“We’re old friends.”
“Good friends.” Karenchok lifted his wineglass appreciatively.
“You don’t get good Benden often in South Boll.”
Nine days later a runner brought Robinton a short message from F’lon: Larna had died two days after Fallarnon’s birth. Robinton sent back a message by the same runner, expressing his condolences.
In his heart, though, Robinton envied F’lon, who had a son to remember his love by.
When Karenchok was finally walking soundly and able to ride again, Robinton reluctantly bequeathed him the Ruathan runner – a much sounder and smarter animal than the weedy elderly runt which had thrown him. He rode Karenchok’s back to the Hall, having no other, and it was indeed the most uncomfortable of runner-beasts.
The first thing he did when he got back to the Harper Hall was to tell the beastholder to get rid of this bag of bones and find him a new riding animal. His second action was to find his mother. He didn’t like what he saw and taxed her with questions about her health.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, love, really. Just a little tired. It’s been a busy winter, you know.”
Robinton was not so easily put off and cornered the MasterHealer the next morning.
“She does seem fine, Rob,” Ginia replied slowly, “but I know, as you do, that she’s not. She’s losing weight, yet I see her eating well at table. I’ve my eye on her, never fear. She and Betrice.”
“Betrice?” Robinton realized that he hadn’t seen the MasterHarper’s spouse, who was usually busy about the Hall somewhere. “What’s wrong with Betrice?” Was his whole world crumbling about him? Were all the people he loved and admired suddenly showing their mortality?
Ginia laid a hand on his arm, her expressive eyes sad. “There is so much we don’t know and can’t help.” She paused and then sighed. “Sometimes people just wear out. But I promise you I’m
watching your mother carefully.”
“And Betrice?”
“And Betrice,” Ginia said with a nod.
At dinner that evening, Robinton sat next to Betrice, noting the
slight wobble in her hand as she ate and trying not to see it. So he regaled her with the funniest incidents he could remember, and her laughter was as ready as even Once their eyes met and locked, and she gave him a funny little smile and patted his hand.
“Don’t worry., Rob,” she said in a low voice, turning her head away from her spouse who was involved in a lengthy exploration of some legal point with a journeyman whom Robinton remembered as another of Shonagar’s voice students.
“Just you take good care of yourself, too, Betrice,” Robinton said
with as much love as he could put in his low tone.
“Oh, I do. I do.”
Robinton had to be content with such reassurances, and the following morning he accepted the next assignment Master Gennell had for him: this time in Keroon.
“You haven’t been to the plains yet, have you? Good experience, Rob, good experience. Again it’s a short contract.” Gennell passed Robinton a piece of hide. “These are the holds you do not go to.”
“Do not …?” Robinton was surprised and scanned the nine names listed.
“Yes,” the MasterHarper said. “I’m sorry to say, harpers are not always regarded with the respect they formerly were, as I think you’ve discovered a time or two.”
Robinton grimaced. “But why? We’re only trying to help. We don’t tell people lies …”
Gennell cocked his head, a sad smile turning down the corner of his expressive mouth. “There are many who feel that the Duty Song is lies.”
“Honouring the dragonriders?”
Gennell nodded. “That’s one so-called lie. You have realized that, even in the larger holds, some feel that the Weyr and its riders
are relics of a past danger we no longer need to consider.”
“But, Master Gennell …”
The MasterHarper held up his hand and gave a brief smile. “You have had a long association with the one remaining Weyr. Many nowadays have never even seen a dragon in the sky, much less met a dragonrider. Sometimes Search is misinterpreted, too, although there have been few enough of them lately.” He sighed and gestured to the list. “Just save yourself grief and avoid those holds. We can’t force people to learn when they’ve no wish to listen.”