"What you two cannot appreciate is how much my momentary disability has set back some very important-"
"Momentary disability?" Fandarel's eyes protruded in amazement. "My dear Robinton-"
"Master Robinton?" Menolly took a cup from the crowded cabinet, a beautiful glass goblet, its base stained harper blue, its cup incised with the Master's name and a harp. "Have you seen this?" She held it out to him, her eyes round with approval.
"My word, harper blue!" Robinton took and examined the beautiful thing.
"From my crafthall," Fandarel said, beaming. "Mermal thought to tint the entire glass blue but I argued that you would prefer to see the red of Benden wine in a clear cup."
Robinton's eyes gleamed with appreciation and gratitude as he examined the cup carefully. Then his long face fell into a sorrowful expression.
"But it's empty," he said in a plaintive, mournful tone.
At that moment a commotion started in the kitchen corner of the Hold. The curtain was flung roughly aside as Piemur, all but losing his balance in an effort not to careen into Brekke, lurched into the room.
"Master?" he gasped.
"Ah, yes, Piemur," the Harper drawled, eyeing his young journeyman as if he had momentarily forgotten why he had summoned the young man. The two regarded each other steadily, a puzzled frown on the Harper's face while Piemur's chest heaved as he panted, blinking sweat from his eyes. "Piemur, you've been here long enough to know where they store the wine? I've been given this lovely goblet and it's empty!"
Piemur blinked again and then shook his head slowly and said to the room at large, "There's nothing wrong with him anymore! And if that roast wherry bums…" He gave the Harper a thoroughly disgusted look, turned on his heel, whipped aside the curtain and could be heard noisily opening doors.
Jaxom caught Menolly's eye and she winked at him. Piemur's gruff manner and cracking voice had not disguised his emotion to those who knew him. He stamped back into the main hall, swinging a wineskin, with Benden wax on its stopper.
"Don't swing it, lad," the Harper cried, holding up a restraining hand at such sacrilegious treatment. "Wine must be handled with respect…" He took the skin from Piemur and peered at the seal. "Hmmm, One of the better vintages! Tsk, tsk, Piemur, have you learned nothing from me of how to treat wine?" He made a grimace as he expertly cracked the seal and sighed with relief as he saw the condition of the stopper's end. He passed it under his nose, sniffing delicately. "Ah! Yes! Beautiful! Took no harm from its travel! There's a good lad, Piemur, pour for us all, will you, please? I can see this Hold is admirably supplied with cups."
Jaxom and Menolly were already distributing them as Piemur, with the courtesy due good Benden vintages, poured. The Harper, holding his cup high, watched the ceremony with growing impatience.
"Your continued good health, my friend." Fandarel proposed the toast which was repeated firmly by everyone.
"I am truly overwhelmed by all this," the Harper said, giving strength to his claim by taking only a small sip of the excellent wine. He looked from one to another of his friends, nodding his head and then shaking it. "Truly overwhelmed!"
"You haven't seen everything yet, Robinton," Lessa said and took him by the hand. "Brekke, you come see, too. Piemur, Jaxom, bring the bundles."
"Not so fast, Lessa. I'll spill the wine!" The Harper watched his glass as Lessa pulled him behind her.
He was guided through the sliding panel into the small corridor that separated the main Hall from the sleeping quarters. Brekke followed, her face alight with keen interest and curiosity.
The Harper's sleeping room was the largest, occupying the comer opposite his workroom. Four more sleeping rooms had been furnished to accommodate two guests in each but, as Lessa pointed out, the porch itself could comfortably sleep half a Hold of guests. Not that Robinton was to be allowed that many. He expressed pleasure at the bathing room and was suitably impressed by the large kitchen, and dutifully peered at the auxiliary hearth outside. He sniffed as the aroma of roasting meat wafted on the sea breeze. "Where's that being done, might I ask?"
"We've steaming and roasting pits on the beach," Jaxom said, "to use when there's a horde here."
The Harper laughed, agreed that horde was probably the proper term.
"Try your chair," Fandarel said, striding to the armed chair when they returned to the main room. He turned it about for the Harper to see. "Bendarek made it exactly to your measure. See if it suits? Bendarek will be anxious to hear."
The Harper took time to examine the beautifully carved, high-backed chair, covered with wherhide dyed a deep harper blue. He sat down, put his hands along the armrests, found they were precisely the length of his forearm, and that the seat of the chair admirably fit his long legs and torso.
"It is beautiful, tell Master Bendarek. And a perfect size. How considerate Bendarek is. How overwhelmed I am by this and every other single item in this Hold. It is… magnificent. That's the only word for it. I'm speechless. Rendered completely speechless. Never in my wildest flights of fancy did I expect such luxury in unexplored wilds, such beauty, such thoughtfulness, such comfort."
"If you're speechless, Robinton, spare us your eloquence," came a dry voice. All turned to see the Masterfisherman standing in the open main door.
Everyone laughed, and Master Idarolan was beckoned forward and given a cup of wine.
"There are more bundles for you, Master Robinton," the Seaman said, gesturing toward the porch.
"You and your crew are to eat with us. Master Idarolan," Lessa called out.
"I was hoping so. Don't noise it about, but occasionally I do get the craving for red meat, not white."
"Master Robinton! Look here!" Menolly's voice was high with surprise. She was looking inside one of the cabinets that lined the walls between windows. "I'd swear it's Dermently's hand! And every single Traditional song and ballad, newly written on leaves and bound in blue wherhide! Just what you've been wanting to have Arnor do for you."
The Harper exclaimed with surprise and nothing would do but he had to open each folder and appreciate the craftsmanship and collection. Then he began to investigate all the cupboards and presses of Cove Hold until the midafternoon heat drove everyone to the beach to swim and cool off. Brekke fretted that the Harper should rest, quietly by himself, but Fandarel dismissed the notion, gesturing to Robinton, who was sporting in the water with the others.
"He is indulging in another type of rest right now. Leave him. Night's soon enough for sleeping!" .
The evening breezes sprang up as the sun dipped closer to the western horizon. Rugs and woven mats as well as benches were brought out so that all the guests could be comfortable. When F'lar and F'nor arrived, they were enthusiastically welcomed by the Harper, who wanted to show them his beautiful Hold and was somewhat disappointed that they were already quite familiar with it.
"You forget how many people helped build it, Robinton," F'lar said. "It's probably the best known Hold on the entire world."
At that moment Sharra and the ship's cook-a thin man because that's the only sort, he told her, who could fit in the closet-sized excuse for a galley on the Dawn Sister-proclaimed that the feast was ready and were nearly run down by the hungry guests.
When no one could eat another morsel and even the Harper was reduced to small sips of wine, the guests settled into smaller groups: Jaxom, Piemur, Menolly and Sharra in one, the seamen in the largest, and the dragonriders and craftsmen in the third.
"I wonder what they're plotting for us to do now," Piemur said in a sour mutter after staring at the intense expressions of the third group.