Chapter 4
It was rapidly apparent that the class fell into those with real talent; and those without. Two boys not in the self-help group, Bargal and Jeem, progressed happily without it, Jeem exhibiting less than patience with the slower class members. Laghen was plainly the cleverest boy there and able to use his brains where his talent was not so great as Bargal and Jeem, which left him time to lark about in class. Doorm was one of the class leaders as well, but he at least tried to help his fellows. To her surprise, Meeri found the lesson easy, covering timing and extra marks above the stave to indicate slower, faster, quieter or louder music. The lesson involved singing a simple, well known song of Menolly's, putting in the instructions as written even though they were not normally used with this piece, the notation on the board and the instructions changed by the Master to obtain different renditions of it. The self-help group kept up fairly well, but a couple of the boys, Kimmet and Lantor, were having real trouble. It was on Lantor, the sensitive boy from Crom, that Master Morshal vented his irritation, snarling at him an shouting staccato questions that the boy had no hopes of answering so flustered had he become; while the rest were supposed to be copying out more notation from the board to learn.
Meeri scratched on a piece of paper from her pouch,
"squeak slate pencils in unison, pass it on"
Soon the apprentices were writing in a concerted rhythm, their pencils all squeaking loud enough to drown out Master Morshall's wrath.
The Master, livid, banged on his desk.
"KEEP that horrible noise down!" he roared.
"Sorry sir!" they all chorused.
The bell rang to change classes; it had at least been a small victory.
"C'mon Lantor, we have a little while in hand, we'll go over that" said Meeri "Won't we chaps?"
"Rather" said Laghen. "How can you NOT see it, Lan?"
Lantor's eyes started to fill again.
"Not you too!" he said bitterly.
"Heh, pothooks are a pain" said Meeri "You gotta learn the way they use funny words; same as people in different parts of Pern use different words for the same thing."
"DO they?" asked Lantor, interested out of his distress.
"Shards, yes! Lots of people say 'ferreting around' for searching; Benden say 'tunnelcatting' 'cos they call ferrets 'tunnelcats'; up north in the Reaches they say 'fossicking' and in Ruatha they 'Birl out'. So it's just the same as learning that 'andanty' is slow down and 'allegro' is fast. I just think of runnerbeasts: Allegro is a smooth sounding smooth racer but Andanty is a fat, lazy burro. If you remember that, the rest is easy."
"Oh THANK you Meer!" said Lantor "I never could think how to remember before!"
Meeri shrugged.
"Thank m'Cousin T'arla" she said. "She came up with it to help me with my struggle with directions and pothooks. I like the louder-softer signs; think of them as a mouth that's opening more for louder, or a wide one that's closing."
"What's the dot under the half circle?" Lantor wanted to know.
"Oh that's an eye under an eyebrow to wink at the conductor to let him know he can play silly so-and-so's" said Meeri "And have you hold the note as long as he feels like, regardless of how long it's written."
"Now THAT's a handy way to look at it" approved Dekello. "I vote we scrounge extra bubbly pies for Meer!"
"Seconded!" said Lantor. They went off laughing to gitar practice!
oOoOo
Gitar was not Meeri's favourite instrument, but she had been well drilled by her Harperweyr tutors, and was, besides, used to the quick changing of fingering on her fiddle. And she was glad that her fiddle lived in a dormitory regularly patrolled by firelizards. She had heard stories of dirty tricks and broken instruments, and it was the only link she had to a great grandfather she barely remembered but who had given her her first lessons on it at just four turns old. What she did recall was how he had made the fiddle sing; and remembering him she suddenly recalled him saying that he regretted that his father had never let him come to the Harper Hall!
She faltered suddenly in her gitar playing and earned a rebuke from the journeyman teaching the class.
After class it was Lantor's turn to show sympathy.
"What happened, Meer? Are you all right?" he asked.
Meeri nodded.
"My mind drifted to an old memory….it made me suddenly think some rather sad thoughts" she said "People can be wicked sometimes."
Lantor gave her a quick, scared look.
"Someone's tried to hurt you?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"Something one of my kin told me" she said "C'mon, I'm better now, let's get those bubbly pies!"
oOoOo
Meeri was young enough to let good food take the edge off her sour thoughts; and spent the afternoon playing her fiddle for yet another Journeyman, where she was quite transported and felt closer than ever to her great-grandfather.
Journeyman Bestor was quite startled at the verve and skill of his newest class member; he disliked changes and had given her deliberately a more difficult piece than the others were playing by way of punishment for daring to disrupt his routine; as no satisfactory reason, like illness, had been given for her late start.
As it happened he did Meeri a favour; she would have been bored and irritated by the pieces the others were tackling!
Impatient and occasionally unfair Bestor may have been; but he also loved his chosen instrument and knew when it was being played with instinctive virtuosity. He waited until Meeri had finished the piece and asked,
"Where would you normally be on the second period of this morning?"
"Gitar lesson sir" said Meeri.
"Are you particularly fond of gitar?" Bestor asked.
"No sir, I hate it" said Meeri honestly "I know it can have subtlety but I've yet to find any."
Bestor hid a smile, That mirrored his feelings too well – though the new child could not know that.
"Then I'll see Journeyman Teller and explain that you won't be in his class again" he said "You will report to Third Turn fiddle studies instead. Here's the music they are preparing; take it away and study it for next sevenday's lesson."
Meeri glanced down at the score and brightened.
"It's by Master Domick, isn't it?" she said.
Bestor was surprised.
"Yes it is. How did you know that, boy? It's not been performed yet!"
"Well I've heard other music by him and it's his style" said Meeri.
"Hmph" said Bestor, not at all displeased. "If you've picked THAT up this quickly you'll go far. Go away and practise it; I'll want you up to speed for next lesson. And the rest of you idle lot can TRY to struggle through some nursery songs for me" he added to remind the rest of the class that Meeri's virtuosity was not going to get them out of working!
oOoOo
Meeri took herself and the music up to Master Domick's room and knocked.
"Come" his deep voice called, and she entered.
He was alone.
"Meeri? Sent for discipline? Or in trouble already? I heard a slate pencil concert, was that your doing?"
Meeri grinned.
"Never confess if it can't be proven" she said glibly. "No, not trouble; I got told to join a different fiddle class and was sent away to practise new music…..I suppose there are practice rooms but I don't know where yet so I thought I'd be cheeky and ask if I could practise in here today. I know it's forbidden to do so in dormitories."
"And for good reason; or some youngsters would drive their fellows half Between sawing and scraping or twanging or squeaking their bad notes" Domick said. "There's something else, though, isn't there?" he added perceptively.
She nodded.
"I – I was so glad my great granddad, Bavol, gave me his fiddle: his father stopped him from coming to the Harper Hall an oh, Master Domick, what a waste, 'cos he could make it TALK!" she said "And – and my father said, if I let those Harpers at the Weyr teach me Harper tricks I was no daughter of his!"
"It still goes on then" said Domick sadly.
"I – please, I went to the Weyr on the pretext of Search, I belong to the Weyr don't I? It's for T'bor to order my future, not my father? That IS the law isn't it?"
Domick nodded.
"For those taken on Search between the ages of twelve and Fourteen Turns the Weyr is their guardian. It is also the right of any individual over the age of twelve turns to seek acceptance of the Weyr OR APPRENTICESHIP. As the apprenticeship has been accepted, your father cannot lawfully stop you from choosing your path nor take you from it. You belong not to the WEYR now actually, but to the Harper Hall where your apprenticeship has been lawfully transferred for the period of your training. This is your RIGHT and is laid down in the Charter – along with your responsibility to do as well as you can do for your craft and accept lawful discipline from those higher in the craft. Ask Master Arnor if you may see the Charter when you go to study with him; you are required to learn its clauses in broad even if not by heart, for they are also embedded in such teaching songs as the Duty Song" he said, putting an awkward arm about her shoulders to comfort her, because she was crying tears of grief, relief, and shame for her family.
"Is it so wrong to hate my father?" she whispered.
"No child. Not when he tries to take away what you are; as he tried to poison T'arla's mind and nearly spoiled HER chances" said Domick. "Now then! You'll make the floor damp if you cry much more and while Master Robinton may be a good sailor, I am not!"
That sally coaxed a smile from Meeri.
"May – may I play to practise in here?" she asked.
"Do" he said.
He was not prepared for what she was playing; and listened dumfounded to the trueness of her rendition in spirit, if off on the occasional note.
"How long did you study this?" he asked when she had finished.
"Oh I glanced all through it on the way up the stairs" said Meeri "It's wonderful now I can READ music, it was worth slogging my guts out over that hard seven or eight sevendays."
"Do you mean to tell me you've learned to read music well enough to play that in less than two months?" Domick asked.
"Big incentive" she said, tossing her curly head. "Have I done it so wrong then?" she asked, suddenly anxious.
"My dear child, you did it better than some here who have been reading music for TURNS" he said. "Yes, you were inaccurate in this passage here" he pointed it out "And on the pizzicato passage; but practice will sort that out."
"But it's your music and it's so logical and beautiful" said Meeri.
"How do you know it's mine? That copy's not marked" he said sharply.
"It feels like yours. Like the Oldtimer thing" said Meeri.
"Incredible" he shook his head. "Incredible. And incredible that your fool of a father should….. but then there are fools of fathers all over, Journeyman Menolly's included."
"And Lyseder's grandfather, and Mi'a's parents and if you come to that, Carlinna's parents only backwards for giving only praise and no constructive criticism to her drawing; and then there's C'lara's bovine headed father. I really don't think people ought to be allowed to be parents without a certificate of competency" she added.
Domick laughed.
"But they'd have to train on some poor child…. Besides, what do you call competent? Plenty can feed and clothe and see to the needs of their children; to recognise extraordinary emotional needs required, I suppose, extraordinary parents."
"I like the Weyr way of fostering people with those of similar interests and encouraging secondary skills" said Meeri.
"It does seem to have its merits" said Domick, dryly. "Those brought up in a crafthall are expected to have talent too and are supposed to absorb knowledge through the skin almost…."
"Doesn't always work, though, does it sir? Else Corbret would head our class for being bred here and Jaynor would be a potter."
"And stupid parents still abound, to push too hard or conversely to get jealous of a child's ability" said Domick dryly "No system is perfect; the Charter recognises the Right of anyone old enough to choose to move between Hold, Craft and Weyr. And that is why. Trouble is, with Harpers discouraged in the Long Interval, for, er, 'singing lies' about the return of Thread, and actually attacked by Fax's men, we have still not re-established the level of education of the previous Pass; and I mean general standards of education, never mind knowledge of rights and duties. Once all were literate."
"And that's what we're supposed to do, isn't it? raise the standard of education? Does – does that mean my duty will be to return to living Holdless to train my kin?"
Domick stared.
"Great shells, no, child! It would be a waste of your composing – and performing – talents! Any moderately competent Journeyman Harper could do that; I have FAR greater plans for you!"
She looked apprehensive.
"Now I'm scared that the potential you see won't pan out and that I'll let you down" she said reproachfully. "I'm old to start here, I know that, I'm Turned fourteen, you know. I've got a lot to catch up on."
"Not so much as you may think. You may bring your fiddle up to me to practise that piece, and if you like you may leave it here and draw a practice one until you have built an adequate second instrument."
She brightened.
"Oh may I? how KIND you are, Master Domick!" she flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
"HRRUMPH! Now then!" he said "Cheeky brat, and you expect to be taken for a boy when you do girlie things like that hey?"
She dropped back, her expression closed.
"I – I'm sorry."
He flicked her cheek with a gentle and apologetic finger.
"I didn't mean to upset you, Meeri!" he said hastily "I'm just teasing – and pointing out that it's unwise to let your pose as a boy slip even in private, hmm? Besides, I do have SOME dignity to maintain" he added.
She smiled hesitantly at him, and he smiled back.
"I'll come again when I have a free period then?" she asked.
"No, come after the evening meal; I know I've no pupils then. I'll probably be working while you practise, and only notice if you go wrong" he said, firmly maintaining distance.
The poor child seemed as though she had been starved of affection; but it would not do to let her make a substitute father of him. Certainly not until she had established herself as his own apprentice!