Ormarr played for ten minutes. At the last stroke of the bow, Grahl leapt to his feet.
“Who wrote that?”
“It’s—it’s only about a sunset.”
“Yes, yes, but where did you get hold of it—the tune?”
“I made it up myself.”
Grahl stared at him, but the boy never flinched. No, those eyes could not lie!
“What else can you play?”
“There’s all the songs they used to sing at home. And the hymns from church.”
“Can you play at sight?”
Ormarr shook his head doubtfully.