Masterharper of Pern Read Online Free Page A

instrumentalists—not as expert as those he was accustomed to playing with, but good enough, and, more importantly, willing enough to add to the evening’s entertainment. He also acquired variants of ballads and airs that were traditional with the smaller holders but unknown to him. He jotted those down. Some of them were quite sophisticated and he wondered which was original: the Harper Hall’s versions or those that had been passed down through generations in the holds.
    One of the most nostalgic ballads—about the Crossing—could indeed be turned into an instrumental piece, starting with the basic melody, haunting enough, and then embellishments added. To transcribe this, Petiron acquired enough of some of the reed-based writing material that was a local product. It had a tendency to absorb so much ink that his scores were a bit blotchy, but he could amend that when he got back to the Harper Hall. He had always prided himself on his musical memory.
     
    They reached Pierie Hold halfway through the morning of the twenty-first day of travel, even with a full two-day halt at Merelan’s home hold. She had a chance to see her family, to exchange news and see all the new babies and congratulate the recent pairings—and to show off Robinton.
    Petiron was warmly received by the aunt and uncle who had reared Merelan when her own parents had died in one of the fierce autumnal storms that battered the western coastline. He was truly amazed at the number of really fine, if untrained, voices that her hold had produced.
    “Not one of them but can’t carry a tune,” he told her after the first evening. “Which aunt did you say gave you your first training?”
    “Segoina,” she said, smiling at his astonishment.
    “That contralto?”
    She nodded.
    He whistled appreciatively.
    “She insisted that I be sent to the Harper Hall,” Merelan said with considerable humility. “She ought to have gone, but she’d already espoused Dugall and wouldn’t leave him.”
    “And wasted that glorious voice on a hold . . .” Petiron rather contemptuously indicated the sprawling redstone dwellings that comprised the hold.
    “Segoina has never wasted her talent,” Merelan said a bit stiffly.
    “I didn’t mean it that way, Mere, and you know it,” Petiron replied hastily. He had seen the genuine respect and love that existed between the two women. “But she’d have been a Mastersinger . . .”
    “Not everyone would find that as productive as we do, Petiron,” she said gently but so firmly that Petiron saw he would offend her with further comment. Indeed, she thought wryly, remembering Rochers, the woodsie, not every Pernese approved of harpers.
    When they were settling into Pierie Hold, his misgivings about this assignment returned. There were only three rooms for their quarters: the baby would have to sleep in with them, at the foot of the bed which took up nearly all the room, though there were storage compartments cut into the rear wall of the cliff. The larger room was clearly for daily affairs, including kitchen work, with an outer wall hearth. The third was more of a cubicle than a room and served the purpose of toilet and bath, though Merelan said gaily that most everyone bathed in the sea. Petiron gazed askance at the flight of steps that led down to a sandy crescent of a beach where some of the hold’s fishing sloops were moored.
    He was soon to learn that people here were more accustomed to doing everything outside, either in the wide open patio where various workstations were situated, or under the shade of a vine-covered arbor larger than all the individual accommodations put together. There were even two sections fenced off for toddlers and the slightly older children, complete with a little pond where they could safely wade, sand to play in, and a rather extensive collection of toys. Already, Robinton was tottering about carrying one of the stuffed toys.
    “That can’t be a dragon he’s been playing with, is