oh, decades now. I think it needs to be heard more often. Maybe someone will find its answer."
"Then, S'loner, do you believe that Thread will return?" asked a man, rising from the far end of the head table. Robinton hadn't seen him before, but he must be a Benden holder of some prosperity to judge by his clothing and where he was seated.
Robinton was close enough to see Carola tug at S'loner's sleeve, her brows drawn together in a scowl. Rob glanced over to where Falloner still sat, and saw an eager expression on his friend's face.
The entire audience seemed to hold their breaths.
"We've another fifty turns to go before the Star Stones will tell us yea or nay, my friend. But the dragons are here and Benden keeps up its strength. That is the pledge we made to Hold and Hall when the first dragon cracked its shell. It is one that I, and every Weyrleader after me, will keep!" Then he bowed again to Merelan, caught Robinton's eyes briefly and sat down.
Quickly then, Merelan gestured for the instrumentalists to strike up a merry tune. That was also the signal for the drudges to come and clear the tables, to make space for dancing in the centre of the Hall. There was a lot more talking while the tables were cleared, dismantled and stored to one side, chairs rearranged and the younger children taken off to their beds.
Robinton was playing hand-drum for the early sessions of the dancing, so he didn't get a chance to speak to Falloner that evening.
But the next morning in music class, the moment he and his mother entered the room Falloner leaped on him, hauling him by his shirt to one side.
"Who told you to sing that?" he demanded in a harsh whisper, his expression intense, almost accusing.
"Mother," Robinton said, having hoped to hear something else from his best friend: like, "You sang that well."
"Shards, but it had Carola going!" Falloner grinned. "S'loner must've been over the moons with delight. Our old harper – the one before C'gan – didn't know it and couldn't find it even when S'loner made him hunt through the Records for it. He only knew that he'd learned it. It's possible G'ranad, the Weyrleader before him, struck it out of our Teaching."
"It's back in Harper Hall Records," Robinton said. "I had to copy it out several times for harpers going off on assignment."
"Well, one thing sure, you made my father very happy."
"Why?"
"Because he knows -' Falloner paused significantly, his expression oddly intense, "– that Thread will come again. And he's fighting to get others to believe it. That song is a warning, as well as a question." He clapped Robinton on the back. "And I'll be following him, on a fighting bronze. Just you see if I'm not."
"But, even if Thread comes, it's not due for another fifty turns or more, and you and I will be old."
"Fifty isn't old when most dragonriders live to their tenth decade and better. Old M'odon's nearly one hundred and ten, and there's nothing decrepit about his brown Nigarth."
"Does he remember Threadfall?"
"Naw, he's too young for that, but his great-grandfather flew it." Just then Merelan called the class to order. "We're going to learn the new song today, the Question Song. Weyrleader S'loner particularly asked me to teach it. Robinton, if you'll sing it again for us so we can start learning the melody, we will honour that request, as we should honour all dragons and their riders."
Five days later a green rider came with an invitation for the MasterSinger and her son to dine at the Weyr and, if she would be so kind, to bring some of the new music that had been heard in Benden Hold.
Robinton was never sure if it was because he had sung the Question Song or because the Weyrleaders wanted his mother to sing more for them.
"Of course it means I'm to sing, love," she said, grinning at her son, "so we'll take instruments with us. But I'm glad that you've been invited, too. I've wanted you to see Benden Weyr." She paused and then winked conspiratorially at him. "Then, when you have to spend the night up at Fort Weyr, you won't be the least bit scared."
"How did you know about that?" The apprentices did not tell anyone, certainly not the girls.
Merelan chuckled. "There's a lot that goes on in the Hall that is known but not talked about, lovey. Not that, for a single moment, I would think you'd be frightened of just an empty place."
Robinton puffed out his chest. "But aren't all the Weyrs different?"
Merelan considered this. "Yes, and in fact there are maps of the interiors lodged in the Archives ... or should be. Another thing that I must check on when we get back."
"When are we going back, Mother?" Not that he really wanted to, if he was being honest with himself. He really, truly liked it here at Benden, and especially Falloner. He had never had a best friend before.
He felt his mother smoothing his hair. "Do you miss the Hall?" she asked.
"Not when I get my lessons from you," he said, grinning up at her. "You're harder on me than Master Washell or Kubisa."
"I am, am I?"
"And it's great to have you to myself," he added and felt her hand hesitate.
"But you don't, Robie," she said, and her voice sounded so funny that he looked up at her to see why. He caught the hint of her frown.
"You share me with Benden Hold and all its students."
He thought that over for a moment. "Yes, but it's not the same."
"No, it isn't," she said very slowly. "However, you and I must do some practising so we'll show them our mettle."
Later, Robinton told Falloner about the invitation. "Will you be coming up too?" he asked, practically dancing in his delight.
"Me? No, why should I be?"
"But ... but ... but ..."
Falloner dismissed the "but' with an indifferent hand and a wry grin. "I'm lucky to be down here at the Hold. I lost my birth mother when I was born, and my foster-mother died of a fever the healer couldn't cool down, and there's no one up there I want to see."
"Not even your father?"
Falloner cocked his head at his friend. "No more than you want to see yours."
"I never said anything like that ..."
"But you never mention him, do you? So you don't miss him, do you? Besides, I prefer to stay out of Carola's way, and Lady
Hayara's fairer to me than even Stolla ..." His voice altered to a kinder tone. "But she's nice, even being headwoman in the Lower Cavern and all. She the one who made S'loner send me down here until it cooled off--' He stopped short, making a horrible grimace as if he'd let his mouth run away with him.
"What cooled off?."
Falloner's expression turned to bland innocence. "Cooled what off?"
"You just said ..." And then Robinton stopped, shrugged and dropped the subject.
It was Lady Hayara's intervention that saw Falloner going with Robinton.
"For the company," she told Merelan. "Falloner will show Robinton around without letting him go where he shouldn't." She
fixed a stern look on Falloner, but let it turn into an understanding smile. "But I expect you not to tease Lama so much any more."
"She follows me everywhere," Falloner complained, screwing his face up. "Lama's Carola's daughter," he explained to Merelan, "and a real pain."
"Now, Falloner," Lady Hayara said, wiggling a warning finger at him, "I know that Rob will be asked to sing, but it's good for an upcoming harper to learn more about the Weyr than what is sung."
The brown dragon who collected the invited guests did not quibble about adding Falloner to his back. Nor did his rider, who greeted the boy with a wry grin.