"I suspect Forist will be taller but the other three won't make his height," said Petiron, who had never liked his brothers at all.
"Nor yours." Idly she brushed sand out of his heavy dark brown hair, flicking it off his shoulder and giving herself the excuse to touch his warm, smooth skin.She liked his back.He had muscled up a great deal.Not that he would ever carry much flesh: he was too intense to put on weight.But he looked better than he ever had, and she loved him more than ever.
He glanced up at her, saw her look and responded to it.Catching up her hand to his lips, he nibbled at her fingers, never breaking eye contact.
"When Robie takes his afternoon nap, can we find shade somewhere?" he asked, his breath coming a trace faster.
"We can indeed," she murmured, feeling her own ardour rising to meet his."Segoina has given me a potion that will make it safe for us all the time."
When they did return to the Harper Hall, everyone remarked on the tremendous improvement in Merelan's health, on how big Robinton had grown in six months, and how much the change had improved Petiron's temperament.
CHAPTER TWO
Petiron was working on his latest score, when a soft noise distracted him.Listening, he could hear it coming from the other room.Merelan had stepped out on an errand; Robinton was having his nap.
The faint noise was an echo of the theme he was hastily inscribing before he lost it - he didn't realize that he had been humming it as he worked.Irritated, he looked around for the source of the mimicry.
And found his son awake in the trundle bed and humming.
"Don't do that, Robinton," he said in exasperation.
His son pulled the light blanket up to his chin."You were," he said.
"I was what?"
"You hummmmdded."
"I may, you may not!" And Petiron shook his finger right in the boy's face so that Robinton pulled the blanket over his head.
Petiron pulled it down and leaned over the little bed."Don't you ever mimic me like that.Don't you ever interrupt me when I'm working.D'you hear that?"
"Whatever did he do, Petiron?" Merelan exclaimed, rushing into the room and hovering protectively at the head of the cot."He was sound asleep when I left.What's been going on?" Robinton, who rarely cried, was weeping, stuffing the end of the blanket into his mouth as the tears crept down his cheeks.The tears were more than Merelan could endure, and she picked up her sobbing son and cradled him, reassuring him.
Petiron glared at her."He was humming while I was writing."
"You do; why shouldn't he?"
"But I was writing!How can I work when he does that?He knows he's not to interrupt me."
"He's a child, Petiron.He picks up on anything he hears and repeats it."
"Well, I'm not having him humming along with me," Petiron said, not the least bit mollified.
"Why shouldn't he if you wake him up?"
"How can I possibly work if you're both interrupting me all the time?" He flung up his arms and stalked out of the bedroom."Do take him somewhere else.I can't have him singing in the background."
Merelan was already halfway across the sitting room, her crying son in her arms."Then you won't have him in the background at all," she said in a parting shot.
"I don't know when I've been more annoyed with him," she told Betrice, who was fortunately in her apartment when Merelan tapped at her door.
"I don't suppose he noticed that the child hums on key," Betrice said in her droll fashion, clearing the mending from the padded rocker so that Merelan could sit and calm her child.
Merelan blinked at Betrice and then began to chuckle."I'm certain he would have mentioned it if Robie were off-key.That would have been injury added to insult." Then she paused."You know, Robie hums along with me when I do my vocalizes.I hadn't realized it before.There now, little love." And she dried Robie's eyes with an edge of the blanket he was still clutching to his mouth.
"Your father didn't really mean to yell at you…"
"Ha!" was Betrice's soft response.
"But we do have to be quiet when your father's working at home."
"He has his own studio…" Betrice put in.
"Washell borrowed it to speak to those parents who wandered in unannounced."
"Only Washell could get away with that."
"So, my little love, we'll have to learn to keep our hummings to just you and me from now on.And let Father get on with his important work."
"Ha!More of his incomprehensible, meaningful and significant musical conundrums.Ooops, sorry!" Betrice covered her lips with an unrepentant hand."I know he's the most important composer in the last two centuries, Merelan, but could he not once contrive a simple tune that anyone - besides his own son - could sing?" She rose and walked to the wall cupboard, where she opened one door.
Merelan regarded Betrice without rancour."He does rather complicated scores, doesn't he?" Then she smiled mischievously."He just likes to embellish."
"Oh, is that what it's called?Give me a simple tune that I can't get out of my mind!" Betrice said.Having found what she wanted, she returned to Merelan."But we both know I'm a musical idiot, for all the MasterHarper and I have been espoused now thirty turns.Here you are, my fine lad.Much more appetizing than blanket to chew on." And she handed Robinton a sweet stick."I believe you prefer peppermint."
The tears were nearly dry, but the gift brought the winsome smile back and a clear "t'ank you' from the recipient.He pushed himself straighter on Merelan's lap, accepted the offering and leaned back against his mother's comforting body as he sucked happily on the sweet.
"I'm not criticizing Petiron, Merelan," Betrice said earnestly.
Merelan smiled gently."You say nothing that isn't the truth, but he's much easier to deal with, generally speaking, when he's composing."
"Which seems to be often…"
Merelan laughed."Petiron naturally complicates things.It's a knack he has," she said indulgently.
"Humph!He's a very lucky man to have such an understanding mate," Betrice said emphatically, "as well as one who can sing what he writes as easily as she breathes."
"Ssssh." Merelan put a finger to her lips."Sometimes I have to work very hard to keep up with him." "Never!" Betrice pretended disbelief, then grinned broadly at the MasterSinger.
"It's true, nevertheless, but," and Merelan's expression softened with pride, "it's wonderful to have such challenging music to sing."
Betrice pointed to Robie, happily stickying up fingers, face and blanket."What are you going to do about him?"
"Well, first off, I shall see that Master Washell never has need of Petiron's studio again," Merelan replied, her usually serene expression resolute, "and I shan't leave the pair of them together unless I'm positive Robie's fast asleep."
"That sort of limits you, doesn't it?" Betrice asked with a snort.
Merelan shrugged."In a Turn or so, Robie will be in with the other Hall children during the day.It's a small enough sacrifice to make for him.Isn't it, love?"
"It's all too true," Betrice said with a wistful sigh."They're young such a short time - even if it feels like an age while they're growing up and away from you." She sighed again.
Merelan felt something sticky on her arm and, looking down at her son, saw that the sweet had fallen from his hand.
"Will you look at this?" she said softly, peering with a loving smile at the thick lashes closed on his cheek.
"Here, put him on the day-bed."
"I don't mind holding him," Merelan protested."You've work to do."
"Nothing I can't do while minding a sleeping child.Go on off and do something by yourself for a change.If you aren't tending him…” she pointed to Robinton "… you're minding him." Her finger jerked in the direction of Merelan's quarters.