“You’re sure this Hall isn’t rocking?” he asked, strumming a few chords to test the instrument’s pitch. He was assured that the Hall had been steady for many, many Turns, never known to rock at all. The Harper affected not to be reassured as he tuned the G-string slightly higher (to Menolly’s relief). He made the gitar moan then, like a seasick soul.

As laughter rippled through the eager audience, Menolly strained to see how her father was taking this approach. The Sea Holder had little humor. A Harper’s welcome was a serious occasion, and Elgion did not appear to realize this. Petiron had often told Menolly how carefully Harpers were chosen for the Hold they were assigned to. Hadn’t anyone warned Elgion about her father’s temperament?

Suddenly Old Uncle cut across the gentle strumming with a cackle of laughter. “Ha! A man with humor! That’s what we need in this Hold—some laughter. Some music! Been missing it Lets have some rollicking tunes, some funny songs. Give us a good rib-popping ditty, Harper. You know the ones I like.”

Menolly was aghast She fumbled in her skirt pocket for some of the sweetballs as she shushed Old Uncle. This was exactly the sort of incident that she was supposed to prevent

Harper Elgion had turned at the imperious order, bowing with good respect to the old gentleman by the hearth.

“I would that I could, Old Uncle,” he said most courteously, “but these are serious times,” and his fingers plucked deep sombre notes, “very serious times and we must put lightness and laughter behind us. Square our backs to the problems that face us ... ” and with that he swung into a new exhortation to obey the Weyr and honor the dragonrider.

The sticky sweetballs had got warmed and stuck to the fabric of her pocket, but Menolly finally got some out and into Old Uncle’s mouth. He chewed angrily, fully aware that his mouth was being plugged and resenting it He chewed as fast as he could, swallowing to clear his mouth for more complaints. Menolly was only just aware that the new tune was forceful, the words stirring. Harper Elgion had a rich tenor voice, strong and sure. Then old Uncle began to hiccup. Noisily, of course. And to complain, or try to, through the hiccups. Menolly hissed at him to hold his breath, but he was furious at not being allowed to talk; at getting hiccups, and he started to pound the arm of his chair. The thumps made an out-of-tempo counterpoint to the Harper’s song and brought her furious glances from the head table.

One of the aunts gave her some water for the old man, which he overturned on Menolly, The next thing, Sella was beside her, gesturing that they were to take the old man back to his quarters instantly.