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By Root 292 0

the Hold and everyone was allowed to listen were special to her. Briefly she wondered if the harper played every evening for the Weyr. He struck up some melody she’d never heard before, and suddenly the air was full of fire lizards. They either went to sit on the shoulders of the people they were beholden to, or found themselves a perch somewhere in the kitchen cavern. They picked up the tune and sang a descant, and the singing was magical. Even Nian was bold enough to join in the choruses, while Ru, once he had listened to the melody all the way through, sang a tenor harmony to it. He had such a nice voice. To Nian’s mind, he was as good as any harper student, but he would be best, she added firmly in her heart and mind, as a dragonrider.

Then, when the last note had ended, the harper descended and weyrfolk began to rise and circulate among the tables.

“It’s been an exciting day for all you candidates,” Kilpie said, coming over to their table. “And there will be more chores in the morning—just to keep you busy, of course, till the eggs are ready to hatch. So we will excuse you to your quarters.”

“What if they Hatch tonight?” Robina asked.

“In that case, you’ll know about it,” Kilpie assured her, giving her what Nian thought was a dismissive look. Nian almost felt sorry for the Masterfarmer’s daughter, but Robina did not look at all unsettled.

Actually, Nian was quite willing to have an early night. So much had happened today, and she was tired. She wanted a bath, too, and thought that if she hurried, she’d be able to be first to claim one of the few bathing cubicles in the girls’ necessary. She told Neru her wish and he grinned.

“Yeah, I heard there’s always hot water here,” he said. “I may just have a bath, too. Can’t Impress a dragon stinking of fish, you know.”

“We do not stink of fish,” she said, sniffing at him, although she could catch a tiny whiff of fish oil and sea. “It’s marvelous not to have to wait to heat up enough for a decent bath just this once.”

So they walked on ahead of the other candidates, grabbing washing things and the towels their mother had packed, to get to a bath before anyone else thought of it.

Nian was lounging in the tub of deliciously hot water by the time other girls thought of bathing. She smiled to herself that she’d been first. She washed her hair, too, in the special shampoo her mother made. “To keep it silky and sweet-smelling,” her mother had said. “I can’t abide the smell of fish on everything,” she invariably added with a long-suffering sigh.

Once, Nian had asked her mother why she had chosen her father, if she didn’t like the smell of fish.

“Well, I married him for several reasons. The first is because I love him and he asked me. The second is that he had inherited his father’s holding and I didn’t know that the place reeked of fish oil and that it’s hard to wash scales off a plank floor. But he’s a good man, your father, and we’ve never gone hungry even if it was only fish for supper.” Then her mother added plaintively, “I do fancy a taste of beef now and then, and he’s willing to spend good credits to see I have some.”

Someone rattling the bath door startled Nian out of her memories.

“You were the first in,” she heard Robina’s sour voice accusing her. “When are you going to finish?”

“When I’m clean enough,” Nian replied firmly.

“Oh, the twinling from the fish hold. I suppose it’s as well if we let you get really clean.”

Robina’s nasty comment irritated Nian no end. She was really tired of being teased. “I’ll hurry, since I know you’d like to get all the sand out of your hair,” she said in her sweetest tone of voice, recalling the sight of the unconscious Robina on the sandy floor of the infirmary.

“I’ll thank you not to refer to that,” Robina said angrily.

“Oh, dear me, I didn’t meant to upset you,” Nian said without a trace of apology.

“Just give others a turn at a bath!”

“Oh, stop nagging, Master’s daughter,” someone else called, and Nian could hear Robina stamping away from her door.

“Who said that?” she demanded.

“Another fisherman’s daughter,” and