"It?" Nip said, grinning up at his MasterHarper with mischief as he tried to keep up with Robinton's long stride.
"Whatever it is you'll be up to next." Robinton shortened his steps in deference to Nip's exhaustion.
"Let me report first, Rob," said Nip, trying to wriggle free.
"I won't listen to a word until you are gone over, washed, and fed," Robinton said firmly.
Nip knew when to give in to a superior.
Master Oldive commented on the number of bruises and scrapes, and the two swollen and empurpled toes on one foot.
"He must bounce," the Master said with a sly grin after he had completed his examination. The spinal deformation which marred the Healer's back and had brought him to the Hall in the first place seemed to fascinate Nip, who kept trying not to look at it. Long since, Oldive had become impervious to such observations.
"Sound, if contused, but no lasting harm that a good hot bath, a double portion of whatever Silvina has in the hearth pot and several days in bed will not cure."
"Several days?" Nip would have jumped from the examining table but for the restraining hands of both healer and harper. "I wouldn't mind a bath, I can tell you," he said more meekly, rubbing dirt-encrusted fingers together. "And some decent food."
So he was given both, and he probably did not notice that Oldive, who joined him and Robinton in Silvina's little office, slipped something in his klah. He had finished his meal before the drug took effect; he was just pushing back the final dish of sweet pudding when he abruptly sagged down to the table top, his face just missing a splash of the pudding sauce that had spilled there.
"Good timing there, Oldive," Robinton commented.
"Yes, rather good, if I say so myself."
Silvina gave them each a jaundiced glance. "The pair of you! You're wretches, dyed-in-the-bone wretches."
"Ever at your service, my pet," Robinton said, giving her a flourish which ended as he took one side of the unconscious Nip while Oldive took the other, lifting the limp form off his bench. With Silvina opening doors ahead of them, they carried the runner up to the Harper's quarters where he was carefully laid down on the bed in the spare room and covered, to sleep himself out.
"That was a rotten trick, Robinton," Nip complained when he woke a day and a half later. Then his face dissolved into a grin which was singular enough to give him a totally different appearance.
"I needed that." He stretched and took the cup of klah which the Harper had readied as soon as he heard noises from that room.
Robinton was privately amused that Nip's timing was good. He had begun to wonder about the man's whereabouts.
"So I'm ready to listen," Robinton said, as he started to pull the chair forward, "unless you wish to eat first."
"No, I'd rather not turn my stomach while I'm eating." And with that dour statement Nip warned Robinton that his report was bad.
"It's as well Tarathel sent so many. Vendross, who captained them, is a good man and a canny leader. He took no chances. There were more of Fax's louts camped at the Crom border Vendross spread his men out across the border and turned back those who tried to sneak right back into Telgar lands. There were a good number of Tarathel's regular guards, and those Vendross set to watch at the fiver holds and report any sightings. The others he sent back home."
Robinton nodded. At least Tarathel would take no chances that Fax might be coveting the broad Telgar Valley, not to mention the SmithCraftHall at the junction of the Great Dunto River.
"I sort of went forward three steps and back a few, trying to keep track of how many were splitting off. But the main group of fourteen continued on back to Crom. When I was sure that Vendross ..."
"Does he know you?"
Nip made a face, tilted one hand back and forth, and then grinned again. "Kind of. He never asks. I never tell. But he trusts my reports."
"As well he should."
"Thank 'ee kindly, MasterHarper, sor," Nip retorted cheekily. "So I kept on, ahead a bit, to see which way they might go." He shook his head, his expression sad. "I wouldn't want to be under that man's Hold for any reason. What he does to those unfortunates there ..." He shook his head, sighed, and then seemed to shake himself out of such reflections. "I'll tell you this now, Harper, in case you ever need to know." The tone made Robinton regard Nip fearfully.
"Oh, I'm not saying you ever do need to know, but times being as they are, a little precaution is not untoward. Lytol who was L'tol" – and Robinton nodded to show that he knew who was meant – "is trying to keep his family's CraftHall going. Managing in spite of Fax, but I have a safe haven in the storage loft. It could well be that a dragonrider and a harper will bring that man down when the time's ripe." He paused. "On the good side, I've found Bargen!"
"Have you now?" Robinton sat up straight with real pleasure at such tidings. "Where?"
Nip gave one of his little chuckles. "Not dumb, our young Lord Holder. He's up at High Reaches Weyr, with one or two others who made it safely out of Fax's clutches. Last place that one'd go."
"What's Bargen doing? Is he well?"
"Well, and doing a few exercises which may annoy Fax."
"Nothing that would endanger any of the innocent ..." Robinton raised an anxious hand.
Nip cocked his head, grinning. "Little that can be traced back to anyone in particular. I think Bargen's grown up – a bit roughly, but it'll work to his advantage."
"Do remind him that the Harper Hall will assist him any way it can."
Nip smiled ruefully. "When and if the Harper Hall is able, my friend, considering harpers are in nearly as bad odour as drag-onriders these days. At that, he could do little with the few men he has except wait." And that ruined Robintons fleeting dream of seeing Bargen Holding High Reaches in the near future. "Any luck with Lord Kale?"
Robinton shook his head. "The man's too good, too roasting.
He's already had Fax as a guest, selling him runner-beasts, so why would I suggest that Lord unconfirmed Holder Fax would not continue such blameless behaviour?"
"Spare us!" Nip waved a hand over his head in despair at such innocence.
"He has agreed to mount a border patrol and build beacons."
"That's quite a concession," said Nip with a degree of sarcasm and a grim smile. Then he rolled his eyes thoughtfully. "You know, as a proper harper, I could drop a word in his ear now and then, keep him on his toes?"
"Have you ... ever ... been a proper harper, Nip?" Robinton asked, grinning.
"Oh, now and then," Nip said, wiggling the fingers of his right hand. "Not that I'd dare flaunt the blue in Fax's vicinity." he finished the last of the klah and stood. "I need another bath. That one only got off five layers of dirt and two of ache. Then I'm for another of Silvina's meals. She's quite a woman, isn't she?" Robinton felt his face colour. Nip missed nothing.
"One of a kind, as her mother was," the MasterHarper said blandly.
Nip chuckled and, whipping the towel off its peg on the door, whistled as he made his way to the bathing room. The MasterHarper's quarters had its own facility.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Nip departed several mornings later, riding the most nondescript runner in the Hall's beasthold.
"Out of deference to my toes," he explained. He also had a fresh set of clothing – which Silvina had got out of storage, no doubt outgrown by some apprentice. "Not too good, but at least in one piece," had been his request.
Between them, Silvina and Robinton forced him to take a fine fur rug for use until such time as circumstances made him abandon it.
"There are more holdless than holded up north," Nip said, fingering the rug. "Ah, a few nights on the ground and it'll look no better than the old one I ... lost." And he grinned.