kept shaking her head, her lips pressed together.
“We will not permit it,” she repeated, pressing her handkerchief to her lips as she opened the door to her spouse’s room. Grogellan’s moans could be heard. “Oh, he must be in such pain, Ginia. More