"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."
As Robinton was on his way out of the courtyard on the new young Ruathan runner-beast he had used his savings to purchase, a runner came trotting in: a man who was very familiar to him.
"Ah, you, wait a minute…" And Robinton reined his mount about.The runner had dutifully halted and turned to face him."I thought it was you."
The man smiled briefly."I've fooled many."
"Ah, but I'm a harper and as trained to notice details as you are.
Did you find Mallan?" he asked.
Hope died as the man's face drained of any expression.He shook his head."He died in the mines.That much I discovered." Then his expression altered to a fierce hatred."I'll get Fax yet."
"If you don't, I will." And with that promise, Robinton rode out of the courtyard.
Though he was welcomed wherever he went on the Keroon Plains, he occasionally felt the resistance to some of the traditional Teaching Ballads and did his best to discuss the concepts with the adults in the hold, reminding them of the Charter's provisions.
Often his evenings were spent in copying out that document so that it would be available to counteract the question of "lying'.He did feel that he got his message across to the doubters.
Several times he was warned by his host that "yon feller's not so friendly' and, if asked to play in the evening, Robinton carefully restricted his selections to unremarkable love songs or dance tunes.
Even so, he sometimes had to ignore sullen looks and manners.
One evening, at Red Cliff Hold, he was astonished when the runner he had spoken to as he left Harper Hall arrived, bearing a CraftHall reply for the holder.Robinton waited for a chance to speak to him and, by asking him to take a letter directed to his mother at the Harper Hall, managed a few private words with him.
"Didn't expect to see you here," Robinton said, flourishing the letter as if that was what was under discussion.
"How do you think Master Gennell knows where not to send harpers?" the runner said."Station Masters are the best ones to ask, by the way, should you be in doubt." Taking the letter from Robinton, he altered his tone and spoke more loudly."Wal, now, Harper, I'll be sure to take good care a' this "un fer ye."
When Robinton had finished his contract in Keroon, Master Gennell sent him on to Nerat, to a settlement which was, happily, devoted to the old ways.Robinton was able to relax his vigilance and do a proper job of instructing the young in their traditional songs and ballads.He was relieved to see that dragonriders often visited this area, collecting fresh fish for the Weyr.He always sent back greetings to F'lon and tried to speak to the dragons.They would look at him, surprised, but they never responded.
He returned in the spring to the Harper Hall.One look at his mother had him in a panic.She was nothing but skin and bones, all the beauty leached out of her face, with dry hair and a hard cough constantly racking her.She leaned on Petiron to walk even the shortest distance.
"You're not all right, Mother, not at all," Robinton said, glaring at Petiron who nodded, his expression doleful and worried.
"That's why you're home, Rob," Ginia said when he stormed into the Healer Hall in search of her.
He stood stock-still."Why I'm home?" He could not seem to comprehend what her words implied.
She pressed his arm, her face full of regret and pity."Yes, I know she's wanted you here.She doesn't have much time left."
"But…" Robinton clenched his fists at his sides."I've only just lost Kasia!"
"I know, Rob dear, I know." He could see the tears in her eyes.
"She's my dearest friend.All I can do is be sure she feels no pain."
He nodded acceptance of that, feeling the coldness of grief yet to come spreading throughout his body.