Anne McCaffrey - Dragonsinger

“Do masters always stay in the Hall?”

“Shells, no. There are any number assigned to the larger Holds and Crafthalls. You’ll see. Ah, Dermently, just a moment…” and Domick signaled the journeyman who was about to leave by another door at the far end of the Archive’s well-lit hall.

Menolly just had time to get to her room with an armload of supplies and off to the dining hall before everyone sat down. It was true that Master Jerint and Master Arnor wore expressions of sullen discontent. She wondered who was leaving. But she had no time to speculate. There was dinner, and then her lesson.

No sooner was she released by Master Shonagar than she returned to her copying, this time of “The Fire Lizard Song.” At first she felt awkward copying her own music, then she began to relish the notion. Her songs, going inland so that people would get some understanding of seaside creatures that had once been thought to be pure invention. That lovely old sea song, one she’d heard at Half-Circle since her first conscious appreciation of music, was a fine one to teach inland people how the seaman regards the broad ocean.

Domick’s attitude toward her music had been reassuring, too, It was a relief to her to know that there was no awkwardness between them. He thought her songs were serving a purpose, and that suited and pleased her.

It was, Menolly thought, one thing to work hard day in and day out to bring in food enough to feed oneself, one’s family and one’s Hold; it was quite another thing, and vastly more satisfying, to provide comfort for other lonely minds and tuneless hearts. Yes, Master Robinton and T’gellan had been right: she did belong in the Harper Hall.

Before she realized how time had flown, it was evening. She carefully put away her instruments, the ink and the unused sheets, delivered the music to Master Domick’s room, and went to the kitchen level to feed her friends.

Beauty and the bronzes were crowded round her when, though scarcely sated, they suddenly looked skyward. Beauty crooned softly in her throat. Rocky and Diver answered, as if agreeing with her, then all three again demanded food.

“What was all that about?” asked Piemur.

Menolly shrugged.

“Will you look at that?” Piemur cried, excitedly, pointing skyward as three, then four, dragons appeared in the sky, slowly circling down to the wide fields. “And your fire lizards knew! D’you realize that, Menolly? Your fire lizards knew there were dragons coming.”

“Why would dragons be coming?” Menolly asked, and that lump of fear grew a few sizes larger. “It isn’t time for Threadfall again, is it?” She doubted that Lord Sangel would send dragonriders to discipline a mere apprentice.

“I told you,” and Piemur sounded exasperated with her obtuseness. “The masters were closeted yesterday and today, reassigning journeymen. So,” and he shrugged as if that explained the presence of dragonriders, “the dragons transport them to the new holds. Two blues, a green, and…hey…a bronze!” He was impressed. “I wonder who rates the bronze!”

Now the Fort Hold watch dragon bugled a welcome and was answered by the circling beasts. Beauty and the other fire lizards added their trill of greeting.

“Oh, no,” Piemur groaned. “They’re landing in the field, and we just got it cleaned up!”

“Dragons are not runner beasts,” said Menolly in a tart voice. “And don’t stuff Lazy, Rocky and Mimic so fast. They’ll choke. You’ll see the dragonriders soon enough, I expect, if they’re coming here for the journeymen.”

Piemur was not the only apprentice with sharp eyes. Soon the courtyard was spotted with groups of curious lads. The dragonriders strode out of the shadows of the arch, and Menolly distinguished the colors of Istan, Igen, Telgar and Benden Weyrs on the dragonriders' tunics. And none of them a watch-dragonrider wearing the colors of Boll. Then she recognized the Benden dragonrider as T'gellan.

“Menolly! I’ve got ’em for you,” he shouted across the courtyard, waving an oddly shaped mass above his head. He spoke to his companions, who continued onward to the steps of the Hall where Domick, Talmor and Sebell waited to greet the dragonmen. T’gellan then strode at an oblique angle toward Menolly. As he neared her, she realized that he carried a pair of boots by their laces: boots tanned blue with cuffs of blue-hued wild wherry down.

“Here you are, Menolly! Felena was in a state, worrying that those light slippers would wear out before you got these. I see the toes are going, aren’t they? Keeping you on ’em here, are they? But you’re looking good. Say, your fire lizards are growing, aren’t they?” He beamed approvingly at Menolly, then at Camo and Piemur, whose eyes were enormous at this proximity to a real bronze dragonrider. “Glad you’ve got some help.”

“This is Piemur and that’s Camo, and they’ve been marvelous help.”

“Will this lad be ready for a fire lizard then?” asked T’gellan with a sly wink at Menolly.

“Why do you think he’s helping me?” asked Menolly, unable to resist teasing Piemur.

“Aw, Menolly.” Unexpectedly Piemur was blushing, eyes downcast and so thoroughly out of countenance that Menolly relented.

“Truly, T’gellan, Piemur’s been a staunch and true friend since the first day I got here. I couldn't manage without him and Camo.

“Camo feed pretties. Camo very good feeding pretties!”

T’gellan gave her a startled look, but he slapped the drudge affectionately on the back. “Good man, Camo. You keep on helping Menolly with her pretties.”

“More food for pretties? Camo perked up. “No, no more now, Camo. Pretties aren’t hungry now,” Menolly said hurriedly.

“‘Have you finished with Camo yet, Menolly?” Abuna appeared at the kitchen door, “Oh!” She was startled to see the company her half-witted drudge was keeping.

“Camo help Abuna now. Pretties fed, Camo. You help Abuna!”

Menolly gave Camo the customary turn and push toward the kitchen.

“Now, Menolly, you sit there, on the steps,” said T’gellan pointing, “and try these boots on. Felena gave me explicit instructions that I was to see if they fit. Because if they don’t…” T’gellan left the threat hanging.

“They ought to: the Weyr tanner took my measure…” said Menolly as she discarded the worn slippers and put on the right boot. “I don’t see how he could miss, even if my feet were still a bit swollen. Oh, it fits! It fits just fine. And so soft inside. Why,” and she put her hand the left boot, “he’s lined it with soft hide…”

“You’ll need the double protection, Menolly,” said T’gellan, and then his face took on a look of pure mischief, “particularly if you do any more running…”

“I’m not running anywhere anymore,” she said firmly. And hastily forgot about Lord Sangel and Pona. “Please thank Felena, and give my love to Mirrim, and thank Manora and everyone…”

“Hey, hey, I just got here. I’m not going anywhere yet. I’ll see you before I go, but I’d better join the others now.”

“And a dragonrider…a bronze dragonrider brings you blue harper boots…” Piemur’s eyes were enormous with astonishment as they both watched T’gellan’s lanky figure striding toward the Hall entrance.

“I don’t suppose they wanted to waste leather they’d already cut to fit me when they thought I’d be staying on in the Weyr,” Menolly said, nonetheless deeply touched by the gift. She wiggled her toes against the smooth soft hide. She wouldn’t need to bother Silvina for new footwear now. And harper blue! Why, she was harper-garbed from head to toe now,

The supper bell rang, and the curious knots of boys and journeymen blended into a throng, converging at various speeds on the steps. Along the walls opposite the dining hall as she and Piemur entered, Menolly saw backsacks and instrument cases.