“I’m only being my usual ingratiating self,” the man told her, “and do stop struggling. You’re too heavy!”

Felena was laughing at his exaggeration as she led the way to Menolly’s table above the egg basket.

“You’re a terrible fellow, Master Robinton, indeed you are. But you’ll have your wine while Menolly picks out the best of the clutch. Have you spotted the queen egg, Menolly?”

“After the way Menolly’s queen has been attacking me, I’d be safer with any other color, Felena. Now do get that wine for me, there’s a good woman. I’m utterly parched.”

As he gently settled her into her chair, Menolly heard Felena’s teasing remark, “... terrible fellow, Master Robinton ... terrible fellow, Master Robin-ton ... ” She stared at him, disbelieving.

“Now, what’s the matter, Menolly? Did my exercise bring out spots on my face?” He mopped at his cheeks and brow and examined his hand. “Ah, thank you, Felena. You’ve saved my life. My tongue was quite stuck to the roof of my mouth. And here’s to you, young queen, and thank you for your courtesy.” He raised his cup to Beauty, who was perched on Menolly’s shoulder, her tail firmly entwined as she glared at him. “Well?” he asked kindly of Menolly.

“You’re the Masterharper?”

“Yes, I’m Robinton.” He sounded quite casual about it “And I think you need some wine, too.”

“No, I couldn’t” Menolly held up her hands in refusal. “I get hiccups. And go to sleep.” She hadn’t meant to say that either, but she had to explain why she was discourteous enough to refuse his cup. She was also acutely aware now of her stained overshirt, her sandy clothes and slippers, her complete disarray. This wasn’t how she imagined her first meeting with the Masterharper of Pern, and she hung her head in embarassment.

“I always advise eating before drinking,” remarked Master Robinton in the nicest possible way. “I shouldn’t wonder but that’s half the problem right now,” he added and then raised his voice. “This child is faint with hunger, Felena.”

Menolly shook her head, denying his suggestion and trying to forestall Felena, but she was already ordering one of the lads to bring klah, a basket of breads, and a dish of sliced meats. When she was served, just as if she were one of the Weyrwomen, she kept her head bent over her cup, blowing to cool the contents.

“Do you think there’s enough here for a starving man?” asked Masterharper Robinton, his voice so plaintive and faint with his pretended hunger that Menolly was startled into glancing up at him. His expression was at once so wistful, appealing and kind that, despite her deep chagrin, she smiled in response to his foolishness. “I’ll need strength for this evening’s work, and a base for my drinking,” he added in a very quiet, worried voice.