Friday 16 August 2013

Story: The Glove, III

(Part I , II , IV)

On the Scottish moon Ganymede, orbiting the planet Troos, an apprentice piper called Steffan is awaiting his final exam for entrance into the ranks of ordinary pipers. The chosen Masters of the Guild were finally approaching the Circle in the centre of the great artistic capital of Burgh and Steffan's nerves were finally beginning to shred. He had worked for years...

The Master of the Blue nodded reassuringly and asked him to take his place, while the Master of the Red merely scowled. The Master of the Grey was a study in neutrality as was required by tradition but seemed to be harbouring a small smile nonetheless. Steffan was surprised not to recognise any of the three examiners; Normally at least the Blue was chosen from the local Guild members, and often from the teaching staff, but they were all strangers. Something odd was going on, or was he just being paranoid.

The Blue spoke, in a fairly blunt manner: "Mr Steffan, we'll have 'Troos in the Shadow of our Moon' to begin, please." A moment passed. "In your own time." The Red Master looked disgusted at this easy starter, but that was the purpose of the Blue getting first choice normally. Steffan played the requested song, the horrific sound of the pipes driving away a large portion of the audience, and finally puffed to a halt. The audience clapped, as the remaining people were aficionados and aware of what was going on.

The Red pulled off a mightily evil grin, and then quite urbanely: "Twinsen's Rampage. And get a move on with it." Steffan was not surprised; He had come to see many a piper perform for his life in the Circle and 'Twinsen's Rampage' was a common choice for really putting someone through their paces and giving the examiners some idea of their victim's abilities. He put himself through the exercise with some gusto and tried to not get too winded in the Gamut sequence, which often tripped people up if they weren't careful. Audience members covered their ears in the most traumatic parts, where the pipes were most in danger of complete structural failure. The Rampage was truly a technical challenge rather than an artistic masterpiece.

The Blue and Red alternated choices for another rounds before the Grey took his place and examined the notes he had taken. His was the most vital role, the assessment of the strengths and merits brought out by the Red's and the Blue's choices. He would make informed choices of songs that would challenge the specific candidate. "You may drink and repose for two minutes." was all he said to begin, probably due to the heat of the day and energy demanded by that early Rampage. Normally the Grey was a highly ranked local Piper Master, not a stranger to the city. It was frustratingly unprecedented.

Steffan recollected himself and sat on the grass as the two minutes sprinted by. Arising moments before the Red could invoke demerits he posed once again. The Grey, again, with a nondescript grin, proclaimed "'Lord Smedley's Hearse', if you please." loudly and then retreated back to his Stone and leaned there nonchalantly. People in the know muttered urgently in the audience. Say, was that his uncle in the giant blue fez? Was he distracting himself from the ordeal of Smedley's slow, slow tempo and miserable measured chords? Probably, he felt, his weaknesses were about to show, as he pumped up and then bawled out the piece.

Finally, as the Hearse pulled out around the corner, the candidate was free to think once again. The Masters stood silently, and then conferred briefly. Again the Grey came forward and called out "You threw the badger, Molly.", which was an almost uncommonly common song sung out in backstreet taverns about town after football and lacrosse matches. It had never really been officially transcribed for pipes but Steffan made his attempt anyway. He'd never seen such a thing done before on such an occasion.

Again the Grey: "Play us something new. We need cheering up." The candidate wasn't supposed to speak in the exam, otherwise he would have moaned in utter shock. This was ridiculous! He played 'Donkeys are so sad on Thursdays' and looked aggrievedly at the examiners. They didn't look in the least ashamed. In fact they looked rather pleased. The Blue removed his ceremonial robe and proffered it to him, then the Red, and finally the Grey. He had passed. It was time to go and sleep and celebrate. He went forward to shake the hand of the Grey but instead was handed a gold scroll, sealed by an incredibly old-fashioned wax seal.

"Master Steffan, we have a lot to talk about with you. Indeed more than we thought. The instructions are in the scroll." The Examiners shook Master Steffan by his hand and then walked off, chatting across the park as Troos passed overhead and began its fall.


To be continued...

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