"Every single Lord Holder we didn't cram in yesterday is here, and every Mastercraftsman." F'lar flung up both hands in an extravagant gesture of impatience.
"Surely you've explained..."
"We've all been explaining," F'lar said irritably. "I know we've got touchy prides among our ranking personalities, but you'd think each one had been personally insulted by not being summoned yesterday." He bit into the meatroll and washed it down with a gulp of klah, scowling as he swallowed. "The worst complainers are those who haven't paid much attention to what's being done here at Landing. Different tune right now, I can tell you."
Lessa regarded him with astonishment. "How d they all find out? "
F'lar flashed an ironic grin at Menolly. "Guess?"
The harper groaned and hid her face in her arms.
"Those dratted fire-lizards again!" Lessa's scowl was fierce. She shook her head. "And I suppose they came a-dragonback."
F'lar grimaced as he pushed hair off his forehead again. "I should never have given Hall and Hold resident dragonriders. They've taken to using the courtesy as if dragons were runnerbeasts."
"Oh, well, we have to take the bad with the good, and the courtesy certainly improved relations with Hold and Hall. It's just awkward at the moment. Nevertheless, it is essential that the Lords and Craftmasters experience Aivas for themselves. There'll be some hidebounds who will deny the evidence of their eyes and ears anyway. So, if they're here, they might well have a chance at Aivas."
"Oh, they're here," F'lar said airily, waving his second meatroll. "Sebell lets them in a few at a time and interrupts the session whenever Aivas is needed for the ongoing work. Most of the them go away shaking their heads and trying not to look bewildered. Very few of them have understood the significance of Aivas." He brought his fist down on the table. "When I think of what we once had, once were! What we can be again with Aivas's help!"
Lessa smiled at his intensity. "According to Aivas, even Landing wasn't built in one day." She began to knead the taut muscles about his neck and shoulders. "Eat, love. We've handled the skeptics before. We'll do it again in our own inimitable fashion." She leaned down and kissed his cheek.
F'lar gave her a rueful grin. "And you're handling me as you usually do, aren't you? "
Lessa gave him a look of mild indignation as she slipped back into her chair and picked up her half-eaten roll. "Reassuring you, dear heart."
From Mnementh, Lessa heard an incredulous mental snort.
Don't spoil the effect, she told the bronze dragon.
Not likely, Mnementh replied sleepily. The sun is exceedingly warm here in this Landing place.
Ramoth agreed.
Sebell appeared in the doorway then, nodding at the two Weyrleaders as he beckoned to Menolly.
"Master Robinton wants to have Menolly added to the roster. N'ton's there as Weyrleader. And Fandarel snatched Jancis on her way to the kitchens. She's needed to do some drafting. Someone else is bringing more klah and food." Sebell helped himself to the remaining meatroll. "This'll make a good conference room." Then, draping one arm around Menolly's shoulders, he steered her out the door.
Lessa shot an intimate look at her own mate, and he grinned as he chewed the last of his meatroll and reached for a redfruit.
"Are you already on the list?" Menolly asked Sebell as they made their way down the corridor.
He gave her a mischievous grin, hugging her against his side. They fell easily into step. As he often did, Sebell wondered at his great good fortune to have won Menolly as his mate. He could not mind that part of her heart which was Master Robinton's. Part of his was the Harper's, too, along with his complete loyalty and respect; but Menolly was the joy of his life.
"How long must we wait?" Oterel, Lord Holder of Tillek demanded, scowling deeply as the two harpers passed him where he waited in the hallway.
"The room is small, Lord Oterel, and there is a great deal to be done today," Sebell said placatingly.
"Small or not, Fandarel and other very minor craftsmen have been in there for hours, and now he has hauled his granddaughter in, too," Oterel complained peevishly.
"If you were able to draw clear diagrams as she does, Lord Oterel," Menolly said, "you would doubtless be in there." She had disliked the testy old Lord of Tillek Hold ever since he had spoken out so vehemently against her attaining her Mastery.
Oterel glared fiercely back at her. Beyond him, Lord Toronas of Benden Hold covered a grin with his hand. "You're impudent, young woman, far too impudent! You dishonor your Hall."
Sebell gave him a long quelling look and then pulled Menolly into the small room. It was hot and stuffy, with stools crammed so closely together that she wondered how Jancis, Piemur, Terry, and another smith she didn't recognize could draw at all. Fandarel was hovering over them while N'ton leaned indolently against the far wall. Then she saw the screen and its display of unfamiliar objects as clearly defined as if the actual item had somehow gotten inside this Aivas and been magnified.
"Now, once the connections with the F-322RH have been made"-the rich, beautifully modulated voice made Menolly gasp in surprise; she glanced around and caught Sebell's grin at her reaction as she tried to locate the source of the voice-"the circuit will be completed. Add this board to those already installed and come back to me for the next step."
Obediently the four left, talking to one another in low tones. N'ton came forward then, and Fandarel cleared his throat.
"We three-Weyrleader N'ton; I, Craftmaster Fandarel; and Masterharper Sebell-request that you add Master Menolly of the Harper Hall to the roster."
"Will Master Menolly please speak so that a voiceprint may be taken?"
"A voiceprint?" Menolly asked, astonished.
"Yes, a human's voice is a more effective means of identification than physical appearance, which could be duplicated. Your voiceprint cannot. Therefore, it is necessary for you to speak so that a voiceprint ID can be registered to the roster file."
Menolly, rendered uncharacteristically speechless by the unusual request and the glorious voice, looked helplessly at Sebell. He flicked his fingers encouragingly, grinning cheerfully while N'ton mouthed words at her.
"I'm Menolly, once of Half Circle Sea Hold, and I'm better at singing than speaking," she said, stammering slightly in her confusion. Then she fretted that she was letting a stammer be registered.
Master Fandarel made a tumbling gesture with his hands, which she took to mean that she should continue talking.
"My rank is Master in the Harper Hall. I compose music and write lyrics. Master Sebell, here, is my mate, and we have three children. Have you heard enough?"
"That is sufficient for a voice with such a distinctive timbre," Aivas said. "Are copies of the music you write available? For the main files?"
"You want my music?" Menolly exclaimed in surprise.
"Music was very important to your ancestors."
"You have some of their music?" She could barely contain her excitement.
"There is an extensive file of music, spanning over two thousand years."
"But you're only one voice?"
There was a significant pause. "It would be inappropriate to use more than one in conversational mode. This system is, however, adapted to reproduce music in its varied instrumental forms."
"It is?" Menolly was aware of Sebell's chuckle and N'ton's grin.