remembering herself at last, bowed. A muscle quivered in her jaw, marring its smooth line. Sira walked to the door, and opened it just in time to admit a Housewoman with a stack of ledgers in her arms. As Sira closed the door, she saw Rhia and the Housewoman sit down at a large desk with the thick books between them. If Rhia managed the inventories and the Cantoris, settled disputes and acted as intermediary for Shen, then what did the Magister do? It seemed that it was Rhia, indeed, who handled everything. Who did the Magister’s job.
Sira wished she could find it in herself to like her.
Chapter Six
Isbel, like all Conservatory students, loved to see travelers. No matter who they were, travelers brought with them the essence of the mountains and glaciers and irontree forests of the Continent. For the students, as for most of the people of Nevya, life was bounded by stone walls year in and year out. Only in the brief summers did their world expand to include the sky, the earth, the smell of fresh breezes. Riders coming in from the great outside seemed adventurous and free. For Isbel, the storyteller, they were also mines of information.
When word passed among the students that travelers were riding into the great cobbled courtyard, Maestro Nikei released Isbel from her third-mode exercises so she could join her classmates in the window seat to watch the party dismount.
They were a bedraggled-looking group from Perl, the poorest of the northern Houses. There were three rather small, thin men, and one who was big-shouldered and strong. This one wore his shock of curling blonde hair short, shorn in the manner of those who travel for their livelihood.
That is Theo , one of the students sent. Isbel recognized Jana’s voice, and she remembered that Jana was from Perl. He is a Singer, an itinerant. I have met him.
What is that fur he wears? asked Kevn.
Urbear , Jana sent with a shiver. It was silvery-gray on its surface, with a layer of dark gray showing beneath. Be glad they do not leave the coast.
Who are the others? Isbel asked.
I only know one, the one with gray hair. He is Housekeeper at Perl.
What do you suppose they want?
No one had an answer. The party were now off their hruss and were coming into the hall, shrugging off furs and stamping their cold feet. The young Singers untangled themselves from the window seat and reluctantly went back to their lessons. In the hall, Isbel watched Cathrin greet the travelers and invite them to bathe and eat.
The broad-shouldered itinerant, Theo, looked up and met Isbel’s eyes. He recognized her, no doubt because of her dark tunic, as one of the students. He bowed, and when he straightened he caught her eye and smiled at her. Isbel dimpled and ducked back out of sight, hurrying up the stairs toward the students’ wing.
By the time the House gathered in the great room for the evening meal, all the students knew why the travelers had come. Perl, as Bariken had been a few weeks before, was in need of a Cantor. Cantor Evn, who had only eight summers and should have been able to work for some years yet, had something wrong with his fingers. His junior had been unable to relieve his disability, and unable to play either the filla or the filhata , he was nearly useless.
At the Magister’s table, the students saw Perl’s Housekeeper and Magister Mkel looking at their table. Shivers of excitement went through their ranks.
Cantor Evn must be worried , a second-level student sent. What if he can never play again?
That would be disaster, Kevn sent. No one can sing that way.
So it will be one of us. That was Arn.
I am ready , boasted Kevn
We are all ready, Arn responded, but several of his classmates shook their heads in doubt.
Perhaps they will send Jana , someone put in. It is her home.
Jana’s sending was forlorn. Conservatory is my home, just as it is yours.
There was a long moment of silence. The first- and second-level students looked with wide, respectful eyes at
Sira wished she could find it in herself to like her.
Chapter Six
Isbel, like all Conservatory students, loved to see travelers. No matter who they were, travelers brought with them the essence of the mountains and glaciers and irontree forests of the Continent. For the students, as for most of the people of Nevya, life was bounded by stone walls year in and year out. Only in the brief summers did their world expand to include the sky, the earth, the smell of fresh breezes. Riders coming in from the great outside seemed adventurous and free. For Isbel, the storyteller, they were also mines of information.
When word passed among the students that travelers were riding into the great cobbled courtyard, Maestro Nikei released Isbel from her third-mode exercises so she could join her classmates in the window seat to watch the party dismount.
They were a bedraggled-looking group from Perl, the poorest of the northern Houses. There were three rather small, thin men, and one who was big-shouldered and strong. This one wore his shock of curling blonde hair short, shorn in the manner of those who travel for their livelihood.
That is Theo , one of the students sent. Isbel recognized Jana’s voice, and she remembered that Jana was from Perl. He is a Singer, an itinerant. I have met him.
What is that fur he wears? asked Kevn.
Urbear , Jana sent with a shiver. It was silvery-gray on its surface, with a layer of dark gray showing beneath. Be glad they do not leave the coast.
Who are the others? Isbel asked.
I only know one, the one with gray hair. He is Housekeeper at Perl.
What do you suppose they want?
No one had an answer. The party were now off their hruss and were coming into the hall, shrugging off furs and stamping their cold feet. The young Singers untangled themselves from the window seat and reluctantly went back to their lessons. In the hall, Isbel watched Cathrin greet the travelers and invite them to bathe and eat.
The broad-shouldered itinerant, Theo, looked up and met Isbel’s eyes. He recognized her, no doubt because of her dark tunic, as one of the students. He bowed, and when he straightened he caught her eye and smiled at her. Isbel dimpled and ducked back out of sight, hurrying up the stairs toward the students’ wing.
By the time the House gathered in the great room for the evening meal, all the students knew why the travelers had come. Perl, as Bariken had been a few weeks before, was in need of a Cantor. Cantor Evn, who had only eight summers and should have been able to work for some years yet, had something wrong with his fingers. His junior had been unable to relieve his disability, and unable to play either the filla or the filhata , he was nearly useless.
At the Magister’s table, the students saw Perl’s Housekeeper and Magister Mkel looking at their table. Shivers of excitement went through their ranks.
Cantor Evn must be worried , a second-level student sent. What if he can never play again?
That would be disaster, Kevn sent. No one can sing that way.
So it will be one of us. That was Arn.
I am ready , boasted Kevn
We are all ready, Arn responded, but several of his classmates shook their heads in doubt.
Perhaps they will send Jana , someone put in. It is her home.
Jana’s sending was forlorn. Conservatory is my home, just as it is yours.
There was a long moment of silence. The first- and second-level students looked with wide, respectful eyes at
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