“I hadn’t thought they’d be so soft to the touch.”

“You have to watch for patchy skin and oil it well. I did a thorough job on these the other evening, but can see where I’ll have to do them again. Just stay there…” And Menolly quickly went down the hall to her room for the salve, Beauty complaining at the jouncing on her shoulder.

As they spread salve on the fire lizards, Sebell grew more confident of his handling of the creatures. He wore a half-smile, as if surprised to find himself at such a task.

“Do all fire lizards sing?” he asked, oiling Brownie.

“I don't really know. I suppose mine learned simply because I used to sing to them in the cave.” Menolly smiled to herself, remembering the fire lizards perched attentively on the ledges about the cave, their little heads turning from side to side to catch the sounds of music.

“Any audience being better than none?” asked Sebell. “Did anyone think to tell you that Lord Groghe’s little queen has recently started to sing along with the Hold Harper?”

“Oh no!”

“If Groghe could carry a tune,” Sebell went on, enjoying her dismay, “it’d be understandable. Don’t about it, Menolly. I heard also that Groghe’s delighted.” Then Sebell’s expression altered subtly.

“I’ll bet Lord Groghe wasn’t so happy about last night, was he?” she hesitated, then blurted out. “Do you think Canth and F’nor will live?”

“They have much to live for, Menolly. Brekke needs them to stay alive. She’s lost her queen already. She’ll make them live. We’ll know more when the Harper returns.”

Camo entered the room, carrying a heavily laden tray. His thick-featured face changed from ludicrous anxiety to beams of joy as he saw first the fire lizards and then Menolly.

“Pretty ones hungry? Camo has food?” And Menolly saw two huge pans of meat in pieces among the other dishes on the tray.

“Thank you for feeding the pretties this morning, Camo.”

“Camo very quiet. Very quiet.” The man bobbed at Menolly in such a fashion that the pitcher of klah splashed. Sebell deftly relieved him of the tray and set it on the sandtable center board.

“You’re a good man, Camo,” the journeyman said, go to the kitchen now. You must help Abuna. She needs you.”

“Pretty ones hungry?” The disappointment was writ large on Camo’s face.

“No, not now, Camo,” Menolly said gently, smiling up at him. “See, they’re asleep.”

Camo turned himself in a circle toward the sandtable and then the window ledges where several of the fire lizards were sprawled on the sun-warmed stone, glistening with their recent oiling.

“We’ll feed them again tonight, Camo.”

“Tonight? Good. Don’t forget? Promise? Promise? Camo feed pretties?”

“I promise, Camo,” Menolly said with extra fervor. The wistful, piteous way in which the poor man asked her to promise suggested that too many promises made to Camo were conveniently forgotten.

“Now,” Sebell said as the man shuffled from the room, “Silvina said you’d no time for more than klah when you woke. If I remember Shonagar’s lessons, you’ll be starved.”

To Menolly’s delight, there was redfruit on the tray as well as meatrolls, klah, cheese, bread and a sweet conserve. Sebell ate lightly, more to keep her company than because he was hungry, though he said he’d been studying. To prove that, he rattled off the names and descriptions of the fish she had given him the other morning.

“Did I remember them all correctly?” he asked, peering at her as she stared at him in amazement.

“Yes, you did!”

“Think I can pose as a seaman now?”

“If you only have to name fish!”

“If only…” he paused dramatically, making a grimace for that restriction. “I had a chat with a bronze dragonrider I know at Fort Weyr. He’s agreed to take us, on the quiet, to any body of water that you feel is adequate to teach me how to sail.”

“Teach you how to sail!” Menolly was appalled. “In one easy lesson, like those fish names?”

“No, but I don’t think I’ll actually have to sail. I should know the fundamentals and leave…” he grinned at her, “…the doing to the experts in the craft.”

She breathed a sigh of relief for she liked Sebell, and she’d been distressed to think that he might be foolhardy enough to attempt sailing on the ocean by himself. Yanus had often said that no one ever really learned all there was to know about the sea, the winds and the tides. Just when one got confident, a squall could make up and smash a ship to splinters.

“I do feel, that to be convincing, I’d better know how to gut fish as well. That seems a more integral part of the craft than actual sailing. So that will take priority in your instruction. N’ton said he could acquire some fresh fish for me with no problems.”

Again Menolly suppressed her curiosity as to why a journeyman harper needed to be conversant with the seacraft.

“Tomorrow’s a rest day,” Sebell continued. “There may even be a gather if the weather holds, which to my landsman’s eye, seems likely. So, if the fire lizards break shell, and if we can disappear circumspectly, perhaps some day after that…”

“I can’t miss my lessons with Master Shonagar…”

“Has he got you dithering so soon?”

“He is so emphatic…”

‘Yes, he usually is. But he really knows how to build a voice, if that’s any consolation to you. I could always play an instrument…” and Sebell grinned in reminiscence, “…but I never thought I’d make a singer. I was terrified I’d be sent away from the Hall…”

“You were?”

“Oh, indeed I was. I’d wanted to be a harper since I learned my first Ballads. I’m landsman bred, so harpering is very respectable. My foster father gave me all the assistance I needed, and our Hold Harper was a good technician, not very creative,” and Sebell waggled a hand, “but capable of teaching the fundamentals thoroughly. I thought myself a right proper musician…until I got here.” Sebell uttered a self-deprecating noise at his boyish pretensions. “Then I learned just how much more there is to harpering than playing an instrument.”

Menolly grinned with complete understanding. “Just like there’s more to being a seaman than knowing how to gut a fish and trim sail?”

“Yes. Exactly. Which reminds me, Domick did excuse you from this morning’s session, but he hasn’t excused you from the work… So, we might as well put waiting time to use. Incidentally, my compliments on your manner with Domick yesterday. You struck exactly the right note with him.”

“I never play flat.”

Sebell gave her a wide-eyed stare. “I didn’t mean, playing.” He stared at her a moment more. “You mean, you really like that sort of music? You weren’t dissembling?”

“That music was brilliant. I’ve never heard anything like it.” Menolly was a bit disconcerted by Sebell’s attitude.

“Oh, I guess it would seem so to you. I only hope you have the same opinion several Turns from now after you’ve had to endure more of Domick’s eternal search for pure musical forms.” He gave a mock shudder. “Here…” and he spread out sheets of new music. “Let’s see how you like this. Domick wants you to play first gitar, but you’re to learn the second as well.”

The occasional music for two gitars was extremely complex, switching from one time value to another, with chording difficult enough for uninjured hands. She and Sebell had to work out alternative fingering for the passages that her left hand could not manage. The repetitive theme had to dominate, but it swung from one gitar part to the other. They had gone through two of the three sections before Sebell called a break, laughing at his surrender as he stretched and kneaded tired fingers and shoulders.

“We won’t get this music note-perfect in one sitting, Menolly,” he protested when she wanted to finish the third movement.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

“Will you stop apologizing for the wrong things?”

“I’m sor– Well, I didn’t mean to…” She had to rephrase what she wanted to say as Sebell laughed at her attempt to obey his injunction. “This sort of music is a challenge. It really is. For instance here…” and she turned to a quick time passage that had been extremely difficult to finger.