Melforger (The Melforger Chronicles) Read Online Free Page B

finance it.” He sighed. “Funny thing really. It used to be about the music when I was your age. All you needed were a few people with instruments, and the rest took care of itself.”
    Raf looked down at the floor. He knew what was coming.
    “I’m assuming you’re still not interested in playing if the Festival goes ahead?”
    “Dad, I don’t mind getting up there with the others to do something, but there’s no way I’m going to stand there singing by myself or prat around on an instrument.”
    His father shrugged. “Your mother will be disappointed. You know how she wants you to be the next musician journeyman.”
    “Probably the next Foreman as well,” muttered Raf.
    “You can’t be too angry with her. She only wants the best for you. And she has a lot of pride; remember, your grandfather’s a Foreman. The bar was set quite high, unfortunately.”
    “But I’m not interested in it all.”
    “But you used to be so confident with singing when you were Rio’s age. What happened?”
    “Nothing happened. It’s just… well, I don’t enjoy it anymore. Not really. Nobody does. Except for the old villagers, and they’re probably all deaf anyway.” He scowled. “Ned has the same thing when he plays the lute.”
    “Tovier?”
    “Yeah. Everyone laughs at him when he plays. He hates it, but with his dad being in the Council, too... The second he finishes school, he’ll probably take that stupid lute and throw it down a burial chute.”
    “It’s a pity; he’s very good.”
    “Maybe, but playing a lute isn’t exactly… well - did you know that some guys our age in Miern are apparently already in the Gerent’s Guard? Some of them are even journeymen. And Cisco’s brother met a boat captain in Sayenham who was only fifteen! Eirdale’s… well, it just seems so lame.”
    “Well, our lives are different. For a start, we don’t have an army - or a need for one, thankfully. And boats are a little hard to come by up here in the tree-tops.” Tarvil paused. “Do you even know what you’d like to do?”
    Raf shook his head and threw a stick at the ground. “Not really. I’m not really that good at anything. Maybe a canopy-farmer?”
    “Harvesting? It’s hardly ambitious, Raf.”
    “But it’s important, right? We need the food. And we need people who are good at getting it. It may not be high-ranking in mom’s book, but someone has to do it, right?”
    His father laughed out loud. “Tell you what, son, I’ll let you tell her you’re giving up the dream to be a woodsmith or Foreman so you can pick mulberries all day.”
    “It’s not my dream.”
    “True.” His father looked fondly at him, patting his shoulder. “So, what about your sojourn? Given any thought to that yet?”
    “Yeah,” said Raf. “I was going to ask you about it actually. I think I’ll skip the redwoods up north. Trent Brunnow went last year and I’d like to do something different. The amount he’s talked about it, I feel like I went with him, anyway.”
    “So you’re thinking of a trek south? The mountains? I hope you’re ready for the cold. You’ve never seen snow. It’s colder than you can possibly imagine! And someti-”
    “No, not south. Or east.”
    Tarvil opened his mouth and then closed it. Clearing his throat with a quick cough, he turned to face Raf.
    “I’d just like to make this plain and clear. Firstly, personally, I think it’s a terrible idea. Sure it may be where I did my sojourn, but that was a long time ago and things were completely different. It was smaller than it is now, and the old Gerent was still in power. He seemed much friendlier than the new one.” He held up his hand to cut off Raf who was trying to butt in. “Secondly, I’d like to know where I can buy tickets to watch you tell your mother.” He laughed loudly, genuinely; and then, mimicking Raf’s voice, said, “Mom, not only am I never going to be something as good as you want, but I’m also going to go to