And where could she practise in peace and quiet with all the instruments and voices blaring constant cacophony into the rectangle?
The only one who found her at all bearable was Petiron. Once he heard her sing, he dismissed Merelan's remarks about her lack of discipline and a lack of general knowledge about music which was close to illiteracy. Jubilant over having a contralto with such a rich timbre and wide range, with no "break" whatever, he immediately began to write contralto solos into the TurnOver music he was currently composing. He discounted Merelan's suggestion that the girl would not be able to "read' the contralto line, much less manage the tempo changes or the cadenzas.
Unfortunately, Petiron's approval merely increased Halanna's already overbearing manner. Merelan needed all her tact, and the weight of her position as MasterSinger, to get the girl to do the vocalizes that would strengthen her breath control, sustain her range and prepare her for the rigours of singing Petiron's kind of vocally extravagant music. That Petiron had also envisaged a soprano/contralto duet did nothing to help Merelan, for it automatically put the girl on a par with a MasterSinger, which Halanna clearly was not despite an amazing natural voice.
Merelan hadn't a jealous bone in her body and was quite willing to prepare the girl or remedy the gaps in her education – if Halanna had been the least bit amenable. But the young singer decided that, if she was good enough to sing a duet with the leading MasterSinger of pern, she had no need to do such dull exercises and study vocal scores. She sang loudly, completely ignoring any dynamic alteration for the appropriate performance of a song or aria, concerned only with showing off the power of her vocal equipment. "Soft' was an unknown quality.
"If she keeps on shrieking like that," Washell said to Merelan when she approached him for advice on how to deal with Halanna, "she won't have a voice in a couple of turns. That'll solve that problem rather neatly, I'd say."
"Washell!" Merelan was shocked by the acid tone of his voice.
He raised his eyebrows, wrinkling his forehead, and gave her a long look.
"Of course, it's a lot harder to sing softly, since it requires considerable breath control. I've had many difficult students in my life as a teacher, m'dear, but that one is unique in my experience.
Whatever was Maxilant thinking of to encourage her to think so highly of her ability?"
"Sheer desperation, I'd imagine," Merelan replied with understandable disgust. "And a chance to get her out of his hair."
"You may be right. Though how he could let her away with so little fundamental understanding of note values is really beyond me."
"And quite possibly beyond Halanna," Merelan added. They exchanged understanding grins.
"Let Petiron handle this one, m'dear," Washell said, winking. "He won't like her messing up his music, you know."
"There is that," Merelan mused, and then grimaced. "Only he's likely to find me lacking as an instructor. And I'm not!" she added with a touch of desperate anger in her voice.
"By no means, m'dear, as everyone else in the Hall will vouch." Washell patted her arm. Then he paused, thinking. "There may be another way. We'll contrive. Just you wait and see."
Many of the Masters, and even journeymen, at the Harper Hall were eccentric in one fashion or another, traits which were respected or, sometimes, endured as a necessary evil to the results.
But they had all put in the essential work to master the basic mechanics of music. Halanna could not be bothered with such slogging.
Merelan kept at it, as obstinate in her attempts to instruct Halanna as the girl was to avoid such lessons.
Halanna was an accomplished flirt and quickly isolated those whom she would favour – because of their rank, either within the Hall or from prestigious Holds. She chose only the attractive journeymen and Masters, of whom there were quite a few just then: back at the Hall either for reassignment or to take part in the TurnOver rehearsals. Not only did she have a voice, even her worst enemies had to admit that she was a beauty. Blond hair bleached almost silver by the sun in Ista Hold, a flawless tan that accentuated her light green eyes and white, even teeth, a figure more mature than those of most girls her age – and she knew far more than she ought of how to accentuate her sensuality. She did not obey the cottage-keeper's basic rules, deciding they were for children and not the daughter of a Holder, though all the other boarders were of the same rank, and some more prestigious than hers. She was caught time and again sneaking in late at night.
Then Halanna took a dislike to Robinton ...
Merelan conducted her voice lessons in her own quarters, as they were spacious enough and offered some privacy. Right now, preparing for the TurnOver celebrations, she was coaching quite a few students and often had to schedule them when Robie was not in the Hall nursery school. He had always played quite happily and quietly in the other room. Now Halanna said his very presence so close to her was distracting, even with the connecting door closed, and she hated anyone to overhear her lessons. That was too much for Merelan. Nor' was it an excuse to find favour with Petiron, who was busy dreaming of the success of his new composition.
"Since it is so important to you, love," Merelan said from behind gritted teeth, "I really think you ought to take over her coaching. As you may have observed," she added, knowing perfectly well that he hadn't, "she will probably do better with a male coach. I've already more than I can handle with the secondary parts."
"But I can't teach her what you can," Petiron protested in surprise. In his estimation, Merelan was much the better vocal coach, and he couldn't quite understand how she was having difficulties with a voice as fine as Halanna's. "You're not annoyed that I've written in a duet for you to sing with her?"
"Me? No, why should I be? She has a magnificent voice, but she's a little shy on technique and I know she'll respond better to your comments."
Petiron was not at all sure of that, but there was something about Merelan's attitude which made him keep his private views to himself.
He anticipated no trouble at all.
"She's a musical idiot!" he railed when he returned from his first lesson with her. "Haven't you been able to teach her anything in the full month she's been here?"
"No," Merelan said quietly, and pointed to the closed door where Robinton was taking a nap.
"But she can't even read notes, even when I beat out the tempo for her. Nor is she able to maintain pitch when I change signatures. She expects me ... me ..." and Petiron laid an eloquent hand on his chest, "to teach her the entire score by rote. Could Maxilant have done that with her?" he enquired in a petulant tone.
"I believe Maxilant only raved on about her beautiful voice, love, and said nothing about the lack in her general musical education." Merelan spoke as levelly as she could, having great difficulty masking her inner jubilation.
"She wouldn't vocalize to warm her voice and told me' – Petiron swung on his spouse – "that you didn't bother ..."
"I didn't "bother" because I could never get her to see the necessity, Petiron," she replied with considerable vehemence. "Washell is of the opinion that if she continues to sing in alto for another few years, she won't be able to squeak."
Petiron recoiled in surprise at his gentle spouse's critical remark.
"No wonder you were so eager for me to coach her," he said almost sullenly.
"If you can't, no one in this Hall will be able to," she said, looking him squarely in the eye. "She might believe you, where she's certain I'm jealous of your interest in her."
Petiron scowled. "Aren't you?"