Chapter 10
There were no repercussions from Master Olodkey's feathered drum, or even any 'reaped percussions' as Laghen punned outrageously.
The culprits were a mystery to the outraged master, though the grapevine told of Olodkey raging at the Masterharper and demanding that all the boys be put on water rations until those involved confessed!
"But the Masterharper don't do collective punishments" grinned Ferry, who was passing on this titbit of news to his friends in the dormitory; and Meeri sat still and quiet behind the screens with Dorasha, listening for all she was worth. Ferry went on, "he says it's against the Charter, and we all know how keen is Master Robinton about the Charter!"
There were murmurs of agreement, grammatical mangling of the statement notwithstanding.
"Any idea who did it?" asked Kerill "I mean, it'd be our style if he'd hurt one of our own, and I must say I was tempted to break out and do something seeing as he'd broken Meeri's hand, let along given her such a shiner; but I didn't think of stuffing his favourite thing with feathers."
Ferry chuckled.
"I'd lay odds on Vaek to be involved," he said, "but I'm not going to make any wild guesses! They might get back if Lisend got bullied enough" he nodded to the boy who specialised in drum.
"Ferry! I do NOT squeal!" said Lisend, indignantly. "He did ask me and all the others if we had done it or knew who did. He was in a fearful bate" – there were sounds of whoops of laughter muffled by a well bitten pillow as he recalled the scene – "there we were, expecting to go BOOM! And all it would say was phut!" he rolled around laughing again.
"Nice sort of Master that can make his top apprentices happy to laugh at him" murmured Stev.
"Lisend's good enough at drumming and quiet enough to keep out of trouble; but most of them at the drum heights are bullies" said Ferry, quietly. "Attitudes come from the top, you know. One or two rotten apples happen in any place, but when all but one of the drum Journeymen and most of the senior apprentices are ready to do others down, there's something wrong. Hearty types for the most part who can't tell when ragging ends and bullying begins; but it should be stepped on quickly and quietly. The sooner he retires or drops dead and Rokayas takes over the better. Rokayas is strict but he's fair enough."
There were murmurs of assent over that. Rokayas was not popular but he was well respected.
"I wish I'd seen it" said Anslas. "no BOOM! Just a phut… love it!"
So did Meeri.
She repeated the conversation to her co-conspirators on the morrow, and they rolled about laughing.
The mirth was interrupted as Meeri was struck suddenly by the feeling of impending sadness emanating from Snatch; he and Clayboy had stiffened, as though listening for something beyond the hearing of human ears.
Then it started and the little firelizards joined in, keening in their treble voices alongside the dragons. The duty dragon let out a high, sad ululation and the voices of every firelizard in the Harper Hall added their descants. Echoing across the volcanic rim of the Weyr came the distant and eerie sound of dragons mourning.
"Fanna dies" said Meeri, softly.
The tune had to be written down; even though it made her cry to write it.
oOoOo
It was several days later that F'lar and Mnementh arrived, the Weyrleader looking personally for the Masterharper, and Vaek managed to overhear some of the conversation.
"D'ram's disappeared" he told the others "F'lar is afraid he's gone enough back in time to suicide so it won't upset the dragons. Do dragons keen for ALL dragons, Meer?" he asked.
"As I understand it, clutchmates always keen one another; Weyrs tend to grieve one of their own whatever. But only senior Bronzes and any Queen get the attention of all the Weyrs, 'cos with old age and Thread accidents they'd keen at least once a month else" said Meeri. "But he IS a senior Bronze and however far back he went, Benden was always there and he'd know that. I don't think he's suicided. Besides, who'd deliberately make his dragon die? I couldn't do anything to hurt Snatch, and it's less strong, I'm told than DRAGON Impression."
"So they're going to look for him?" asked Dekello. "Wouldn't it be more sensible to turn out the Weyrs to overfly everywhere?"
Meeri snorted.
"F'lar wants Master Robinton's brains to work out where and when D'ram's gone, if he can" she said "They can't overfly every time from now back to the last Pass! He'd probably ask T'lana rather than the Masterharper but I – but I heard that she'd had a slight disagreement with Lessa, and F'lar's not tactless enough to worry his Weyrwoman until they've made up."
"There's more to that than you're saying" said Vaek. "C'mon, Meer, give it up!"
"Shan't either" said Meeri "'Cos I promised my cousin to keep it to myself, it being Weyr business."
"Shells, an honour matter! We can't rag him then!" said Laghen in disgust.
Laghen's honour was at least as strong as the stuffy Cobret's in his own way; and Meeri was glad that he'd be immovable on that and would stand by her however much her more volatile friends cajoled!
oOoOo
The drums told of D'ram's safe return within days; and Meeri was glad. Far more momentous to some of her friends, however, were the postings; particularly for those who had been there a whole turn already. The postings told who was to be confirmed as an apprentice, who might be likely to be asked to leave as insufficiently talented – or hard working – in any Harper skill; also those who – rarely – might be given an extension on the usual turn permitted to confirm.
"The Harper Hall tries to find talent of some kind in everyone," Vaek explained, "but so many people come just because they think it's a soft option and they like music and they just don't make the grade in anything."
"cough Irtul cough" coughed Laghen.
"Well yes" said Vaek. "Though the reason there are extensions is for when the Masters think someone might pull up their game with a second chance. And maybe he will."
"Poor old Irtul" said Meeri, in a moment's compassion. "He's such a dunce at everything, and I bet he chose to come here because he's so unhandy! I should think he was even failing at being a cotholder's son."
"Don't waste too much sympathy on him" said Jaynor. "Our resident genius, Laghen here, and Doorm too, offered to bring him on in the self-help group if we could get some poor sap – that's Yathel – to organise it, and Irtul turned it down. "
"That is rather poor spirited of him" admitted Meeri. "Y'can't help them as won't help themselves."
"Exactly" said Vaek. "That's why I'm hoping Gwetul and Timmis will be confirmed. Journeyman Horgey – H'gey I should say as he is now – started helping them you know, before he Impressed; he had eight backward ones, though you'd not think now that Braid was among them, would you? He's confirmed for sure, 'cos he got promoted up to join the second turners for HIS hard work. But Gwetul and Timmis are plodders you know; no brilliance to add to that hard work. So I hope they get confirmed."
"You've kept them up in class though?" asked Meeri.
"Oh yes, no trouble" said Vaek.
She shrugged.
"Shouldn't be a problem then," she said, "though we'll cross our fingers and hold our thumbs and do all the other daft things people do for luck that don't change the outcome of the Masters' decision but make the Masters' little victims feel better."
"Cynic" said Vaek.
"I'm getting old. I feel cynical" said Meeri. Her fifteenth birthday was fast approaching; and she was realising with a jolt that she was really a young woman. Larking about with the younger kids was fun – and in the case of irritating Master Olodkey mightily satisfying – but she had need to think about her future. "I – I'm older than you kids though I'm not that big" she said "And I guess I feel I ought to be putting my back to the wheel so to speak. Would that offend you? I hope not."
"Like Braid" nodded Vaek. "He likes some fun but he needs to work. Hey, we'll help all we can, won't we, chaps, even if only by duffing up types who want to stop you working."
"Yeah, I guess so" said Laghen. He was still smarting under a dressing down from Master Domick for having drilled a hole in the junior class sand tray, plugged it with a cork, and then tweaked the cork away just before the lesson started. The sand had dragged away the lessons of Dekello and Jeam before their eyes, and it had been a while before Master Morshall would believe them that their writing was disappearing! Domick had overheard Laghen laughing about it with Jaynor and had asked him pointedly if he enjoyed bullying boys who found studying harder than he did; and indeed if he intended to study himself or if he preferred to waste his fertile brain on puerile tricks.
Laghen had been shocked to see it looked on as bullying, and had begged pardon of the two boys involved without being prompted. He did NOT ask forgiveness of Master Morshall.
The boys had forgiven him readily – having enjoyed the look on the dour masters face as their writing literally drained away before his eyes – but it made Laghen think.
"I don't want to give up fun" he said "But I expect I ought to work harder."
"And I need to" said Jaynor sadly. "Without you in class, either of you, Laghen and Meer, it's less fun and harder."
"Why, we must carry on working with the self help group!" said Meeri. "We've neglected you lot for the private study Master Domick sets – but it will do us no harm to revise stuff too."
"Would you? Thanks awfully!" said Jaynor. "I really don't want to fail, and half a turn's gone!"
"Course we'll hoe in and help!" said Laghen "Meer's right!"
oOoOo
Gwetul and Timmis were delighted to be confirmed when the postings were made! It heartened Jaynor, for he knew they were no better than indifferent musicians by nature and that he was marginally more talented than they. But the Unwholesome Trio and friends had actually decided to seriously turn their brains to work as well as play!
Master Domick noticed.
"You three have grown up" he said "Especially Meer."
"Can't go through life with nothing but kicks and giggles" said Meeri. "It was good having a chance to get some childhood and play games, but we're none of us getting any younger and we need to decide if we're Harpers or wastrels."
Domick surveyed her thoughtfully, and nodded.
"Well if you three put just half your talent into Harping as you have into pranks I think you'll all make Journeymen without difficulty" he said. "Knowing how much you had to catch up, Meer, I'm particularly impressed."
Meeri flushed in pleasure at the praise.
"Thank you sir" she said.
oOoOo
Domick decided that it would be a good idea for Meeri to begin her studies in gitar again; and told her so firmly. She looked dismayed.
"You mean give up working with the violin and go back to twanging instead?" she sounded horrified.
"No, a thousand times NO to giving up violin!" said Domick. "I will bring you on in gitar….it's an instrument most Holds have and you're like to have their best, such as it is, thrust into your hands with a request that you play dancing and singing music when you're travelling around – as you may find yourself doing when you make Journeyman. And I'd like to see a turn or two's good practice on you, for I can't see you being more than two turns making Journeyman at the rate you're going."
Meeri pulled a face, the pleasure of Domick's assessment of her likely progression being secondary to her dislike of gitar.
"If I've irritated you, couldn't you just spank me or put me on water rations rather than make me do that? she asked, so dolefully and with such a tragicomic face the Tunemaster had to laugh.
"Trust me, the gitar has more subtlety than you could believe; I'll teach you" he said.
"Through Fall, Fire and Fog I go to meet my fate, oh cruel Master" said Meeri.
"Sit down, shut up and start with a 'G'. You got that far, didn't you?" said Domick.
Meeri sighed, and complied. She knew much of the simple fingering; Dorasha was passionately fond of the gitar since H'gey had restrung hers for her left handedness and had been known to rehearse chords in her sleep as well as leaving music lying about with new chords scrawled in the box charts. Meeri considered it child's play to picture them for a right handed player and to recall them.
"You're doing very well" said Domick, pleased.
"I still don't have to like it, sir" said Meeri, stubbornly.
Domick surveyed her, his lips pursed in thought. Technically this was colossal cheek; but he recognised it as really no more than Meeri's innate honesty and refusal to be hypocritical.
"I wonder if I can change your mind" he said, going to cupboard and getting out another gitar. A sure touch checked it was in tune, gitars having a tendency to drift off tune by the stretching of the strings; then he sat and played. The gitar sang under his sure fingers.
Meeri was entranced; and her eyes shone as he laid it aside.
"I never knew it could be like that!" she whispered. "Why, it quite sends shivers up and down my spine!"
"Pleasurable ones I hope," said Domick dryly, "and not the sort I have trying not to listen to Irtul trying to play the violin."
"That's more like slate pencils on slate" shuddered Meeri. "I keep wanting to ask him to pour fellis into it and put the poor thing out of its misery!"
Domick guffawed at that.
"Few instruments sound worse when ineptly played than the fiddle," he said, "though horns come close!"
"Oh Dek says you can put up with horns if you imagine them as a herd of porcines fed on too many brassicas" said Meeri cheerfully. "He reckons we ought to try to set light to them."
"Yes, and he also, I'm told, holds the theory that if bovines could be persuaded to turn their backs on Thread while someone held a brand, they could sear it out of the sky three elbowlenghts before it hit the ground" said Domick. "Earthy lad, Dekello."
"Someone's got to be" said Meeri. "It did inspire me to write…." She blushed.
"What? Show me!" he demanded.
Scarlet, she fished around in her bag.
Domick read through 'The Farting Chorus', tapping the beat with one hand. He grinned.
"It'd go down well at a Gather" he said. "It's got rhythm, it's a good piece, and it's original. It may not be great music but it's well worth working up. If I were you I'd call it the 'Flatulence Fantasia' as it'll offend the tender feelings of some of our Journeymen less."
She flashed him a grin.
"Well, if you think it's worth it…. it started life being about Dek's greased porcine and got the concept of the horns added later."
"Greased Porcine?" Domick was puzzled. "Did I miss something?"
"Oops, didn't you know? We bet on him at the Spring Gather; he won and then he sold it. I never thought he'd win, you know, but it seemed rather poor spirited not to support him with a quarter mark each."
Domick shook his head.
"Greased porcines? Whatever next!" he said. "I hope it's not given you a taste for gambling? It's a mug's game."
Meeri shook her head.
"Oh! No! it was only 'cos it was Dek. I know FAR too many ways of mucking with the gees to ever bet on runnerbeasts, and the only people who play cards for money know something you don't."
"Good girl!" he approved. "Why, it's your bedtime already – you'd better run!"
Meeri ran, feeling happier about the gitar than she had previously been.