Anne McCaffrey - Dragonsinger

There was a startled murmur of surprise from the others. “She ranks us,” said someone, rebellious and astonished.

“There’s rank in the Harper Hall?” asked Menolly, disturbed and wondering what other elements of courtesy she might unwittingly have neglected. Hadn’t Petiron always told her that the Harper Craft, in particular, laid stress on skill and musical achievement rather than natal rank? But Piemur had said, “You rank ’em.”

“Half-Circle is not the oldest seahold. Tillek is,” said the dark-complexioned girl, rather crossly. “Menolly is daughter, not niece,” said the girl who had mentioned outranking. She now extended her hand, less grudgingly, Menolly thought. “My father is Weaver Craftmaster Timareen of Telgar Hold. My name is Audiva.”

The dark-complexioned girl was about to name herself, her hand extended, when a sudden shuffling of feet alerted them all, and they took their places at the bench as everyone in the hall stood straight and looked forward. Menolly was then facing a tall boy whose slightly protuberant eyes were bulging with interest on the little scene he had just witnessed. Looking over his left shoulder and through a gap, she saw Piemur, rolling his eyes as far to his right as possible. Menolly tried peering in the same direction and decided it must be the Harper’s table that Piemur watched. Then everyone was jumping over the benches to get seated, and she hastened to do the same.

Heavy pitchers of a thick, meaty, hot soup were passed, and trays of the yellow cheese, which Camo must eventually have taken care of, as well as baskets of crusty bread. Evidently meals were reversed here in the Harper Craft Hall, with the heaviest meal in the middle of the day. Menolly ate hungrily and quickly until she realized that the girls were all taking half-spoonsful and breaking their bread and cheese into dainty bitesized portions. Pona and Audiva watched her surreptitiously, and one of the other girls tittered. So, thought Menolly grimly, her table manners differed from theirs? Well, to change would mean admitting that hers were faulty. She did slow down, but she continued to eat heartily, making no bones about asking for more while the girls were still but halfway through their first serving.

“I understand that you were privileged to attend the latest Hatching at Benden Weyr,” Pona said to Menolly with all the air of one conferring a favor by such conversation.

“Yes, I was there.” Privileged? Yes, she supposed it would be considered a privilege.

“I don’t suppose you can remember who made Impression?” Pona was vitally interested.

“Some of them, yes. Talina of Ruatha Hold is the new queen’s weyrwoman…”

“You’re certain?”

Menolly glanced beyond her to Audiva and saw merriment in her eyes.

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“Too bad those three candidates from your grandfather’s Hold didn’t Impress, Pona. There’ll be other times,” said Audiva.

“Who else do you remember?”

“A lad from Master Nicat’s Craft Hall Impressed a brown…” For some reason that seemed to please Pona. “Master Nicat also received two of the fire lizards’ eggs.”

Pona turned her head to stare haughtily at Menolly. “How ever did it come about that you…” and Menolly was made intensely aware of her unworthiness “…have nine fire lizards?”

“She was in the right place at the right time, Pona,” said Audiva. “Luck doesn’t recognize rank and privilege. And it’s thanks to Menolly that there were fire lizard eggs for Master Robinton and Master Nicat.”

“How do you know that?” Pona sounded surprised but her tone lost its affectedness.

“Oh, I had a word or two with Talmor while you were busy trying to make up to Jessuan and Benis.”

“I never…” Pona was evidently as quick to take offense as give it, but she lowered her tone at Audiva’s warning hiss.

“Don’t worry, Pona. Just so long as Dunca doesn’t catch you flipping your skirts at a son of the Hold, I’ll hold my peace.”

Whether Audiva was subtly deflecting Pona from pestering Menolly with snide questions or not, Menolly didn’t know, but the girl from Boll ignored her for the rest of the meal. As Menolly had been taught that it was impolite to talk through or around someone, she couldn’t converse with the apparently friendly Audiva, and the boy beside her was talking to his mates, his back to her.

“My uncle of Tillek says that fire lizards are going to be nothing more than pets, and I thought pets weren’t allowed in the cottages…” said the dark girl, her mouth setting primly, as she cast a sideways look toward Menolly.

“The Masterharper doesn’t rate fire lizards as pets, Briala,” said Audiva in her droll way, and she winked at Menolly over Pona’s head. “Of course, you’ve only got one at Tillek Hold.”

“Well, my uncle says the Weyrmen are spending too much time on these creatures when they ought to get down to basic problems and go after Thread on the Red Star. That’s the only way to stop this dreadful menace.”

“What are the dragonriders supposed to do?” asked Audiva scornfully. “Even you should know that dragons can’t go between blind.”

“They ought to just flame the Red Star clean of Thread, that’s what.”

“Could they really?” asked the girl beyond Briala, her eyes round with amazement and a sort of hopeful horror.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Amania,” said Audiva in disgust. “No one’s ever been to the Red Star.”

“They could try to get there,” replied Pona. ‘That’s what my grandfather says.”

“Who’s to say the first dragonmen didn’t try?” asked Audiva.

“Then why isn’t there a Record of the attempt?” demanded Pona with haughty condescension.

“They’d certainly have written a song about it if they had,” said Briala, pleased to see Audiva confounded.

“‘Well, the Red Star is not our problem,” said Audiva.

“Learning songs is.” Briala’s voice had a wailing edge to it. “And when are we going to have a chance to learn that music Talmor set us today? We’ve got rehearsal tonight, and it’ll go on and on because those boys are always—”

“The boys? Just like you to blame it on the boys, Briala,” said Audiva. “You had plenty of time this afternoon to practice your lessons, same as the rest of us.”

“I had to wash my hair, and Dunca had to let out the seams of my red gown….”

“If you’d stop… Oh, not redfruit again?” Pona sounded aggrieved, but Menolly eyed the basket of delicacies with surprised delight.

Pona might affect indifference, but she was quick to snatch the curiously shaped fruit from the basket when it was passed to her. Menolly took hers and ate it quickly, getting as much of the sweet, tangy juice as possible. She wished she had the courage to lick her fingers the way the boys mere doing. But the girls were so stuffy and mannered, she knew they’d stare if she did.

Suddenly the demands of the day, the excitements and tensions, sapped the last of Menolly’s energy. She found it almost unbearable to have to sit at the table amid so many unknown people, unable to guess what more might be asked of her before she could seek the quiet and solitude of her bed. She worried about her fire lizards, and then tried not to, for fear they would seek her out. She was conscious of her throbbing feet; her hand ached, and the scar begged to be scratched. She shifted on the bench, wondering why they were held here at table. Restlessly she craned her neck to peer around at the Harper’s table. She couldn’t see Master Robinton but the others were laughing, obviously enjoying an aftermeal conversation. Was that why everyone was being held so long? Until the masters had stopped talking?