CHAPTER THREE
Halanna arrived, and created an instant impression on all who met her of an overly self-confident seventeen-Turn-old young woman who found fault with everything at the Harper Hall, and especially the cottage where she was lodged. She was accustomed to a room of her own, she informed Isla, who acted as foster mother to her charges: she'd never be able to sleep, sharing a room. Why was there so little fresh food to be had when she was used to plenty of fruit? The weather was dreadful and she hadn't the right clothing, though the three large bundles laboriously taken up by carrier beast from the ship which had delivered her at Fort Hold Harbour contained an immense quantity of clothing. Nor had she sufficient space to arrange half her things in the tiny room she had to share!
And where could she practise in peace and quiet with all the instruments and voices blaring constant cacophony into the rectangle?
The only one who found her at all bearable was Petiron. Once he heard her sing, he dismissed Merelan's remarks about her lack of discipline and a lack of general knowledge about music which was close to illiteracy. Jubilant over having a contralto with such a rich timbre and wide range, with no "break' whatever, he immediately began to write contralto solos into the TurnOver music he was currently composing. He discounted Merelan's suggestion that the girl would not be able to "read' the contralto line, much less manage the tempo changes or the cadenzas.
Unfortunately, Petiron's approval merely increased Halanna's already overbearing manner. Merelan needed all her tact, and the weight of her position as MasterSinger, to get the girl to do the vocalizes that would strengthen her breath control, sustain her range and prepare her for the rigours of singing Petiron's kind of vocally extravagant music. That Petiron had also envisaged a soprano/contralto duet did nothing to help Merelan, for it automatically put the girl on a par with a MasterSinger, which Halanna clearly was not despite an amazing natural voice.
Merelan hadn't a jealous bone in her body and was quite willing to prepare the girl or remedy the gaps in her education, if Halanna had been the least bit amenable. But the young singer decided that, if she was good enough to sing a duet with the leading MasterSinger of Pern, she had no need to do such dull exercises and study vocal scores. She sang loudly, completely ignoring any dynamic alteration for the appropriate performance of a song or aria, concerned only with showing off the power of her vocal equipment. "Soft' was an unknown quality.
"If she keeps on shrieking like that," Washell said to Merelan when she approached him for advice on how to deal with Halanna, "she won't have a voice in a couple of turns. That'll solve that problem rather neatly, I'd say."
"Washell!" Merelan was shocked by the acid tone of his voice.
He raised his eyebrows, wrinkling his forehead, and gave her a long look.
"Of course, it's a lot harder to sing softly, since it requires considerable breath control. I've had many difficult students in my life as a teacher, m'dear, but that one is unique in my experience.
Whatever was Maxilant thinking of to encourage her to think so highly of her ability?"
"Sheer desperation, I'd imagine," Merelan replied with understandable disgust. "And a chance to get her out of his hair."
"You may be right. Though how he could let her away with so little fundamental understanding of note values is really beyond me."
"And quite possibly beyond Halanna," Merelan added. They exchanged understanding grins.
"Let Petiron handle this one, m'dear," Washell said, winking. "He won't like her messing up his music, you know."
"There is that," Merelan mused, and then grimaced. "Only he's likely to find me lacking as an instructor. And I'm not!" she added with a touch of desperate anger in her voice.
"By no means, m'dear, as everyone else in the Hall will vouch." Washell patted her arm. Then he paused, thinking. "There may be another way. We'll contrive. Just you wait and see."
Many of the Masters, and even journeymen, at the Harper Hall were eccentric in one fashion or another, traits which were respected or, sometimes, endured as a necessary evil to the results.
But they had all put in the essential work to master the basic mechanics of music. Halanna could not be bothered with such slogging.
Merelan kept at it, as obstinate in her attempts to instruct Halanna as the girl was to avoid such lessons.
Halanna was an accomplished flirt and quickly isolated those whom she would favour because of their rank, either within the Hall or from prestigious Holds. She chose only the attractive journeymen and Masters, of whom there were quite a few just then: back at the Hall either for reassignment or to take part in the TurnOver rehearsals. Not only did she have a voice, even her worst enemies had to admit that she was a beauty. Blond hair bleached almost silver by the sun in Ista Hold, a flawless tan that accentuated her light green eyes and white, even teeth, a figure more mature than those of most girls her age, and she knew far more than she ought of how to accentuate her sensuality. She did not obey the cottage keeper's basic rules, deciding they were for children and not the daughter of a Holder, though all the other boarders were of the same rank, and some more prestigious than hers. She was caught time and again sneaking in late at night.
Then Halanna took a dislike to Robinton ...
Merelan conducted her voice lessons in her own quarters, as they were spacious enough and offered some privacy. Right now, preparing for the TurnOver celebrations, she was coaching quite a few students and often had to schedule them when Robie was not in the Hall nursery school. He had always played quite happily and quietly in the other room. Now Halanna said his very presence so close to her was distracting, even with the connecting door closed, and she hated anyone to overhear her lessons. That was too much for Merelan. Nor' was it an excuse to find favour with Petiron, who was busy dreaming of the success of his new composition.
"Since it is so important to you, love," Merelan said from behind gritted teeth, "I really think you ought to take over her coaching. As you may have observed," she added, knowing perfectly well that he hadn't, "she will probably do better with a male coach. I've already more than I can handle with the secondary parts."
"But I can't teach her what you can," Petiron protested in surprise. In his estimation, Merelan was much the better vocal coach, and he couldn't quite understand how she was having difficulties with a voice as fine as Halanna's. "You're not annoyed that I've written in a duet for you to sing with her?"
"Me? No, why should I be? She has a magnificent voice, but she's a little shy on technique and I know she'll respond better to your comments."
Petiron was not at all sure of that, but there was something about Merelan's attitude which made him keep his private views to himself.
He anticipated no trouble at all.
"She's a musical idiot!" he railed when he returned from his first lesson with her. "Haven't you been able to teach her anything in the full month she's been here?"
"No," Merelan said quietly, and pointed to the closed door where Robinton was taking a nap.
"But she can't even read notes, even when I beat out the tempo for her. Nor is she able to maintain pitch when I change signatures.
She expects me ... me ..." and Petiron laid an eloquent hand on his chest, "to teach her the entire score by rote. Could Maxilant have done that with her?" he enquired in a petulant tone.
"I believe Maxilant only raved on about her beautiful voice, love, and said nothing about the lack in her general musical education." Merelan spoke as levelly as she could, having great difficulty masking her inner jubilation.
"She wouldn't vocalize to warm her voice and told me, Petiron swung on his spouse, "that you didn't bother ..."
"I didn't "bother" because I could never get her to see the necessity, Petiron," she replied with considerable vehemence. "Washell is of the opinion that if she continues to sing in alt for another few years, she won't be able to squeak."
Petiron recoiled in surprise at his gentle spouse's critical remark.
"No wonder you were so eager for me to coach her," he said almost sullenly.
"If you can't, no one in this Hall will be able to," she said, looking him squarely in the eye. "She might believe you, where she's certain I'm jealous of your interest in her."
Petiron scowled. "Aren't you?"
Merelan laughed. "My love, I wouldn't be that child for all the diamonds on Ista's beaches. Washell's right, you know. She won't have a voice left if she keeps on this way."
"He is right," Petiron admitted, and scowled more deeply. "Well, she is not..." he paused dramatically "... mining either the duet or the aria. I shall make some changes in both that will put the music at a level she should be able to sing."
Merelan merely nodded.
When Petiron held his next session with Halanna, she was so insulted that she tried to walk out on him. The argument that ensued was heard by nearly everyone on the rectangle as the two voices, one baritone and one contralto, rose in volume and piercing clarity.
"You can't do that!" Halanna began, an astonished screech in her voice.
"Oh, yes I can! You're incapable of singing what I wrote."
"Incapable? How dare you?"
"How dare you address a Master in such a tone, young woman!
I don't know what Maxilant taught you, but it wasn't manners and it certainly wasn't how to read a simple score."
"Simple score? You're notorious all over Pern for the complexity of your music. I never hear anyone singing what you write. No one can !"
"The first-year apprentices have no trouble. But then, they can read music and know the value of the notes they're singing."
"I do know how to read music."
"Then prove it."
"No!"
"You will sing."
"You can't force me!"
Many agreed that they had heard the crack of flesh hitting flesh.
And it was true that the right side of Halanna's face was darker than the left when she was finally allowed to leave the studio. But she did begin to sing in a much muted voice. And she continued to sing the music as written until she did so correctly, sometimes until she was hoarse.
"I hope he didn't push her too far," Merelan murmured to Washell.
"Perhaps it might be better for all of us if he did," he replied uncharitably.
After that session, Halanna hurried out of the studio and disappeared.
She was seen a little later on her way across the great Fort Hold courtyard to the cottage where she slammed and bolted the door of the room she still shared.
What they didn't realize until the next morning was that she had bribed a Drum Tower apprentice to send an urgent message to her father, Halibran, saying she was being abused. Petiron admitted that he had slapped her, to stop her hysterical ranting, to which everyone in the Hall had been audience. Any Master was permitted to chastise a student for inattention or failure to learn assigned lessons.
When MasterHarper Gennell and Healer Journeywoman Betrice interviewed her about the impropriety of her actions, not to mention the content of the message, she was defiantly tearful.
"No one understands me in this place. I'm being humiliated at every turn, and I had expected so much from you!" she said. "So much, and you're like everyone else after all!"
Betrice later told Merelan that she almost laughed out loud at such a performance.
"No one has humiliated you, young woman," Gennell replied, as stern as Betrice had ever seen him. "You were welcomed, and the very best instructors assigned. You have been paid a high compliment by Master Petiron, who wrote a part especially to show off your voice, scarcely a humiliation, but an honour you seem unable to appreciate. You will apologize to Master Petiron for your unresponsiveness. . ."
"Apologize?" Halanna rose from the stool in amazement. "I am the daughter of a Holder, and I apologize to no one. He's to apologize for slapping me, or. . ."
"That's enough out of you," Gennell said, and turned to his spouse. "She's to be quartered in an appropriate room and given only basic rations."
That was more easily said than done. It took Gennell, Betrice and Lorra to get her, screeching and straggling, up to the third storey of the Harper Hall to one of the spare rooms used by messengers or overflow guests. She refused to eat the food supplied at mealtimes and actually emptied the first three pitchers of water until her thirst got the better of her histrionics. Since it took nearly six days before her clandestine message brought results, she got hungry enough to devour what she was given, though she refused to apologize or promise to remedy her attitude. Such interviews usually resulted in her hurling threats and promises of just retribution at those trying to talk sense into her. Even MasterHealer Ginia had no luck in trying to talk sense into the girl.
The sentry on the Fort Hold eastern tower spotted the ten armed men racing up the harbour road and blew the alarm, which alerted both Lord Grogellan and the Harper Hall. Having been informed of the illegal drum message, Grogellan assembled a larger force from his sons, nephews and armsmen to meet the newcomers just as they turned into the Harper Hall quadrangle. Master Gennell, Betrice, Ginia, Petiron and Merelan were waiting on the broad steps, while every apprentice, journeyman and Master had found some vantage point from which to view the confrontation.
As Halibran and his troops halted their runners, he had no trouble locating his "abused' daughter who was screeching at the top of her lungs from an upper window.
"She's been at it again, Father," one of Halibran's riders said in disgust. "She was the one abusing, I've no doubt." The resemblance to his sister was obvious, and he was not the only young blond male in the group with a similar cast of countenance.
Halibran, dismounting, waved the young man to hold his tongue. Not a major holder, though a wealthy one from the produce of his lands and the mines under them, he had none of his daughter's arrogance as he mounted the steps and held out his hand to the MasterHarper.
"Since she is sequestered, I assume that Halanna has not seen fit to apologize. Let me do so in her stead," he said, allowing everyone to heave sighs of relief.
Master Gennell, however, shook his head slowly. "It is her place, not yours, Holder Halibran, to make restitution for her behaviour and her refusal to accept the usual necessary disciplines of the Harper Hall. She has much to learn."
The screeching, which the new arrivals were pointedly ignoring, took on a shriller note.
"The fault lies in me," Halibran said with a weary sigh. "Her mother died at her birth, and with six brothers she has been much cosseted."
The brother who had spoken gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head and then looked away. The other two managed not to grin, but it didn't escape anyone that they had probably tried to get their father to school his daughter's behaviour.
"What did happen that made her send such a message?" Halibran asked.
Gennell opened his mouth, but it was Petiron who stepped forward and answered.
"She is musically almost illiterate, Holder Halibran," he said in a flat and firm voice, "although I know Harper Maxilant to be a competent musician."
"Maxilant did suggest that the Hall might succeed where he was failing," Halibran said, raising both gloved hands in helplessness, his answer directed more to Gennell than to Petiron. "I should not have sent you our problem." He turned back to Petiron. "And?" "When she repeatedly refused to learn a simple score ..."
No one of the Harper Hall group so much as batted an eye at Petiron's remark.
"... and started to rant in an hysterical fashion, I slapped her.
Once." And Petiron put up one finger in emphasis.
Everyone on the steps nodded.
"We all heard the entire argument," Master Gennell said, pointing to the studio windows. "And the single slap."
"She'd need more than one," a brother said.
"We shall take her off your hands," her father said in an almost meek tone, though it was obvious that he was probably not one whir less proud than his daughter.
"Nonsense," Master Gennell said, just as Petiron stepped forward to protest. "With your permission, we shall continue to discipline her, firmly, until she realizes that such behaviour gets her nowhere in either her relationships with others or in learning the lessons you asked us to teach her."
Halibran was astonished; the brothers muttered among one another.
"That is too fine a voice to be misused," Master Gennell said, glancing up in the direction of the outraged cries. Strips of clothing flapped out of the window and drifted to the ground. "Or abused.
We have disciplined recalcitrant students before now. She may be..." and Master Gennell paused significantly, "unusually obdurate, but give me leave to doubt she is beyond redemption."
"I'd say she is," one brother murmured, and received a buffet on his leg from his glaring father.
"Give us until the Spring Equinox, Holder Halibran, and you will be pleased with the change."
"How do you propose to achieve that?" the holder asked, tucking his gloved thumbs into his thick riding belt and regarding not only Gennell but the others on the top step.
"If you would make it ... exceedingly ... plain to her," Gennell said, "that such antics cut no ice with you, that you will no longer condone her behaviour or rescue her from its consequences, she will soon capitulate."
Halibran considered as he removed his gloves, stowed them in the saddle bag and flexed his fingers. "If she does, it will be the first time in her life," he said, "but it had better come now." He opened and closed his fists.
The expression of profound satisfaction was mirrored by all three brothers and, indeed, the other six men of the party.
I’ll lead the way," Gennell said affably and, as Betrice and Ginia fell into step with Holder Halibran, they disappeared into the Hall.
"Is that the girl you said had a superb voice, Petiron?" Grogellan asked, moving up to the steps from where he and his men had been a witness to the interview.
The oldest brother, recognizing that this was the Lord of Fort Hold, respectfully dismounted and gestured for the others to do so, inclining his upper body politely to one of higher rank. Just then Halanna's voice rasped to an even higher note, almost a wail, and Petiron winced.
"If she keeps on forcing the upper register like that," Washell remarked to no one in particular, "she may end up soprano instead of alto... if she's any voice left at all."
"Hmmm," was Grogellan's reply, as he turned his head up to the window. "She certainly shouldn't be allowed to carry on like that."
"It's a speciality of hers," the oldest brother remarked. "She's developed it into a fine art, and none of us, he included his brothers "could do a thing about it."
Grogellan looked at him with such a glare that he grimaced, shrugging his shoulders. Fort's Lord Holder did not approve of sons criticizing their fathers, no matter what the cause.
"Any moment now," Washell said, grinning in happy expectation.
He was right. Halanna's shriek broke off abruptly. Then there was a long wait for those on the ground before her voice was heard again, and this time her shout was defiance mixed with astonishment.
That tone altered to outraged cries, screams, and finally into penitent sobs which gradually, over the next few minutes, dwindled into silence. Or at least to a level which was not audible to those below.
To give him credit, the oldest brother controlled his expression as he turned to Washell. "Our mounts need to be refreshed before we start back again," he said.
"Then follow us," said Grogellan. "You will guest at the Hold, for I know the Harper Hall is presently filled to capacity." He gestured for the Istans to follow him.
The oldest brother, astonished and grateful for Grogellan's hospitality, looked from him to the doorway of the Harper Hall. "I should await my father." He turned back to Grogellan. "I am Brahil, and those two are my brothers, Landon and Brosil," he said by way of introduction. "And Gostol, here, is our good captain who sailed us here."
Grogellan nodded approval of Brahil's manners and, leaving the young man to wait for his father, he swept the others ahead of him towards the Hold. "How was the sea on your way here, Master Gostol?" he asked, assuming the duties of a genial host.
The Istan holders stayed three more days, until Halanna finally Capitulated, from sheer physical exhaustion. Ginia had naturally attended the girl after each session with her father and, although she was discreet, she did imply that it was no more than the child required to make her mend her ways.
"For so many children, disapproval is sufficient, or a rap on the knuckles," she said to Merelan, who was genuinely worried when Halanna showed no signs of repentance after the second chastisement.
"Then there are some who have to have manners thumped into their heads. Oddly enough, they seem to recover more quickly than the sensitive child who is only verbally rebuked."
"But..."
"He uses only his hand, and it's more her pride that's been offended than her butt end," Ginia said. "If the issue is not forced now, she will become far worse in later years and end up disgracing her entire family and hold. That can't be allowed."
"It's just that we've never had a child that difficult," Merelan said.
Isla joined them, breathless from a fast walk across the courtyard.
"He's taking most of her clothing back with him, and has asked me to provide warmer garments. Just a few, and nothing fancy, though I did talk him into permitting one nice outfit for Gathers and performances." She looked almost regretful, though Halanna had driven her to despair with her snide comments and spiteful ways. "Only she's not to pick it out. I'll let Neilla do so.
She has the best taste and the most forgiving heart."
Halanna was required to apologize to the MasterHarper, Journeywoman Healer Betrice, and Master Petiron for her intransigence.
Gennell had wanted to include Merelan, but the singer put her foot down. She would have the instructing of the humbled girl, and that was going to be hard enough to handle without the child experiencing further abasement.
"She brought it on herself," Halibran said sternly.
"That does not require me to compound it," Merelan said, lifting her chin to match his attitude.
"You are a gracious lady," he said, relenting and bowing to her.
Halanna was granted a room to herself, the attic one, which had sufficient space for her much reduced wardrobe. If she did not apply herself to her lessons, her father had left instructions with the MasterHealer Ginia to take what disciplinary steps would be required to see that she did.
"And, if you should decide this regimen doesn't suit you," her father said in so cold a voice that Merelan shivered, "and attempt to run away from the Harper Hall, I will have the drums repudiate you across all Pern. Do you understand? You wanted to sing, you wanted to come here to the Harper Hall so that you could improve your voice. Now you will do just that, and nothing but that! Do you understand, Halanna?"
Head hanging after the ordeal of apology, she murmured something.
"I didn't hear that. Speak up."
A flash of her old spirit flared in her eyes, but vanished when her father lifted his hand. "Yes, Father. I understand." She stood, head up, lips and chin trembling slightly. Satisfied with her demeanour, he strode out of the MasterHarper's office.
"MasterSinger Merelan will be your primary instructor, Halanna," Master Gennell said. "You will review your foundation lessons with the first-year apprentices…” he was almost glad to see the flare of dismay in her eyes; her punishment had not broken her spirit, even if it had quelled her arrogance ― "until you have learned enough to graduate to the more advanced classes. Although classes have begun for the day, Master Washell has given permission for you to arrive late this morning. Now go on to room 26. And you'll need this slate and chalk."
He handed her the items she had refused to carry or use in her first days at the Harper Hall. As she went out of the door, he noticed she pulled her shoulders back, steeling herself to go in among the lowest of apprentices and face whatever their reaction to her presence might be. The girl had courage. However, Gennell had made very sure that she would not be the butt of any youthful mischief.
He had given a stern lecture to the apprentice contingent that they were to behave properly at all times in her presence and never refer to the incident or they'd have worse of the same.
In fact, the affair had subtly improved the behaviour of even the more inventive miscreants among the apprentices. But that didn't keep many of the principals from deeply regretting Halanna's intransigence.
Petiron did not restore the more complex music he had written for contralto voice, but Halanna did sing at TurnOver. In the duet with Merelan, she modulated her tone to match the soprano so that it was technically well sung, though the contralto part did not match the soprano in the joy which the song had been written to express.
Petiron was profoundly disappointed in her performance, having worked so hard with her to produce the dynamics he had "heard" during composition.
"Don't you dare chide her, Petiron," Merelan said, intercepting him after the performance. "She's done well, all things considered.
No one can beat joy into music unless it comes from the heart."
"But her voice ..." Petiron was beside himself with dismay. "She could so easily have risen to the occasion."
"Give her time, love, give her time. She may not be as rebellious or arrogant as she was when she first came here, but give her the chance to realize how much she has learned and how much her voice has improved. If you can't say anything complimentary, say nothing." She looked over to where Halanna was being surrounded by Fort Hold guests who were complimenting her on her lovely voice and splendid performance. "She was note-perfect, you know, and her breath support was excellent. And her presence couldn't have been improved on. Say that. She'll know where she failed."
Petiron opened his mouth and, while Merelan knew he wanted to complain that his satisfaction had been diminished by her lackluster performance, he observed Halanna accepting the compliments with a genuine modesty.
"Oh, well. You were splendid, Mere."
"I'm glad you think so," she said, and if her tone was a little dry, Petiron missed it as he was surrounded by those wishing to congratulate MasterComposer and MasterSinger.