Kulla pulled Robinton back down. "Eat. You look peaked, and don't mind Targus."
Robinton decided to concentrate on eating. There was nothing wrong with the flavoursome stew, or the quality of the tubers and greens that accompanied it. The bread had been made fresh that day, and when the last piece was taken by Erkin – or maybe that was Mosser – the woman sliced up another loaf and filled the dish. Though his hunger would have been sated by the first helping, she served Robinton a second, equally large portion while Targus grumbled.
"i'll feed whoever I choose in this house, Targus. This hold has always been hospitable. You can dislike harpers all you want, but I don't," she said fiercely. Then in a completely different tone of voice she turned and smiled with genuine appeal in her eyes.
"Would you mind playing for us after?" When Targus started to growl, she turned on him. "And you shut your face, Targus. I haven't heard any music since last Solstice, and I promise you'll eat nothing but cold porridge for the month if you say another nasty thing."
The young boy had slipped back in and helped himself to more stew and bread, shooting glances at the other end of the table where Robinton ate, solidly protected by the woman.
"Music !" Targus did growl when Robinton brought out his pipes.
"You've no gitar?" Kulla asked plaintively. "I was hoping you'd sing for me."
"It's on my pack animal ..."
She sent the boy, Sheve, for the instrument. "And handle it careful, y'hear?"
The moment Robinton started playing, Targus stamped towards a half-open door, turned and glared at his sons expressively, but all of them pretended not to see and he slammed the door behind him.
Robinton played and sang far more softly than was his habit.
When he finally struck a few bad chords from sheer fatigue, Brodo touched his mother's arm. "He's sung for a week of suppers, Ma."
"Why's Pa hate music so?" Erkin asked.
"He says harpers sing lies," Mosser said, malice in his twinkling eyes.
"Didn't hear a one," their mother said stoutly. Then she waggled her finger at Mosser. "Nor you, neither, or you'd're stirred yourself out of the room when your pa left. You'll sleep in here, Harper.
Erkin, get the furs. Sheve, throw down that spare mattress from the loft. I'll just bank the fire."
His bed was quickly organized and the final night-time chores completed, leaving him in sole possession of the main room. He was relieved to see the canines follow the boys out to another part of the cot.
The next thing he knew, the thud of wood going into the fireplace roused him from a deep sleep and he saw his hostess taking the porridge pot from the back of the hearth where it had simmered all night.
"You'll want to travel soon's it's light, Harper," she said in a soft voice.
"He hasn't given you any trouble ..." Robinton began.
Kulla's snort of denial was soft, but he could see her lips were smiling. "He knows better," she said, still quietly, and then reached for a cup to pour him klah.
It was thick and very strong; the jolt of the liquid in his belly woke him up completely. She set a bowl of porridge on the table and began to slice more bread, which she then covered with a worn but clean napkin.
"The beast'll be to the left as you leave the cot," she said.
He finished his breakfast quickly, accepting her haste, hospitable though it remained. With the bread in one hand and his gitar in the other, he murmured his thanks again and left.
The sun was not yet up, but there was light enough to show him the beasthold. He'd had plenty of practice now in settling the pack, so that he was off down the road again within minutes.
"And let that be a lesson to you," he murmured to himself.
"Harper lies? Whatever would he mean by that?"
He passed over the Benden border late that morning, and that night stayed at a friendly Runner Station where harpers were always welcome.
When he finally arrived at the Hold, no one was on the steps waiting to welcome him. Just as he was climbing up to the entryway, a party of riders clattered in on the northern road and he recognized Raid, Lord Maidir's eldest son.
"Ah, Journeyman, we've been expecting you," said Raid, swinging down from his mount and throwing the reins of the tired beast to the holder who came running up from the beasthold.
"Raid, it's good to see you again," Robinton said genially.
Raid peered up at the harper. "I know you?"
"Robinton. MasterSinger Merelan's son," Robinton said, taken aback.
But Raid responded with a wide grin and an extended hand, then a clout on the arm. "I wouldn't have recognized you from that scrawny kid!"
Robinton had to laugh – Raid was in no way altered from his memory of the young man.
"I have earnestly tried to improve myself," he admitted.
"Glad to hear that," Raid said, characteristically unable to spot irony. "Come, there'll be hot klah or wine, now that you're old enough, to wash away the travel dust. Been long on the way?"
"Yes, and fully appreciate the size of this continent now in a manner I had not experienced."
"Yes, well, there's that, isn't there?"
Robinton reflected that Raid had been born in a mould and not altered the framework one bit in his nearly thirty Turns. Well, there is something to be said about predictability for a harper's purposes, he thought.
"Your father's well? And Lady Hayara?" he asked politely.
"My father is much bothered by joint-ail." Raid frowned with concern. "Our healer can relieve the discomfort only for short periods of time." He sighed and, also characteristically, did not mention his father's second wife.
But she had been alerted by the return of the work party and was sailing into the hall – a woman whose proportions seemed to be a permanent appearance of late pregnancy. Her smile when she recognized Robinton – and she had no trouble doing so – was all he could wish for, both as a returned guest and a new harper.
Talking away furiously, which permitted her to ignore Raid beyond a brief nod, she called for a drudge to take Robinton's carisaks to his quarters, then urged him into the hall where food and drink were being brought in and set on a table. She ordered chairs to be set for her and the harper, and apologized for Lord Maidir's absence, and told him that Maizella was about to be espoused to a fine young holder, and said that she was glad he had come so that he could plan the music because she really didn't have anything new, and if Robinton did, that would be splendid – but only music which had a tune that people could enjoy. Then she realized what she had said and started apologizing about his father's sooo impressive music, but really that sort of thing wouldn't do for such a happy occasion, would it?
At some point during that monologue, when she stopped to draw a breath, Raid said that he would inform Lord Maidir of the harper's arrival and see when it would be convenient for Robinton to present himself officially to the Lord Holder. He would also apprise Harper Evarel that his journeyman had arrived.
Breath taken, Lady Hayara, whose ebullience had not altered, brought him up to date on how many students there were currently, and told him that Maizella, in her spare time, was conducting lessons with Harper Evarel, who was nearly as crippled with joint-ail as her spouse but carrying on bravely until Robinton could arrive, and exclaimed how happy Evarel would be to have a trained assistant because – she didn't know why – the holders seemed to be breeding enormous families.
Robinton managed to stifle a laugh. He had counted up the number of offspring she had presented to Lord Maidir in the Turns since Rob and his mother had been at Benden Hold: she was a fine one to talk about large families, with seven more in the intervening Turns, making a total of ten. Small wonder that Raid said little to her. She was presenting him with problems; although undoubtedly Raid would delegate the more responsible males to assist him, while espousing the girls as creditably as possible. Robinton just hoped there wasn't an ambitious and scheming nephew in Benden Hold, too.