Good fortune seemed to favour Robinton that day. They were hearing the representations and alibis of a holder who had been delinquent in managing his fields and cot when a messenger slipped in and handed Lord Melongel a message. He read it, gave a sniff and then, with a slight grin on his face, handed it over to the harper to read.
"You may leave. Other duties take precedence," Melongel murmured.
Reading the note, Robinton wasn't at all sure if he should take the excuse to leave. The message told him that F'lon had arrived with Holder Bourdon and his spouse, Brashia, who were awaiting him in Juvana's apartment. He dreaded meeting Kasia's parents far more than he dreaded being bored by the court proceedings. When he did not immediately rise, Melongel gave him a stern look. And so he pushed back his chair, nodded to Minnarden and to the faltering holder, and left.
The first thing he saw outside the Court Hall was everyone looking up at the Hold heights and pointing out the bronze dragon settling himself in the sun. Like rider, like dragon, Robinton thought as Simanith made quite a show of extending his gleaming wings before, with a smart crack of the tips, he folded them to his back and sprawled, his shorter front legs overlapping the edge.
F'lon was lounging against the front entrance to the Hold and grinned as he saw the harper hurrying towards him.
"I brought them safely here," he said, slapping Robinton on the shoulder and then holding him off to inspect the new clothing.
F'lon whistled and his amber eyes gleamed with mischief.
"Someone's taught you a thing or two. The lovely Kasia, perhaps?"
"I'm well able to choose my own clothes," Robinton said. Then he asked in a lower voice, as F'lon hurried him into the Hold, "Why did you have to bring them here so early?"
"Early? It's not early by my time, lad. Don't worry. I'll see that they don't rough you up."
When Robinton started to cross the hall to the stairs, F'lon neatly hauled him in another direction.
"This way," he said, and then pushed Robinton towards the side room which served as a private interview chamber. "And here he is," F'lon announced triumphantly, pausing at the threshold to let Robinton enter on his own.
"Ah, Robinton," Juvana said, rising to greet him and bring him towards her mother and father who were seated on the high-backed couch.
Swallowing fiercely, Robinton managed a nervous smile at Holder Bourdon, a grizzled man with deeply tanned skin. His green eyes, slightly darker than Kasia's, were tilted just like hers. His spouse, a sweet-faced woman with fading brown hair, gave Robinton a lovely smile and jumped up eagerly.
"Oh, Journeyman, you cannot know how pleased we are!" she exclaimed, coming forward and seizing Robinton's free hand.
Bourdon had been about to speak, but now he closed his mouth, made a gesture of helplessness and let her go on. "We've been so worried that she would mourn Merdine for ever ..." Her face clouded briefly, then her marvellous smile came out again. "And when she wrote to tell us' – she turned to her spouse for confirmation and Bourdon gave a patient nod – "we were overjoyed, but never did we expect to be able to attend her espousal so far away from Mardela. And at a very busy season." Bourdon nodded again.
"My pleasure, I assure you, to assist my good friend in every way," F'lon said, bowing.
Holder Bourdon cleared his throat. "Kasia says you're comfortable at sea, too?"
"Well, I don't get sea-sick," Robinton admitted.
"And not too proud to help gut and salt either, she says." "Come, sit, Robinton," Juvana said, gesturing for him to take the other double couch. "I can't imagine that you'd mind leaving Court Hall today ..." She gave him a sly sideways glance. "Your mother has already met my parents and is upstairs, keeping Kasia from a case of nerves."
"Kasia's nervous?" Robinton only just managed to keep his voice from betraying his own nervousness.
Juvana chuckled. "It's her privilege. My, but you look every bit as gorgeous as she does. Clostan?"
"Hmmm," Robinton admitted, shooting a glance at F'lon, who blinked and then rolled his eyes over his friend's prevarication.
"And what's this?" Juvana asked, touching the wrapped bowl Robinton still held. "An espousal gift already?"
Eager for something to discuss, Robinton showed the bowl and explained how pleased he was that Saday had taken him at his word.
"Oh, the wall people," Brashia said, and Robinton groaned, wishing he could make a better impression on Kasia's family. "Kasia told us how clever you were then."
Bourdon chuckled. "Got a quick head on your shoulders. No harm in that, lad."
A kitchener arived with a tray of refreshments, klah and wine with little cakes and biscuits. Robinton leaped to his feet to help her settle the tray. Then, as Juvana asked what her parents wished to drink at this hour, he busied himself passing cups and glasses and the plates of food, regaining some poise in that simple act.
"You're busy at this season in MardelaT he asked Bourdon politely.
"Packfish are running. D'you know them?"
"We've the northern variety, the bordos," Robinton said, as if he discussed fish varieties every day.
Bourdon nodded with approval. "Good eating, the bordos." Will your mother be singing today?" Brashia asked shyly. "We all know about MasterSinger Merelan in Mardela, but few of us have had a chance to hear her sing, living where we do."
"She plans to," Robinton replied, once again grateful to have such a mother – if only she were there with him now, to smooth his way.
"Special music?" Brashia asked, tilting her head in the same charming way Kasia had.
"Some of Robinton's own songs," said Juvana, ignoring Robinton's dire look. "He's far too modest. Melongel's of the opinion
that our Robinton is as good a composer as his mother is a singer." "Now, that's taking it a bit far, Juvana," Robinton protested.
"I don't think so," Juvana replied, unmoved. "Nor does Kasia." "She's partisan," F'lon said, leaning against the door frame and idly twirling his wineglass, his eyes dancing with mischief. "But I'll allow that Rob has spawned some fine tunes."
"So we'll hear some?" Brashia twisted round on the couch to look in Robinton's direction.
"You probably won't hear anything but Rob's songs," F'lon went on. "Most of today's best songs are his."
"Really?"
"Every new one and half the revised Teaching Ballads our Robinton composed."
If F'lon and Juvana thought they were helping him in this initial meeting with Kasia's parents, they were wide of their mark.
"I thought it was your father who composed so much music," Bourdon said, slightly confused.
"They both do," Juvana said, just as F'lon remarked, "You can sing Rob's stuff."
"Haven't you other Gather guests to collect?" Robinton asked as mildly as he could.
"Oh, no, I reserved the day entirely to help you," F'lon said with a flourish.
"You might like to see the Gather, then?" Robinton suggested, an edge to his voice.
Juvana laughed. "We'll stop, Rob. It's not fair to tease you, today of all days."
"I'm glad to hear you say that, Lady Holder."
"Oh, now come, Rob," she said, touching his arm. "I'm nearly your sister, you know."
Robinton's mind froze for a moment.
"Don't tell me that fact has escaped your clever mind?" F'lon asked, delighted by his friend's confusion. "Which makes Lord Melongel your brother. Doesn't it? Well done, Harper."