| |
––––––––
DINNER WAS HELD OUTSIDE the lead carriage that evening. It was a fine and starry night, perfect for the traditional departure feast. Clusters of glow lamps were hung from poles set around a fire pit in which a well-tended blaze pushed back the night. The table we’d seen that morning was off to one side, bearing a fair supply of food and drink. We all sat around the fire on camp stools and sections of tree trunks.
Willame hadn’t figured out the facts of life, yet, and made a bit of a fool of himself trying to wait on Sid. It was rather embarrassing, was obviously causing a certain young lady discomfort, and drew pointed — but unnoticed — looks from his aunt.
Early on, we were introduced to Korl’s Guild crew, a varied group of men and women in terms of physical presence and personality, but all with a confident bearing that immediately reminded me of Sid. There were an even two dozen, and the names of almost all of them were lost on me pretty quickly. Some stayed around our fire; others went to gatherings of their own. All of them looked us over carefully, in spite of their chief’s acceptance, and I saw then the reason he and Tensta were willing to take a chance on us. If we were other than we claimed to be, this crew would make short work of us, Alvehn swords or not.
Of course, we actually weren’t being honest with them, but the little white lie that was our cover story wasn’t aimed at doing the caravan harm.
Once we got down to it, the gathering became quite a party. Glancing beyond the fire that blazed at the heart of our circle, I saw others that burned as high, and heard laughter and song. The players had broken into small bands and were going from camp to camp, singing, leading dances, and generally clowning around. A small group of four, three young bearded men, their hair long and loose, and an equally young woman, auburn hair even longer and hanging free, eventually approached our fire. The boys played a lute, a flute, and a small hand-held drum, while the girl — who was quite the beauty — sang in a high, pure voice that was already well-trained. They finished that song and, at our urging, began another. It wasn’t as energetic, being a sad ballad. And what do you know, it was a song I’d heard before, about a love left behind.
Some things you just get used to not getting used to, as I'd said to Grevin. Doesn’t mean it’s easy. I didn’t hold it against the players, and raised no objection. They clearly didn’t know yet who I was. As they sang, I tried not to react, but Sid saw through it, took my hand, and leaned her head on my shoulder after a glance my way. Willame pretended not to notice.
When the ballad was done, and it was beautifully done, Korl gave me a look. I nodded in acknowledgment so he would know I’d taken no offense. “Tell your master to come to my wagon in the morning, before we set out,” he instructed the players.
The quartet grinned and thanked him sincerely, knowing they’d just won a reward for their troupe. But before they could leave, Trey said, “That ballad has another side to it, though I don’t suppose you’ve heard it.”
Korl looked from Trey to me, and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged, having no idea what Trey could be talking about.
“No, m’lord Alvehn,” said the young woman. “I have not.”
“It’s worth hearing,” Trey said, and rose from the log section he used as a chair. He left his coat draped over it and came around the fire circle, a tall, elegant figure dressed in black and dark brown, pale hair down around his shoulders. “May I?” he asked, holding his right hand out for the lute.
“M’lord, it would be an honor,” the lad replied, and handed it over.
Trey is, among other things, an accomplished musician. He played beautifully, and sang that same sad story, but from the man’s point of view. I don’t think the four young players knew who I was, just then. It was as sad and as beautiful as the other, to all but one who listened. I sat there trying not to burst into tears. I wondered how long ago Trey had written it. On this world, before that night, it was only her heartbreak they’d known. Now, they knew of both.
“M’lord Alvehn,” said the girl at the end, bowing her head to Trey as he returned the lute to her companion. Her face still bore the trace of tears. “It shames me to say I have never heard that one before.” The young men with her were rubbing their noses and sniffing. “It shames me more to realize, only now, that another felt the pain of that parting. For the tale is true, is it not? This did happen, a long time ago?”
“It happened,” Trey replied. “And there is no cause for shame. No one has ever heard me sing that song until tonight.”
“We are honored, m’lord,” said the lute player, and all four bowed.
“As are we all,” Korl said.
They turned to leave, but the girl turned back and said, “M’lord Alvehn?”
“M’lady?” Trey turned around to face her.
Stammering a bit at being addressed so, she asked, “I would be most honored to learn that song, if you’re willing.”
“I am most willing. Seek me out as the journey goes forward. All of you. I will teach you this song.”
The players bowed low, made the sign of the Two, and disappeared into the dark.
Sid gripped my hand between both of hers and gave me an inquiring look. “I’ll be fine,” I said for her ears alone. I kissed her on the cheek. Sid set her hand to my face to keep me from leaning away and kissed me firmly.
Willame rather abruptly found something else to do, beyond the fire and lamplight. Aside from me, and possibly Sid, only two others paid any attention, they being the boy’s aunt and Korl’s daughter, who followed him a moment later.
Trey returned to the makeshift stool he’d left, accepting a cup of wine and thanks from Korl, who gave me a wink, then lifted a mug of beer and launched into a drinking song that was, to put it mildly, off color. The rest of us were soon repeating the refrain, something about the unlikely use of the curved dorsal side of a dreyft as a bower, with the would-be lovers finding inventive ways to avoid rolling off. The melancholy mood was banished. The fire was warm and bright, people were laughing and making crude jokes, and the food and drink were perfect for a party around a fire on a warm, clear night ablaze with stars.
The night wore on and the crowd around the fire dwindled as people decided to call it a night. They drifted off one or two at a time until near midnight, when Korl said something about letting the fire die down and getting some sleep. Like several of the Guild members, the four of us had brought our bedrolls with us, and now unrolled them around the dying fire for a peaceful night under the open sky. Before turning in, Sid and I took a short walk to the comfort station set up near the rail line; there was almost no one else up and about by then.
“I cannot imagine how it feels, to hear that story told so often,” she said as we walked back to the fire, which by now was burning low.
“It isn’t a good feeling,” I admitted. “Trey’s version helps, and I really owe him one for doing that. I hope the new song catches on. I’d feel better if so many people didn’t assume I’d been an asshole about it.”
“You have a curious way with words.”
I laughed and put my arm around her. “I try to make things as plain as possible.”
“I wonder how plain you’ll need to be for young Willame?”
Laughing again, I said, “We’d probably need to make love right in front of him. God, that kid is quick with the infatuation.”
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have smiled at him.”
“I think that’s all it took,” I replied. I stopped walking and turned her to face me. I could just make out her face in the starlight. “Can’t say I blame him.”
“Ha!” Sid slapped my chest with the back of her hand. “I suppose that’s a compliment.”
“It is.” We stood in the starlight, facing each other. “I know we have an understanding here, but it matters to me that you know I’m not always so, um, casual about these things.”
“But I do know.” She set her sword hand over my heart. “And so I understand why this is broken, Daffyd. That is no bad thing, really. It means you’re a good man. I’ve known enough good men to understand the difference.” She laughed again and said, “The folk of the Isles are not casual about matters of the heart, either, even when we know it is only a passing thing. But we are raised to believe in the beauty of this gift we’ve been given, this part of being alive, and to know when it is right.”
Placing my hand over hers, I said, “I wish I understood how that could be. Where I come from, and for most people here, we manage to make it all as complicated as it could possibly be, and it gets — messy.”
“It will be a long journey,” Sid pointed out. “I will try to make my ways plain to you. Perhaps, in the end, you will have a better idea of why I am here.”
“That would please me.” We kissed, for a long time.
“God and Goddess,” she said at last, a bit short of breath. “And damn the timing!”
“Still?”
“Still.”
“Well, I’d like a bit more privacy, to be honest,” I said, looking around.
“As would I. For now, I could use some sleep. Last night was somewhat less than restful.”
“You have a gift for understatement.”
“So I’ve been told.”
We made our way back to the pavilion. All was quiet, save for snoring and the greeting of the night watch. We found our place — Trey or Grevin had been kind enough to set our gear side by side — and settled in. Sid definitely appreciated being held as we slept. And we did sleep, the night through.
I dreamed of gryphons high among the clouds.
