Anne McCaffrey - Dragonsinger

The notion of Benis in Half-Circle Sea Hold appealed to Menolly, though she didn’t know if that was whom Lord Groghe had in mind.

The slap of running feet and hoarse breathing interrupted the conversation as the apprentice lad, juggling two trays, all but slid the contents into the laps of those he served.

As the new fire lizards were fed, Menolly saw that more and more people were filing into the central square, taking seats at tables and benches. At one end was a wooden platform. Now a group of harpers took their places and began to tune up. Immediately sets were formed for a call-dance. A tall journeyman harper gave his tambourine a warning shake and then called out the dance figures in a loud voice that carried above the music while his tambourine emphasized the step rhythm.

Those watching on the sidelines clapped in time to the music, shouting good-natured encouragements to the dancers. To Menolly’s surprise, Lord Groghe added a hearty smacking beat of his hands, stamping his feet and cheerfully grinning about at everyone.

Once the music started, the square filled up, and still more benches were angled into any free space. Menolly saw colors of all the major crafts on journeymen and apprentices from the halls of the Fort Hold complex. Groups of men stood about, drinking wine and watching the dancing, their heavy boots and clean, though earth-stained, trousers marking them as small holders in from neighboring farms for the restday and a bit of trading at the gather. Their womenfolk had congregated along one side of the square, chattering, tending smaller children, watching the dancing. When the sets changed, some of the holders dragged their giggling but willing women out to make up new groups as the musicians began another foot-tapping, hand-clapping tune.

The third was a couple’s dance, a wild gyration of swinging arms and skipping legs, an exercise that rendered every participant breathless and thirsty to judge by the calls on the wineman’s lads when the dance ended.

A change of harpers occurred now, the dance-players giving up the platform to Brudegan and three of the older apprentices who ranged themselves slightly behind Brudegan. At his signal they sang the song that Elgion had sung the night of his arrival at Half-Circle Sea Hold: it was one Menolly had never had a chance to learn. She leaned forward, eager to catch every word and chord. On her shoulder, Beauty sat up, one forepaw lightly clasping Menolly’s ear for balance. The little queen gave a trill, glanced inquiringly at Menolly.

“Let her sing,” said Master Robinton. Then he leaned forward, “But, if you can keep the others where they are on the roofs, I think that might be wise.”

Menolly sent a firm command to her friends just as Merga rose to her haunches on Lord Groghe’s shoulder and added her voice to Beauty’s.

As the fire lizards’ descant rose above the harpers’ voices, Menolly was conscious of being the focus of startled attention. Lord Groghe was beaming with pride, a smug smile on his face, the fingers of one hand drumming the beat on the table while he waved the other as if he were directing the extemporaneous chorus.

Wild applause followed the song, and cries of “The Fire Lizard Song!” “Sing the Queen’s song!” “Does she know it?’ “Fire lizard!”

From the platform, Brudegan beckoned imperiously to Menolly.

“Go on, girl, what’s holding you back?” Lord flicked his fingers at her to obey the summons. “Want to hear you sing it. You wrote it. Ought to sing it. Shake yourself up, girl. Never heard of a harper not wanting to sing!”

Menolly appealed to Master Robinton, but the Harper had a wicked twinkle in his eyes, despite the bland expression on his face.

“You heard Lord Groghe, Menolly. And it’s time you did a turn as a harper!” She heard the emphasis on the last word. He rose, holding out his hand to her as if he knew very well how nervous she was. She’d no choice now, for to refuse would be to shame him, slight the Hall, and annoy Lord Groghe.

“I’ll accompany you, Menolly, if I may. You do remember the new wording?” Robinton asked as he handed her up to the platform.

She mumbled a hasty affirmative and then wondered if she did. She hadn’t actually sung the new words, or the tune, for that matter, since she’d composed it so very long ago in the little hall in Half-Circle Hold. But there was Brudegan, grinning a welcome, and gesturing to two gitar players to hand over their instruments to her and the Masterharper.

Menolly turned and saw all the faces, all the people massed on each side of the square. A hush fell, and into that attentive silence, the Harper struck the first chords of her fire lizard song. Master Shonagar’s oft-repeated advice flashed through her mind: “Stand straight, take your breath into your guts, shoulders back, open your mouth…and sing!”

The applause that greeted the final verse of the song was so deafening that Beauty rose on wing, squealing with surprised alarm. Then the crowd laughed and gradually the noise subsided.

“Sing something from your Sea Hold,” said the Master Harper in her ear as he played a few idle chords. “Something these landsmen might not have heard. You start: we’ll follow.”

The crowd was noisy, and Menolly wondered how she’d be heard, but as soon as she struck the first notes, the gather quieted. She used the chorus for introduction, giving the Masterharper the chording, and smiling, even as she sang, to find herself so well accompanied.

Over the applause when she finished, she heard the Masterharper saying right in her ear, “They’ve never heard that one before. Good choice.” He bowed, gestured for her to take a bow and then motioned to the harpers waiting just beyond the platform to start the second dance group.

Smiling and waving to various people, he led Menolly from the platform and back to the table where Lord Groghe was still enthusiastically clapping. Sebell grinned approvingly and rose to pass back to the Masterharper the very irritated little Zair.

Menolly would have preferred to sit down and recover from the surprise of her first public appearance as a harper and the warmth of the reception, but Talmor came up.

“You’ve done your duty by crafthall now, Menolly, let’s dance!” He spied Beauty on her shoulder. “But could she sit this one out? No telling how she’d misconstrue my man-handling you in a dance!”

The harpers had already struck a fast prance tune.

“Will she stay with me?” asked Sebell, offering his arm and a padded sleeve. “Zair didn’t mind too much…”

Menolly coaxed Beauty, who chattered with annoyance but allowed herself to be transferred to Sebell’s shoulder. Talmor, one arm about Menolly’s waist, swung her expertly and quickly into the whirling dancers.

After that, it seemed to Menolly that she’d no more than time to take a quick sip of wine to moisten her parched throat and reassure Beauty, before she was claimed by another partner. Viderian took her for the next set dance, with Talmor partnering Audiva in the same group. Then Brudegan caught her hand for a dance and, to her complete surprise, Domick after him. She acceded to Piemur’s boast that he could dance as well as any journeyman and master and wasn’t he her best friend, despite a lack of hands in height and Turns in age.

Quartets of singers spelled the dance players until Menolly was certain that every single harper must have performed. Both of the songs that Petiron had sent to the Harper were so frequently requested that Menolly writhed a bit with embarrassment until Sebell caught her eye, cocking an eyebrow and grinning at her discomfort.