“The odd one out, young Tam,” Ca’trell said reflectively. “Red hair, when I’ve got black and Tamaret had brown. My eyes, Tamaret’s face, and a wher of a temper. A passionate person, like his mother, but he was awkwardness to her grace, and he held a grudge for forever, while Tamaret would just blow up and over in seconds."
The rider smiled ruefully at the memory, and continued, “He had such a voice, Meilizath! But the boy was tone-deaf, and I could not teach him. I sent him away to the Hall by Quinalt Weyr, with a journeyman by the name of Shanvo. That young man had him scared to death when I left.” The Harper Master sighed. “I only hope he ended up drumming some sense of pitch and timing into young Tam’s head." |
