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values, but after the first two, she recognized the
"Riddle Song" and was very glad Petiron had made her leam the haunting tune.
52
"That's enough of that," Master Morshal said, drawing his overtunic about him
with quick, angry motions.
"Now, have you an instrument?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then get it and that third score from the top shelf.
Over there. Be quick about it."
Menolly hissed to herself as she stepped on her throb-
bing feet. Sitting had not relieved the swelling, and her feet felt thick at
the ankles and stiff.
"Hurry up, girl. Don't waste my time."
Beauty gave a soft hiss, too, from her perch on the top shelf, unlidding her
eyes, and from the rustling sounds in the same general area, Menolly knew the
other fire liz-
ards had roused. With her back to Master Morshal, she gestured to Beauty to
close her eyes and be quiet. She cringed at the thought of Master Morshal's
probable reac-
tion to fire lizards.
"I said to hurry, girl."
She shuffled to the place where she had laid the gitar and hurried back with
instrument and music. The Master took the hides, his lips twitching with
annoyance as he turned the thick leaves. This was new copying, Menolly saw,
for the hide was almost white and the notes clear and easily read. The hide
edges were neatly trimmed, too, the lines going from margin to margin, to be
sure, but no notes lost in decayed edges.
"There! Play me that!" The music was slid across the sandtable with Menolly
thought, somewhat shocked
complete disregard for the value of the work.
By some freak of chance, Master Morshal had chosen the "Ballad of Moreta's
Ride." She'd never manage the verse chords as written, and he'd fault her if
she couldn't.
"Sir, my ..." she began, holding out her left hand.
"I want no excuses. Either you can play it as written or I assume that you are
unable to perform a traditional work to a creditable standard."
Menolly ran her fingers across the strings to see if the tuning had held.
"Come, come. If you can read written scores, you can play them."
53
That was assuming a lot, Menolly thought to herself.
But she struck the opening chords and, mindful that he was undoubtedly waiting
for her to falter, she played the so well-known Ballad according to the score
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before her, rather than by rote. There were variations in the chords:
two of which were easily managed, but she flubbed the fourth and fifth because
her scarred hand would not stretch.
"I see, I see," he said, waving her to stop, but he looked oddly pleased. "You
cannot play accurately at tempo. Very well, that is all. You are dismissed."
"I beg your pardon, Master Morshal . . ." Menolly began, again extending her
hand as explanation.
"You what?" He glared at her, his eyes wide with in-
credulity that she seemed to be defying him. "Out! I just dismissed you! What
is the world coming to when girls presume to be harpers and pretend to compose
music!
Out! Great shells and stars!" His voice changed from scold to panic. "What's
that? What are they? Who let them in here?"
Already making her way down the steps, Menolly lost her anger with him at the
fright in his voice. His anger had roused her friends, and since she was
apparently in danger, they had rushed to protect her, by squeaking and diving
at him. She laughed as she heard the slamming of a heavy door, and as
instantly regretted the scene.
Master Morshal would be against her, and that would not make her life easy in
the Harper Hall. "Nothing to fear from harpers?" Was that what Tgellan had
said last night? Maybe not fear, but certainly she was going to have to be
cautious with them. Perhaps she ought not to have been so knowledgeable about
music; that had irri-
tated him. But wasn't that knowledge what he was test-
ing? Once again, she wondered it there really was a place for her here?
Presume to be a harper? No, she hadn't, and it was up to Master Robinton,
wasn't it? Were Master
Morshal and Master Domick part of the conventional procedures Master Robinton
had mentioned? Even it she needn't have much to do with them, she sensed their
antagonism and dislike.
54
She sighed and turned on the landing for the second flight and stopped. Piemur
was in the hall, motionless, his eyes enormous as he followed the excited
flitting of the fire lizards. Lazy and Uncle had subsided to the banister.
"I'm not seeing things?" he asked her, watching Lazy and Uncle with
apprehensive gaze. From the hand held rigid at his side, the forefinger
indicated the two fire lizards.
"No, you're not. The brown one is Lazy, and die blue
is Uncle."
His eyes followed the flight of the others a moment longer, trying to count.
Then they popped out further as
Beauty landed daintily on Menolly's shoulder, in her usual position.
"This is Beauty, the queen."
"Yes, she is, isn't she?" Piemur kept staring as Menolly descended to the
floor level.
Beauty stretched her neck, her eyes whirling gently as she returned his look.
Suddenly she blinked her eyes, and so did Piemur, which made Menolly giggle.
"No wonder Camo was cracking his shell over her."
Then Piemur shook himself, all over, like a fire lizard shedding seawater. "I
was sent to bring you to Master
Shonagar."
"Who's he?" asked Menolly, weary enough from the session with Master Morshal.
"Old Marshface give you a hard time? Don't worry about it. You'll like Master
Shonagar; he's my Master, he's the Voice Master. He's the best." Piemur's face
lit up with real enthusiasm. "And he said that if you can sing half as well as
your fire lizards do, you're an assss . . .
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atest . . .?"
"Asset?" It amused Menolly to be so considered by anyone.
"That's the word. And he said that it didn't really mat-
ter if you croaked like a watchwher, so long as you could get the fire lizards
to sing. Do you think she likes me?"
he added, for he hadn't stopped staring at Beauty. Nor had he moved.
55
"Why not?"
"She keeps staring at me so, and her eyes are whirling."
He gestured absently with one hand.
"You're staring at her."
Piemur blinked again and looked at Menolly, smiling shyly and giggling a bit
self-consciously. "Yeah, I was, wasn't I? Sorry about that. Beauty. I know
it's rude, but
I've always wanted to see a fire lizard! Hey, Menolly, c'mon," and now Piemur
moved off at a half-run, gestur-
ing urgently for Menolly to follow him across the court-
yard. "Master Shonagar's waiting, and I know you're new here, but you don't
ever keep a master waiting. And say, can you keep them from following us,
'cause they might sing, and Master Shonagar did say it was you he wanted to
hear sing today, not them again."
"They'll be quiet if I ask them to."
"Ranly, he sat across the table from you, he's from
Crom and he's so smart, he says they only mimic."
"Oh no, they don't."
"Glad to hear that, because I told him they're just as smart as dragons, and
he wouldn't believe me." Piemur had been leading her toward the big hall where
the
chorus had been practicing that morning. "Hurry up, Menolly. Masters hate to
be kept waiting, and I've been gone awhile tracking you down."
"I can't walk fast," Menolly said, gritting her teeth at the pain of each
step.
"You sure are walking funny. What's the matter with your feet?"
Menolly wondered that he hadn't heard that tidbit of news. "I got caught away
from the cave just at Thread-
fall. I had to run for safety."
Piemur's eyes threatened to bulge out of their sockets.
"You ran?" His voice squeaked. "Ahead of Thread?"
"I ran my shoes off my feet and the skin as well."
Menolly had no chance to speak further because Pie-
mur had brought her to the hall door. Before she could adjust her eyes to the
darkness within the huge room, she was told not to gawk but come forward at a
proper pace, he detested dawdling.
56
"With respect, sir, Menolly's feet were injured out-
running Thread," said Piemur, just as if he'd always been in possession of
this truth. "She's not the dawdling land."
Now Menolly could see the barrel-shaped figure seated at the massive sandtable
opposite the entrance. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]