“Silvina said…”
“Silvina is a wonderful woman. Without her the Hall would be in chaos and our comfort ignored,” Master Shonagar said, still in a loud tone. “She is also a good musician…ah, you didn’t know that? You should make the occasion to listen to her singing, my dear girl…. But,” again the voice boomed, Master Shonagar’s belly bouncing, although the rest of him seemed stationary, “I thought I had made it plain that you are to be here without fail every single day!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Come fog, fire or Fall! Have I made myself plain enough?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Then…” and his voice dropped to normal proportions, “let us begin with breathing…”
Menolly fought the desire to giggle. She mastered it by breathing deeply and then settled quickly to the discipline of the lesson.
When Master Shonagar had dismissed her with a further injunction to be on time not the next day, which was a rest day and he needed his rest, but the day following, the work parties were back from their chores. To her surprise, she was greeted by many of the boys as she raced past them to get back to the fire lizard eggs. She answered, smiling, unsure of names and faces but inwardly warmed by their recognition. As she took the steps to the higher level two at a time, she wondered if the boys all knew about the previous night’s disturbance. Probably. News spreads faster in this Craft Hall than Thread could burrow.
The sounds of soft gitar strumming reached her ears as she got to the upper hall. She slowed down, out of breath anyhow, and arrived at the Harper’s quarters still breathing heavily, much as Sebell had done. He glanced up, grinned understandingly, and held up a hand to reassure her. Then his hand gestured to the sandtable. All her fire lizards were there, crouched, watching him.
“I’ve had an audience. What I can’t tell is if my music has pleased them.”
“It has,” Menolly told him, smiling. She extended her arm for Beauty, who immediately glided to her. “See, their eyes tell you…the green is dominant, which is sleeping pleasure. Red means hunger, blue and green are sort of general shades, white means danger, and yellow is fright. The speed of the eye whirling tells you how intensely they feel about something.”
“What about him then?” And Sebell pointed to Lazy whose eyes were first-lidded.
“He’s called Lazybones for good reason.”
“I wasn’t playing a lullaby.”
“Except when he’s hungry, he’s that way. Here,” and Menolly scooped Lazy up from the sandtable and deposited him on Sebell’s arm. Startled, the man froze. “Stroke his eye ridges and the back joints of the wings. There! See? He’s crooning with delight.”
Sebell had obeyed her instructions, and now Lazy collapsed about the journeyman’s forearm, locked his claws loosely about the wrist and stretched his head across the back of Sebell’s hand. Sebell caressed him, a shy and delighted smile on his face.
“I hadn’t thought they’d be so soft to the touch.”
“You have to watch for patchy skin and oil it well. I did a thorough job on these the other evening, but can see where I’ll have to do them again. Just stay there…” And Menolly quickly went down the hall to her room for the salve, Beauty complaining at the jouncing on her shoulder.
As they spread salve on the fire lizards, Sebell grew more confident of his handling of the creatures. He wore a half-smile, as if surprised to find himself at such a task.
“Do all fire lizards sing?” he asked, oiling Brownie.
“I don't really know. I suppose mine learned simply because I used to sing to them in the cave.” Menolly smiled to herself, remembering the fire lizards perched attentively on the ledges about the cave, their little heads turning from side to side to catch the sounds of music.
“Any audience being better than none?” asked Sebell. “Did anyone think to tell you that Lord Groghe’s little queen has recently started to sing along with the Hold Harper?”
“Oh no!”
“If Groghe could carry a tune,” Sebell went on, enjoying her dismay, “it’d be understandable. Don’t about it, Menolly. I heard also that Groghe’s delighted.” Then Sebell’s expression altered subtly.
“I’ll bet Lord Groghe wasn’t so happy about last night, was he?” she hesitated, then blurted out. “Do you think Canth and F’nor will live?”
“They have much to live for, Menolly. Brekke needs them to stay alive. She’s lost her queen already. She’ll make them live. We’ll know more when the Harper returns.”
Camo entered the room, carrying a heavily laden tray. His thick-featured face changed from ludicrous anxiety to beams of joy as he saw first the fire lizards and then Menolly.
“Pretty ones hungry? Camo has food?” And Menolly saw two huge pans of meat in pieces among the other dishes on the tray.
“Thank you for feeding the pretties this morning, Camo.”
“Camo very quiet. Very quiet.” The man bobbed at Menolly in such a fashion that the pitcher of klah splashed. Sebell deftly relieved him of the tray and set it on the sandtable center board.
“You’re a good man, Camo,” the journeyman said, go to the kitchen now. You must help Abuna. She needs you.”
“Pretty ones hungry?” The disappointment was writ large on Camo’s face.
“No, not now, Camo,” Menolly said gently, smiling up at him. “See, they’re asleep.”
Camo turned himself in a circle toward the sandtable and then the window ledges where several of the fire lizards were sprawled on the sun-warmed stone, glistening with their recent oiling.
“We’ll feed them again tonight, Camo.”
“Tonight? Good. Don’t forget? Promise? Promise? Camo feed pretties?”
“I promise, Camo,” Menolly said with extra fervor. The wistful, piteous way in which the poor man asked her to promise suggested that too many promises made to Camo were conveniently forgotten.
“Now,” Sebell said as the man shuffled from the room, “Silvina said you’d no time for more than klah when you woke. If I remember Shonagar’s lessons, you’ll be starved.”
To Menolly’s delight, there was redfruit on the tray as well as meatrolls, klah, cheese, bread and a sweet conserve. Sebell ate lightly, more to keep her company than because he was hungry, though he said he’d been studying. To prove that, he rattled off the names and descriptions of the fish she had given him the other morning.
“Did I remember them all correctly?” he asked, peering at her as she stared at him in amazement.
“Yes, you did!”
“Think I can pose as a seaman now?”
“If you only have to name fish!”
“If only…” he paused dramatically, making a grimace for that restriction. “I had a chat with a bronze dragonrider I know at Fort Weyr. He’s agreed to take us, on the quiet, to any body of water that you feel is adequate to teach me how to sail.”
“Teach you how to sail!” Menolly was appalled. “In one easy lesson, like those fish names?”
“No, but I don’t think I’ll actually have to sail. I should know the fundamentals and leave…” he grinned at her, “…the doing to the experts in the craft.”
She breathed a sigh of relief for she liked Sebell, and she’d been distressed to think that he might be foolhardy enough to attempt sailing on the ocean by himself. Yanus had often said that no one ever really learned all there was to know about the sea, the winds and the tides. Just when one got confident, a squall could make up and smash a ship to splinters.