“Beauty! Rocky! Diver! Stop it!”
Menolly jumped in front of Domick, arms outstretched, protecting him from the onslaught of winged retaliation.
“What do you mean, disobeying me? Attacking Master Domick? He’s a Harper! Behave yourselves.”
Menolly had to shout because the girls, seeing the fire lizards swooping down, screamed and tried variously to get under the table or off the benches, overturning them; anywhere away from the fire lizards.
Domick had sense enough to stand still, incredulous as he was at the attack. Despite the girls’ shriek, Menolly had the lungs to be heard when she wished to.
Twittering, Beauty circled once and then came to Menolly’s shoulder, glaring balefully at Domick from behind her mistress. The others lined up on the mantel, wings still spread, hissing, their jeweled eyes whirling, looking ready and quite willing to pounce again. As Menolly stroked Beauty to calmness, she struggled with an apology to Domick.
“Back to work, you! The rest of you, along to your sections,” Domick said, raising his own voice to energize the stragglers in the dining hall who had observed the strange attack, and the boys who were clearing the tables. “I’d forgot about your loyal defenders,” he told Menolly in a tight but controlled voice.
“Master Domick, will you ever forgive…”
“Master Domick,” said another voice near the floor, and Audiva crawled from under the table. Domick extended a hand to help the girl to her feet. She glanced toward the entrance, then gave Menolly a brief nod. “Master Domick, Dunca told Menolly nothing about your message, but we all knew about it. Fair’s fair.” With one more glance at Menolly, she hurried across the dining hall to catch up with the girls in the courtyard.
“How did you contrive to alienate Dunca?” asked Domick, his expression sullen but less fierce.
Menolly gulped and glanced at the fire lizards.
“Oh, them! Yes! I can quite see her point.” There was no flexibility in Master Domick’s attitude. “They do not, however, intimidate me.”
“Master Domick—”
“That’s enough, girl, Since you haven’t the native intelligence to be tactful, I shall have to—”
“Master Domick—” Master Sebell came hurrying up.
“I know, I know,” and the Master cut off the journeyman’s explanation. “You do seem to acquire some champions at any rate. Let’s hope the end result is worth the effort. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, promptly after breakfast, in my study, which is on the second level to the right, fourth door on the outside. You will take your pipes this afternoon to Master Jerint for the first hour. I’m told you made the pipes yourself in that cave of yours? Good! Then the second hour you’re to see Master Shonagar. Now, get yourself off to Master Oldive. His office is at the top of the steps on the inside, to your right. No, Sebell, you do not need to hover about her so protectingly. I’m not so lost to common sense as to punish her for being the victim of envy.” He gestured imperatively at the journeyman to accompany him and then strode out of the hall. Sebell gave her a quick nod and followed.
“Pssst!” Attracted by the sound, Menolly looked down and saw Piemur crouched under the table.
“Is it safe to come out?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in chore section?”
“Yeah, but never mind. I’ve got a few seconds leeway. Hey, those fribbles have it in for you, don’t they? Or maybe Dunca made them not tell you?”
“How much did you overhear?”
“All of it.” Piemur grinned, getting to his feet. “I don’t miss much around here.”
“Piemur!”
“Menolly, can I help you feed the fire lizards tonight?” he asked, eyeing Beauty warily.
“I was going to ask you.”
“Great!” He beamed with pleasure. “And don’t worry about them,” he added, jerking his head toward the door, meaning the girls. “You’re much nicer’n them.”
“You just want to make friends with my fire lizards…”
“Too right!” His grin was impudence itself, but Menolly felt that he’d have been her friend without Beauty and the others. “Gotta scamper, or I’ll be put on. See you!”
She made her way to Master Oldive’s office. He had the hard-gum ball for her and showed her how to exercise her hand around it.
“Not,” he said, giving her the grimace of his smile, “that your hand will lack exercise of other sorts around here. How much does it ache?”
She mumbled something, so he gave her a stern look and laid a small pot in her hand.
“There is only one excuse on this planet for the existence of that odorous plant known as numbweed, which is to ease pain. Use it when needed. The salve is mild enough to give you relief without loss of sensitivity.”
Beauty, who’d observed everything from her perch on Menolly’s shoulder, gave an admonitory chirp, as if agreeing with Master Oldive. The man chuckled, eyeing the little queen.
“Things are lively with you lot about, aren’t they?” he said, addressing the fire lizard directly. She chittered in response, turning her head this way and that as if looking him over. “How much larger will she grow?” he asked Menolly. “I understand yours are not long out of the shell.”
Menolly coaxed Beauty from her shoulder to her forearm so that Master Oldive could examine her closely.
“What’s this? What’s this?” he asked, glancing from Beauty to Menolly. “Patchy skin?”
Menolly was horrified. She’d been so engrossed in her own problems that she hadn’t been taking proper care of her fire lizards. And here was Beauty, her back flaking. Probably the others were in trouble, too.
“Oil, they need to be oiled…”
“Don’t panic, child. The matter is easily taken care of,” and with one long arm, he reached to the shelving above his head, and without seeming to look, brought down a large pot.
“I make this for the ladies of the Hold, so if your creatures don’t mind smelling like females fair…”
Shaking her head, Menolly grinned with relief, remembering the stinking fish oil she’d used first for the fire lizards at the Dragon Stones cave. Master Oldive scooped up a fingertip of the ointment and gestured toward Beauty’s back. At Menolly’s encouraging nod, he gently smoothed the stuff on the patchy skin. Beauty arched her back appreciatively, crooning with relief, and then she stroked her head against his hand in gratitude.
“Most responsive little creature, isn’t she?” Master Oldive said, pleased.
“Very,” but Menolly was thinking of Beauty’s deplorable attack on Master Domick.
“Now, I’ll have a look at your feet. You’ve been on them too much; there’s quite a bit of swelling,” he said sternly. “I want you off your feet as much as possible. Did I not make that clear?”
Beauty squeaked angrily.
“Is she agreeing with me or defending you?” asked the Master.
“Possibly both, sir, because I had to stand a lot yesterday…”
“I suppose you did,” he said, more kindly, “but do try to keep off your feet as much as possible. Most of the masters will be understanding.” He dismissed her then, giving her the extra jars and reminding her to return the next day after dinner.
Menolly was glad the Master had an inside office, or he’d have seen her trudging across the courtyard after her pipes; but there was no other way, if she was to report with them to Master Jerint. And she didn’t wish to offend another master today.
The chore sections were at work in the courtyard, sweeping, cleaning, raking and doing the general heavy drudgery to keep the Harper Hall in order. She was aware of furtive glances in her direction but affected not to notice them.
The door to the cot was half-closed when she reached it, but Menolly clearly heard the voices raised inside. “She’s an apprentice,” Pona was shouting in strident and argumentative tones. “He said she was an apprentice. She doesn’t belong with us. We’re not apprentices! We’ve rank to uphold. She doesn’t belong in here with us! Let her go where she does belong…with the apprentices!” There was a vicious, hateful edge to Pona’s voice.