"It is," Lobira said in a flat voice.
Mallan gave a droll grin.
"He has not requested a harper," Lobira added in an acerbic tone.
Robinton sat up straight in surprise. "But ... why not?"
"He doesn't like us muddling the minds of his holders with unnecessary information," Lobira explained.
"Unnec ... But everyone has the right to read and reckon."
"Fax does not wish his holders to be educated, Rob," Mallan said, crossing his hands behind his head and tipping his chair back.
"Simple as that! What they don't know won't hurt them – because they also won't learn their rights."
"That's ... that's ..." Robinton struggled to find the appropriate word. "Can't Lord Faroguy insist?"
Lobira grunted. "He has suggested that reading and figuring are considered assets ..."
"Suggested?" Robinton shot out of his chair in protest.
"Now, lad, calm down. It isn't that we don't have more than enough students ..."
"But he's denying them their rights under the Charter!"
"He denies there is a Charter, you mean," Mallan put in.
"The Charter also guarantees that a holder has autonomy within his holding," Lobira pointed out.
"But his holders have rights."
"Don't be so naive, Rob. That's exactly what he's denying them access to," Mallan said, dropping his chair to all four legs for emphasis. "And don't go putting your head in that snake's pit. You'd never match him in a right, and you come on strong to him on that point and he's every right to challenge you. And be sorry that he just happened to break your neck!"
Robinton turned to Lobira for support, but the MasterHarper shook his head.
"I've warned Faroguy often about allowing Fax to have so much control. I've also warned both young Farevene and Bargen, Faroguy's eldest sons, to be on their guard. I'll say this for Farevene: he's a good wrestler and keeps himself fit. Bargen relies on the fact that the Council is unlikely to approve a nephew as long as there are acceptable sons. Both of them are, in my estimation. But I don't think they realize just how ambitious – and greedy – Fax is."
Lobira gave another curt nod of his head. "At that, we harpers have the respect our Hall deserves here in High Reaches, though I've heard' – his expression turned gloomy "– there're getting to be more and more places where harpers are barely tolerated." Mallan and Robinton both stared at him.
"One of the northern traders mentioned something ..." Mallan began.
"Let's not borrow trouble until it comes our way," Lobira said firmly and he went back to scheduling Robinton's assignments.
That discussion weighed heavily on Robinton's mind. He had been taught his Charter, and had even seen the original, carefully preserved between glass panes, its ink and precise lettering a marvel even after all the turns since it had been written. The Charter was taught, first as a Teaching Ballad to the youngest children, and then with more detail as the students grew old enough to memorize its provisions and to understand the meaning of each clause. A holder was not doing his duty by his people to deny them this information.
On the other hand, there was no provision made to punish holders who did not disseminate the information contained in the Charter. This was one of the shortcomings of the document. When Robinton had queried that in class, Master Washell had responded with a snort and then the notion that it must never have occurred to the writers of the Charter that anyone would be denied such basic human rights.
Robinton hoped that those who had learned their figures and letters under the previous holder would pass them on – however illicitly – to their children. Knowledge had a way of permeating any barriers set to exclude it. He could only hope that held true in Fax's hold.
CHAPTER TEN
The three turns that Robinton spent at High Reaches seemed to go by very quickly, punctuated by the rigours of the seasons. But he learned a great deal more than harpering, and considerably more about how a Hold controlling a population of many thousands was managed. At the head table in the evenings, Lord Faroguy seemed mild, gracious and inoffensive. But in his office, directing his sons and stewards in Hold management, he was incisive and efficient. There wasn't much the man didn't know about what went on in his Hold – except for the "blind spot," as Lobira put it, about his nephew Fax.
"Oh, Fax is clever," Lobira had told Robinton. "He did his time with Faroguy, same as the sons are doing, but you'd almost think Fax was a pure Blood relative."
"Maybe he is," Mallan put in, raising a critical eyebrow. "They do resemble each other."
Lobira dismissed that notion. "Faroguy has always adored Evelene. It's only a family resemblance."
Mallan lifted one shoulder. "Fax's mother died at birth, so we'll never know, will we? There's always the possibility that, with Evelene pregnant so often, he might well have taken his ease elsewhere."
"Strike that," Lobira said roughly. "And keep such notions to yourself."
"I have, but Faroguy's preference for Fax makes me wonder. He was born when Evelene had all those miscarriages: before Farevene was finally born." But Mallan had let the subject drop.
The disturbing conduct of Fax ended up being the only unpleasantness Robinton experienced during his Turns at the big Hold. He even enjoyed a woman for the first time, thanks to Mallan's conniving. Robinton had never thought much about his appearance, looking into a mirror only to be sure his hair was neat; he wore his dark brown hair long and braided, as many young men were currently doing. But he was putting flesh on his long bones, filling out, thanks to Lotricia's generosity with her "treats' and striding up and down the hills had added muscle to his lean shanks and chest.
As harper, he usually played for the dances rather than taking part in them. Then one day when Mallan noticed him chatting with three of the young holder girls between dances, he nudged Robinton.
"I'll take the next set for you. Time you picked out a partner." Another nudge to Robinton's ribs was accompanied by a wink. Then he stopped Robinton's protest by turning to the first girl. "Sitta, he's shy. Spent so much time playing for dancers, he doesn't know the steps."
"Don't know ... of course I know how to dance," Robinton protested, and he made haste to invite Sitta to partner him. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed her, with her delicately slanting eyes in a charming face, and tiny figure set off by the bright dark blue of her Gather dress. It was more that he didn't quite know how to strike the right note with those he fancied.
"I thought you'd never ask," Sitta said demurely, setting her tiny hand among his string-callused fingers.
"I've wanted to," Robinton replied sincerely.
"It's about time you did, Harper," she replied pertly, and then they were on the dance floor, saluting each other as the other couples did before the music began – adagio this time, so he did not have the chance to embrace her.
Sitta was a nice child and, after two dances with him, suggested that he partner one of her friends so as not to give anyone cause for talk. Quickly Robinton agreed; as a harper, he certainly shouldn't publicly indicate a marked preference – yet. And secondly, he really did want to dance. It was exhilarating. He also danced with Triana and Marcine. Triana was jolly and seemed more interested in being seen to dance than in who she was partnered with; Marcine was pleasant and attentive. Then it was time for him to take up his instrument again.
Triana went off in search of another partner, though she said he was one of the best she'd had here, while Sitta and Marcine hung about the players' platform and were quite happy to wait until he was free again.
During the next few days, he seemed to meet Sitta and Marcine accidentally, wherever he went. Then he was off on his rounds for the next four. When he returned late in the evening Sitta was somehow in the main Hall, so it was natural for her to make sure he had something warm to eat and drink. And something warm in his bed to welcome him home.