‘The new Harper, who else?’ There was a wild chorus of cackling laughs and great wonderings about the appearance of the new Harper.
‘They always send a young one here.’
‘Petiron was old!’
‘He got
that
way. Same as we did!’
‘How would you remember?’
‘Why not? I’ve lived through more Harpers than you have, my girl.’
‘You have not! I came here from Red Sands in Ista …’
‘You were born at Half-Circle, you old fool, and I birthed you!’
‘Ha!’
Menolly listened to the four old women arguing back and forth until she heard her mother demanding to know if the greens had been washed. And where were the good plates and how was she to get anything done with all the gossip?
Menolly found a sieve large enough to hold the washed greens and brought them up for her mother’s inspection.
‘Well, that’ll be enough for the head table,’ Mavi said, poking at the glistening mound with her fork. Then she stared at her daughter. ‘You
can’t
appear like that. Here you, Bardie, take the greens and put the dressing on them. The one in the brown flask on the fourth shelf in the cool room. You, Menolly, have the goodness to get yourself sandfree and decently dressed. You’re to attend Old Uncle. The moment he opens his mouth, shove something into it or we’ll be hearing him all night long.’
Menolly groaned. Old Uncle smelled almost as much as he chattered.
‘Sella’s much better handling him, Mavi …’
‘Sella’s to attend head table. You do as you’re told and be grateful!’ Mavi fixed her rebellious daughter with a stern eye, tacitly reminding her of her disgrace. Then Mavi was called away to check a sauce for the baking fish.
Menolly went off to the bathing rooms, trying to convince herself that she was lucky she hadn’t been banished completely from the Hall this evening. Though tending Old Uncle came as close as could be to banishment. Honor obliged the Sea Holder to have all his household there to greet the new Harper.
Menolly shucked off the dirty tunic and breeches, and slipped into the warm bathing pool. She swung her shoulders this way and that for the water to wash the sand and sweat as painlessly as possible from her sore back. Her hair was all gritty with sea sand, too, so she washed that. She was quick because she’d have her hands full with Old Uncle. It’d be much better to have him all arranged in his hearth seat before everyone else assembled for dinner.
Draping her dirty clothes around her, Menolly took the calculated risk that few people would be in the High Hold at this hour and charged up the dimly lit steps from the bathing pools to the sleeping level. Every glow in the main corridor was uncovered, which meant that the Harper, if such it were, would have a guided tour of the Hold later. She dashed down to the narrow steps leading to the girls’ dormitories, and got into her cubicle without a soul the wiser.
When she got to Old Uncle’s room, later, she had to clean his face and hands and slip a clean tunic over his bony shoulders. All the while he was chattering about new blood in the Hold and hee-hee who was the new Harper going to marry? He’d a thing or two to tell the Harper, give him the chance, and why did she have to be so rough? His bones ached. Must be a change in the weather because his old legs never failed to give warning. Hadn’t he warned them about the big storm a while back? Two boats had been lost with all crew. If they’d paid attention to his warning, it wouldn’t have happened. His own son was the worst one for not listening to what his father said and why was she hurrying him so? He liked to take his time. No, couldn’t he have the blue tunic? The one his daughter had made him, matching his eyes, she’d said. And why hadn’t Turlon come to see him today as he’d asked and asked and asked, but who paid him any heed anymore?
The old man was so frail that he was no burden to a strong girl like Menolly. She carried him down the