Read Online Dragonriders of Pern 6 - Dragondrums by Anne McCaffrey - Free Book Online
Authors: Anne McCaffrey
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all too well.”
The Harper gestured for him to continue, and the day’s events made good telling with the best of all audiences in the Masterharper, who listened intently without a single interruption. He then asked Piemur to repeat, this time questioning a detail here, a response there, and extracting from Piemur every nuance of the confrontation of Miner and Oldtimer. He laughed appreciatively at Piemur’s strategy and lauded his caution of putting the four cut gems in his boots. It was only then that Piemur remembered to hand the precious stones to the Harper. The sun sparkled off the facets as the sapphires lay on the table.
“I’ll have a word with Master Nicat myself. And I think I’ll see him today,” said Robinton, holding up one of the gems between thumb and forefinger and squinting at it in the sunlight. “Beautiful workmanship! Not a flaw!”
“That’s what the Miner said,” and then Piemur daringly added. “I gather it’s not easy to find the right blues for masterharpers.”
Master Robinton regarded Piemur, a startled expression on his face, which changed to amusement. “You will keep that to yourself as well, young man!”
Piemur nodded solemnly. “Of course, if I’d had a fire lizard of my own, you wouldn’t have had to worry about me and the stones, and perhaps something could have been done about T’ron.”
The Harper’s face altered and the flash in his eyes had nothing to do with amusement. Now Piemur couldn’t imagine what had prompted him to say such a thing. He didn’t even dare look away from the Harper’s severe gaze, although he wanted more than anything else to creep away and hide from his Master’s disapproval. He did stiffen, fully expecting a blow for such impertinence.
“When you can keep your wits about you as you did yesterday, Piemur,” said Master Robinton after an interminable interval, “you prove Menolly’s good opinion of your potential. You have also just proved the main criticism that Hall masters have expressed. I do not disapprove of ambition, nor the ability to think independently, but,” and suddenly his voice lost the cold displeasure, “presumption is unforgivable. Presuming to criticize a dragonrider is the most dangerous offense against discretion. Further,” and the Harper’s finger was raised in warning, “you are rushing toward a privilege you have by no means earned. Now, off with you to Master Olodkey and learn the proper drum measure for ‘Oldtimer.’ ”
The kindly note in his tone was almost too much for Piemur, who could more easily have borne blows and a tirade for his transgressions. He made his way to the door as fast as his leaden legs could bear him.
“Piemur!” Robinton’s voice checked him as he fumbled for the latch. “You did handle yourself very well at the Minehold. Only do,” and the Harper sounded as resigned as Master Shonagar often had, “do please try to guard your quick tongue!”
“Oh, sir, I’ll try as hard as I can, really I will!” His voice cracked ignominiously, and he spun around the door so that the Harper wouldn’t see the tears of shame and relief in his eyes.
He stood for a moment in the quiet hall, intensely grateful that it was empty at this time of day as he conquered dismay at his untimely insolence. The Harper was so right: he had to learn to think before he spoke; he never should have blurted out that unfortunate criticism of dragonriders. He’d’ve rated a right sound beating from any other Master. Domick wouldn’t have hesitated a moment, nor even languid Master Shonagar, whose hand he’d felt many a time for his brashness. But how had he dared criticize dragonriders, even Oldtimers, to Master Robinton? Certainly that took the prize for impudence, even from him.
Piemur shivered and vowed fervently to mind his thoughts and, even more carefully, his tongue. Particularly now, when he did know something of real significance. For he had been aware, previous to his
The Harper gestured for him to continue, and the day’s events made good telling with the best of all audiences in the Masterharper, who listened intently without a single interruption. He then asked Piemur to repeat, this time questioning a detail here, a response there, and extracting from Piemur every nuance of the confrontation of Miner and Oldtimer. He laughed appreciatively at Piemur’s strategy and lauded his caution of putting the four cut gems in his boots. It was only then that Piemur remembered to hand the precious stones to the Harper. The sun sparkled off the facets as the sapphires lay on the table.
“I’ll have a word with Master Nicat myself. And I think I’ll see him today,” said Robinton, holding up one of the gems between thumb and forefinger and squinting at it in the sunlight. “Beautiful workmanship! Not a flaw!”
“That’s what the Miner said,” and then Piemur daringly added. “I gather it’s not easy to find the right blues for masterharpers.”
Master Robinton regarded Piemur, a startled expression on his face, which changed to amusement. “You will keep that to yourself as well, young man!”
Piemur nodded solemnly. “Of course, if I’d had a fire lizard of my own, you wouldn’t have had to worry about me and the stones, and perhaps something could have been done about T’ron.”
The Harper’s face altered and the flash in his eyes had nothing to do with amusement. Now Piemur couldn’t imagine what had prompted him to say such a thing. He didn’t even dare look away from the Harper’s severe gaze, although he wanted more than anything else to creep away and hide from his Master’s disapproval. He did stiffen, fully expecting a blow for such impertinence.
“When you can keep your wits about you as you did yesterday, Piemur,” said Master Robinton after an interminable interval, “you prove Menolly’s good opinion of your potential. You have also just proved the main criticism that Hall masters have expressed. I do not disapprove of ambition, nor the ability to think independently, but,” and suddenly his voice lost the cold displeasure, “presumption is unforgivable. Presuming to criticize a dragonrider is the most dangerous offense against discretion. Further,” and the Harper’s finger was raised in warning, “you are rushing toward a privilege you have by no means earned. Now, off with you to Master Olodkey and learn the proper drum measure for ‘Oldtimer.’ ”
The kindly note in his tone was almost too much for Piemur, who could more easily have borne blows and a tirade for his transgressions. He made his way to the door as fast as his leaden legs could bear him.
“Piemur!” Robinton’s voice checked him as he fumbled for the latch. “You did handle yourself very well at the Minehold. Only do,” and the Harper sounded as resigned as Master Shonagar often had, “do please try to guard your quick tongue!”
“Oh, sir, I’ll try as hard as I can, really I will!” His voice cracked ignominiously, and he spun around the door so that the Harper wouldn’t see the tears of shame and relief in his eyes.
He stood for a moment in the quiet hall, intensely grateful that it was empty at this time of day as he conquered dismay at his untimely insolence. The Harper was so right: he had to learn to think before he spoke; he never should have blurted out that unfortunate criticism of dragonriders. He’d’ve rated a right sound beating from any other Master. Domick wouldn’t have hesitated a moment, nor even languid Master Shonagar, whose hand he’d felt many a time for his brashness. But how had he dared criticize dragonriders, even Oldtimers, to Master Robinton? Certainly that took the prize for impudence, even from him.
Piemur shivered and vowed fervently to mind his thoughts and, even more carefully, his tongue. Particularly now, when he did know something of real significance. For he had been aware, previous to his
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