A Cast of Corbies - Chapter Two
Apr. 28th, 2025 06:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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i_read_whatSo last time, we started a book! It's got some interesting ideas and some spotty execution. But I'm intrigued by the idea of seeing more about how the Free Bards actually function.
I do wish the main female character wasn't such a prickly killjoy.
So Chapter Two starts us with Raven, outside the Dancing Hall, gloomily watching the people parade inside. A voice behind him tells him this isn't the worst the Guild has been doing. It's Nightingale! She's popped up in prior books and will be the lead of the next one. Let's get a look!
“Hello, Nightingale.” He turned anyway. As always an odd little pang, made up equally of appreciation, lust, and uneasiness, shot through him at the sight of her. Lovely, truly lovely, was Nightingale; an ageless woman, [Roma]-dark as he, lithe as a willow stem, and as mysterious and elusive as the bird of her use-name. Mysterious, oh yes, indeed, even to a fellow [Roma]. Nightingale was a harpist fine enough to bring the tear to your eye, the laughter to your heart, but she was also just this side of eerie, uncanny. He often had the feeling that she was not entirely of this world; Bardic Magic burned very clearly in those dark eyes, eyes that seemed to see far past the surface of things, deeply into both the past and the future.
...that's definitely a future main character description.
Apparently, Raven and Nightingale had a "tacit understanding" once, though that's over. This makes him hesitant since he's still not completely over him. And we get some foreshadowing.
But his more practical side chided him for being so sentimental. Ach, ridiculous, you’re not some scrawny adolescent like Jaysen. No use pining after any woman, much less one like Nightingale. She’s not for any man to have and hold for long. Not any human man, at least. Maybe an Elf lord, but nothing less. What’s over is over.
Look, I played Mass Effect and I remember exactly how many female characters romanced Garrus. Possibly, there's some deep-seated female urge to fuck a bird. I don't know.
It does seem to confirm that this book takes place before the Eagle and the Nightingale.
Anyway, the "worst" is that the Guild Bards have set up tiny theatres over the Faire, "where audiences can sit in complete comfort to hear their music, shaded in the day, and lit by night. And prettier dancing halls than this to draw in the aristocrats, and those who like pretending they’re aristocrats.”
I'm probably going to be a broken record about this, but this still doesn't make a lot of sense to me. First, Guild Bard membership is supposed to be fairly exclusive, limited to men, most of whom have some level of wealth. How are they filling up these Dancing Halls and Theatres to begin with?
I think at some point there was an implication that they'd train up some lesser minstrels to take the positions that the Bards don't want. But then, what's stopping the younger Free Bards (at least the white men) from taking advantage?
And I still don't get why they don't just plant themselves outside the Halls and play their own music with their hats out. If they're skilled enough, and the weather isn't completely shitty, I feel like people would happily toss a nickel in a guitar case before spending a dollar on a show.
But again, I do appreciate the attempt at giving these characters real problems, as opposed to some other Bard/Harper type books.
And I do appreciate that the big issue with their competition with the Guild Bards is money, but I also raise the question of why these musicians who generally play in the courts of Sires, Dukes and Kings, and very wealthy manors and so on - all avenues that largely are inaccessible to Free Bards, would even want to play at the Faire.
The implication, I suppose, is that they're trying to starve out the Free Bards. But why? (I suppose that question might be plot, rather than plot hole. I'll give it time.)
Raven decides to call a meeting for all the Free Bards.
I do like this bit:
Nightingale pursed her lips speculatively. “You have a plan?”
Oh, how he would have liked to impress her with a great lie-but lies did not impress Nightingale. Facts did, as did honesty, even if they made him look the desperate fool that he was. “I… wish I did,” he admitted. “No. But with so many creative minds crowded in together, we surely must come up with something.” Other than a quarrel. I hope.
She gave him the grace not to look too skeptical. “I shall,” she replied. “But you will forgive me if I wish that Master Wren were among us at this moment.”
He nodded as she turned away. How could he not forgive her? Particularly since that was precisely what he was wishing himself.
It occurs to me that I'd have really liked to see a prequel to the Lark and the Wren. It would have been interesting to see Talaysen actually lead the Free Bards, since the story with Rune was more about the times in between. It does make some sense that Talaysen was better at countering the Guild though, since he'd been a high ranking member once.
Though, I have to say, this seems like a REALLY small group:
Raven glanced about at his little group: Heron and Owl were two solid, reliable islands of calm, made all the more so in contrast to nervous, flushing Jaysen fidgeting beside them, still with his lute slung over his back. Nightingale stood to Owl’s left, seeming more mysterious than ever in the light from the torch Raven had staked beside his stone seat; Magpie, standing beside her, looked by contrast almost too young to be on her own. Crow, scruffy as ever, lurked to one side, dark eyes murky. The others, all those who had arrived early for the Faire only to find their efforts at busking thwarted by the Guild’s new inventions, ranged behind the rest in postures of worry and hostility.
Six people? Really? Six free bards in the entire Faire, and you guys can't find a street corner to perform on??
To be fair, there are those nameless "others", but it'd be nice to get a good idea of how many there actually is.
Heron has an interesting idea though: building their own 'dancing hall'.
I like this bit because the objections people bring up seem reasonable: they can't afford a tent like the Guild. They may not be able to get permission from the Faire. But Owl thinks it's a good idea: they can build it outside the Faire Grounds.
Magpie manages to say something that doesn't annoy me!
“Where?” Magpie asked warily. “We can’t put it too far away, or no one will bother visiting it.” She hesitated, as if an idea had just occurred to her. “We could put it near the beast-sellers, I suppose. They’re outside the Faire, but there’s traffic there even at night. And as for making our venue different-well, the charm of the Faire is that it’s supposed to be rustic; most of these city-folk have never seen a country dance. We could set up an arena with straw bales and a platform, just like a country Harvest-fest. The beast-sellers would probably loan them.”
Now that's a pretty good idea. And I appreciate Lackey and Sherman for letting minor characters come up with them. Faint praise, I know, but we've read enough books where the only real advances and ideas can come from the lead characters.
Raven is on board, pointing out that a good many of the beast-sellers are Roma, and the rest are wanderers, and they have a history of helping each other. Crow points out they can attract customers to the beast sellers too.
Jaysen's got a good question though: what do they perform to attract customers.
And this is where things start getting a little shaky again:
Raven s grin widened. “That’s not a problem. We’ve heard what the Guild Bards have to offer.”
“Right,” Owl cut in. “Court music. Dull, orderly, unimaginative court music. The Guild musicians wouldn’t dream of soiling their precious minds with learning the dances and songs the common folk like.”
Except we know that's not true. They do play Free Bard music, though it sometimes gets changed and sanitized. And I'm not sure why they couldn't just play these common songs on the street corner for the same result, but this concert/hall thing does sound like a fun idea, so I'll stop being Betty Buzzkill.
Raven puts the idea together, a flat area, ringed with hay (he credits Magpie with the suggestion), a platform on one end, sing and play real country music, all excited stuff until they tire out. And admission will be free.
Bizarrely, they all protest. Raven says they'll ask for donations, like a large scale version of a street corner venues. They'll put a cute big eyed kid next to it to give a "beaten puppy" look.
The protest seems bizarre to me because, from what we saw in prior books, actually paying gigs aren't really a thing they DO. Either there's the street busking, or playing at an inn for dinner/tips, or playing at a brothel house for similar. I don't know of any scenario where they'd charge people for entry.
But okay, anyway, they discuss the take - divided evenly between everyone who performs.
Owl also points out having beast-keepers and animals nearby might keep the Guild from bothering them. Mastiffs and clubs.
Nightingale points out that they should invite the musicians who aren't Free Bards too. Raven agrees. And Owl and Magpie have the idea of offering refreshments, having folk in the refreshment halls playing for food and tips, or they can send a vendor to the Hall itself.
I was about to ask if that wasn't what they were already doing, but Magpie wants to "formalize" what's been informal. How, I don't know.
We do get some shiptease though:
She glanced at Raven, face animated, eyes bright with enthusiasm, and he, to his amazement, felt his heart give an unexpected little lurch. Don’t be stupid, he told himself sharply. No time for that nonsense now.
Dude, really? I mean, she's been okay here, so maybe her unlikability last chapter was an aberration, but I feel like you could do better. Go be a third with Nightingale and the Bird Guy.
Anyway, Raven is all bravado outwardly, but inwardly, he's nervous about how the Guild will react to this move, and whether or not this is going to be effective. He thinks that since Talaysen appointed him as leader, he has to make sure not to let anyone see his uncertainty.
Aw. I am kind of a sucker for "burden of leadership" plots, so I think Raven is growing on me.
We then get what is essentially a montage of the Bards all advertising their show. It's an oddly presented bit, but I kind of like it.
Jewelers Row was a bit quieter than the rest of the Faire; the crowds here in a mood to browse slowly and savor subtleties. The brightly clad, dark-haired woman who appeared at the end of the row and sat down beside the stand of Shena the Jeweler garnered no attention at first. Seeming to cast a circle of calm about herself, she ran her fingers quietly over the strings of her harp. Passersby froze, caught by the gentle, tender melody….
But then, before that melody could be resolved, the harpist flattened her hands on the strings, stilling them. Rising gracefully, she murmured, ‘The song will be fulfilled tonight. Near the beast-sellers’ pens.” In a swirl of bright skirts, she vanished into the crowd.
Nightingale, of course.
Heron's technique is sneakier.
The lanky, blond young man with the lute slung over his shoulder stopped at the stand of Lerrin the Lute Maker, examining a handful of bronze strings. Lerrin beamed at this prospective customer, boasting over the pure quality of his merchandise. The young man smiled shyly.
“Could I try one of them on my lute?” he asked diffidently.
Lerrin gloated; certain that he had made a sale. “Go ahead, go ahead. Hear the sound of one, you’ll want a dozen!”
But the young man paused a moment, hand poised over one of the strings. “Well….first hear what my lute sounds like as it is, all right?”
So he plays, getting a bit of a crowd, playing up his sad situation. And to Lackey and Sherman's credit, the difficulty becomes clearer here when a passing Guildsman accuses Heron of being about to beg for money, bothering the nice (and sympathetic) crowd. Lerrin, who ends up being our viewpoint character, notes that a year ago, it would have been called "busking" and no Guildsman could have stopped that.
Of course, in the end, it's a sales pitch:
“Oh no, sir, never that!” The boy’s eyes were so wide with false innocence Lerrin almost choked on strangled laughter. But as the Guild Bard strode majestically away, the young lutist, face still as innocent as springtime, added to Lerrin and the curious crowd that had gathered, “I would never beg. But if you would care to stroll down tonight to the area near the beast-sellers’ pens, you might hear some very interesting music, indeed.”
Heh.
Raven is back at the tent, anxious and worried. People do start strolling in though, not a "good-sized audience" by his standards, but one nonetheless, so he starts fiddling some dance music. Dancing ensues, and the crowd grows. Raven eventually passes the stage to Jaysen, who sings some ballads so people can catch their breath. Among them, a story-ballad of Robin and Kestrel! Good to know they apparently made it back.
I hope they got their wagon!
Later Crow, Magpie and Owl all get a turn. Then other musicians who don't get a name. Then Nightingale. Heron and Crow again. And so forth.
When it's Raven's turn again, he ends up inviting Magpie to play her flute with him. He takes the lead first, while she plays counterpoint, then he has her take the lead, while he does the same. It's definitely more shiptease, but not a bad one. Of course, they end the song staring into each other's eyes.
She blushes and rushes away, he assumes what happened had only been momentary musical magic.
When he goes off to start feeling anxious again, Nightingale comes over to meddle. She points out that Magpie is very pretty. Raven is embarrassed, pointing out that she's very young. Nightingale doesn't think she's that much younger, certainly not compared to Rune and Talaysen.
I mean, yeah but that's not saying much. That said, I THINK Magpie's probably supposed to be in her early twenties, to his late twenties. (Since he's ten years older than Jaysen, who is presented as being pretty young.) But we'll see.
Nightingale stops poking at him though, noting that sudden romantic leanings aren't his ownly worry. She's got similar feelings, attributing it to them being Roma - feeling the change in the air and the stirring of ill-tidings to come.
Eh, I'm not really a fan of this "let's make a real world ethnicity all mystic" thing that is really common when it comes to the treatment of Roma people.
That said, this might be less that and more of a "oppressed people picking up on bad vibes faster than the white folk" thing. Which, fair enough.
Oh, hey, Magpie's turn to be the viewpoint character. Oh boy.
You know how I said she was more likable this chapter? WELL.
Magpie (Jessamyn, she thought defiantly, I am still, underneath it all, Jessamyn the players’ daughter) stood alone in shadow, watching Raven and Nightingale, and feeling absolutely horrid. Her stomach was upset, and her earlier elation had quite vanished the moment she had seen those two together.
This was ridiculous, worse than ridiculous. She was herself, complete, self-sufficient as she’d had to be ever since childhood; she wasn’t the sort to find herself drawn to-to a penniless, shiftless, not-to-be-trusted [Rom]!
WOW.
Okay. Interesting choice to make our obvious female lead character a fucking racist.
Admittedly, she has no idea that Raven's issues right now are because he's worried about the whole group and what they're likely to face. But even if Raven and Nightingale WERE fucking, that'd be none of her damn business. And even if she IS jealous, that's no excuse for racism.
Because she's the female love interest, we get her eye-view of Raven himself.
It’s the spell of the music, she told herself. That’s all it is. You don’t have time for complications. Besides, the man wasn’t at all what she usually thought of as handsome, not with that wild thatch of black hair framing a sharp, saturnine face: he looked, if she was thoroughly honest about it, like a bandit, a tricky, particularly dangerous one at that. That dramatic black eye patch certainly didn’t help. Nor did the fact that he went out of his way to cultivate a rakehell manner. Magpie had overheard him telling one of the ladies who’d come to see them perform (and maybe, the young woman thought wryly, to arrange a private performance from Raven) that he’d lost his eye in a desperate, heroic battle with an evil wizard.
A wizard, ha. More likely he lost it to a jealous husband!
But ….when he played the fiddle, that mocking face became serious, quietly intense, almost beautiful. Magpie suspected-no, knew-that while Raven might not take many things seriously, music was definitely one of the few things he did respect.
Okay, lady, you JUST met the guy last chapter. And all he did there was talk some animals out of a ditch, joke around a bit, and then set up a meeting so that you all could decide what to do about the Guild.
I might think Raven's a himbo, but that's because I'm listening to his internal monologue. YOU are just a racist git.
But I do glimpse the one thing I actually remember about this book: the running joke where Raven constantly gives completely different explanations for how he lost his eye.
There's definitely a lot of dramatic angst here. She's very jealous of Nightingale in a way that honestly makes it seem like Magpie's into her. But also really exoticized and fetishized.
Nightingale is mysterious, exotic, like a wild bird with a heartbreaking song and paintbox plumage. And I-I’m about as mysterious as-well, as nice, plain, good-for-you bread. Nightingale was so very beautiful, with her dark, exotic looks. And I look, well-wholesome!
Oh, and there was more: Nightingale was so very blatantly a wielder of Bardic Magic, while not a spark of arcane powers lurked in Magpie. And Nightingale was a [Rom], an unfettered, free, wonderful creature, the kind of woman who simply embodied all the romance of the open road. She’d probably pine away, caged up in a city.
Then we get an info-dump of Magpie's backstory. She was raised by traveling players. Dead dad, drunk (but pleasant) uncle, a mom with no head for business. So basically Magpie (or "Jessamyn") had been in charge of keeping everyone fed and clothed and getting along. Mom eventually settled down with a new man, and Magpie's on her own.
And well, this:
Wonderful. I can run a business or play just about any woodwind well enough to earn a living: thank you, Mother, wherever you are, for that much. But just because I am myself, not some simpering little idiot without two thoughts to spare, I scare off every man I meet. Well, no, not every man. There were always some who weren’t intimidated by a strong-willed, independent woman, though she hadn’t met any of them yet.
I mean, last chapter, you were incredibly hostile for no reason. And in this chapter, you're a racist, blatantly denigrating and exoticizing people for being Roma. So maybe it's you.
Also, given that her dream is a house or cottage - a secure place with no wandering, she probably shouldn't date a nomad? Stay away from Raven, okay?
And look at how she thinks of HIM:
Or had she? What about Raven? At first he’d seemed just as empty-headed as all the other good-looking men she’d met. But… he didn’t seem to mind her outspoken nature. And he certainly didn’t seem to mind her musical talents, nor did he seem to see her as some kind of competition! Their duet had been-
No. Raven, Magpie reminded herself sternly, belonged to Nightingale. She was not a poacher!
You literally JUST met the guy and immediately decided he was empty-headed. But it is kind of interesting that she doesn't want to poach on Nightingale's claim. I still kind of feel like Magpie's into Nightingale, but honestly, both Nightingale and Raven deserve better.
(Tangentially, I took a moment to look up both Nightingale and Raven's actual first names. Aysah and Reshan. Not sure if they'll come up here or not, but I like trivia.)
Magpie's still monologuing by the way. She's cautious. She's always worried about money and how to support herself without "selling more than her music", which is something that I'm sure none of these other traveling musicians have ever had to worry about...
She also thinks about how, if the Guild took women, she'd likely have joined immediately. She might not be happy, but she'd have been secure. And okay, that's fair, that's the only thing she said that I sympathize with.
Anyway, we time skip: a week has passed, and Raven tries to convince himself that there's nothing to worry about. Their "dancing ground" is crowded and popular, and everyone's doing very well. But now Raven's worried about the long-term problems, and what the Guild might be plotting.
And I admit, while he came across as an inconsistent himbo in the first chapter, he's pretty solid here. I can see a bit better why Talaysen picked him.
Anyway, he's suddenly accosted by Lerrin the Lute-Maker who tells him to look at strings. He has news though, and he wants to share because the Free Bards have been good for business. Apparently the King is about to pass a law banning streetbusking altogether, but the Guild doesn't want the Free Bards to know about it.
Wait, what?
I mean, yeah, that puts the kibosh in all of my ideas to combat the Guild, but that's a ridiculous approach, and one that can't remotely be enforceable.
Anyway, the rationale is that "[their] type of music" (and isn't that a loaded phrase) causes congestion, street crime, pick-pocketing and fighting. Lerrin disagrees of course, but they can't go against the king.
Raven thanks him and spirals a bit. Larger taverns are now only able to hire Guild musicians (and where, again, are they getting these musicians? How many could there possibly be to support this?), but there's not enough smaller taverns or houses of pleasure to support all the musicians.
But anyway, as unenforceable as I think this is in the long run, it's certainly going to be a problem for anyone caught doing it with some very nasty consequences. So yeah, this is a pretty good cliffhanger. The chapter ends here.
I do wish the main female character wasn't such a prickly killjoy.
So Chapter Two starts us with Raven, outside the Dancing Hall, gloomily watching the people parade inside. A voice behind him tells him this isn't the worst the Guild has been doing. It's Nightingale! She's popped up in prior books and will be the lead of the next one. Let's get a look!
“Hello, Nightingale.” He turned anyway. As always an odd little pang, made up equally of appreciation, lust, and uneasiness, shot through him at the sight of her. Lovely, truly lovely, was Nightingale; an ageless woman, [Roma]-dark as he, lithe as a willow stem, and as mysterious and elusive as the bird of her use-name. Mysterious, oh yes, indeed, even to a fellow [Roma]. Nightingale was a harpist fine enough to bring the tear to your eye, the laughter to your heart, but she was also just this side of eerie, uncanny. He often had the feeling that she was not entirely of this world; Bardic Magic burned very clearly in those dark eyes, eyes that seemed to see far past the surface of things, deeply into both the past and the future.
...that's definitely a future main character description.
Apparently, Raven and Nightingale had a "tacit understanding" once, though that's over. This makes him hesitant since he's still not completely over him. And we get some foreshadowing.
But his more practical side chided him for being so sentimental. Ach, ridiculous, you’re not some scrawny adolescent like Jaysen. No use pining after any woman, much less one like Nightingale. She’s not for any man to have and hold for long. Not any human man, at least. Maybe an Elf lord, but nothing less. What’s over is over.
Look, I played Mass Effect and I remember exactly how many female characters romanced Garrus. Possibly, there's some deep-seated female urge to fuck a bird. I don't know.
It does seem to confirm that this book takes place before the Eagle and the Nightingale.
Anyway, the "worst" is that the Guild Bards have set up tiny theatres over the Faire, "where audiences can sit in complete comfort to hear their music, shaded in the day, and lit by night. And prettier dancing halls than this to draw in the aristocrats, and those who like pretending they’re aristocrats.”
I'm probably going to be a broken record about this, but this still doesn't make a lot of sense to me. First, Guild Bard membership is supposed to be fairly exclusive, limited to men, most of whom have some level of wealth. How are they filling up these Dancing Halls and Theatres to begin with?
I think at some point there was an implication that they'd train up some lesser minstrels to take the positions that the Bards don't want. But then, what's stopping the younger Free Bards (at least the white men) from taking advantage?
And I still don't get why they don't just plant themselves outside the Halls and play their own music with their hats out. If they're skilled enough, and the weather isn't completely shitty, I feel like people would happily toss a nickel in a guitar case before spending a dollar on a show.
But again, I do appreciate the attempt at giving these characters real problems, as opposed to some other Bard/Harper type books.
And I do appreciate that the big issue with their competition with the Guild Bards is money, but I also raise the question of why these musicians who generally play in the courts of Sires, Dukes and Kings, and very wealthy manors and so on - all avenues that largely are inaccessible to Free Bards, would even want to play at the Faire.
The implication, I suppose, is that they're trying to starve out the Free Bards. But why? (I suppose that question might be plot, rather than plot hole. I'll give it time.)
Raven decides to call a meeting for all the Free Bards.
I do like this bit:
Nightingale pursed her lips speculatively. “You have a plan?”
Oh, how he would have liked to impress her with a great lie-but lies did not impress Nightingale. Facts did, as did honesty, even if they made him look the desperate fool that he was. “I… wish I did,” he admitted. “No. But with so many creative minds crowded in together, we surely must come up with something.” Other than a quarrel. I hope.
She gave him the grace not to look too skeptical. “I shall,” she replied. “But you will forgive me if I wish that Master Wren were among us at this moment.”
He nodded as she turned away. How could he not forgive her? Particularly since that was precisely what he was wishing himself.
It occurs to me that I'd have really liked to see a prequel to the Lark and the Wren. It would have been interesting to see Talaysen actually lead the Free Bards, since the story with Rune was more about the times in between. It does make some sense that Talaysen was better at countering the Guild though, since he'd been a high ranking member once.
Though, I have to say, this seems like a REALLY small group:
Raven glanced about at his little group: Heron and Owl were two solid, reliable islands of calm, made all the more so in contrast to nervous, flushing Jaysen fidgeting beside them, still with his lute slung over his back. Nightingale stood to Owl’s left, seeming more mysterious than ever in the light from the torch Raven had staked beside his stone seat; Magpie, standing beside her, looked by contrast almost too young to be on her own. Crow, scruffy as ever, lurked to one side, dark eyes murky. The others, all those who had arrived early for the Faire only to find their efforts at busking thwarted by the Guild’s new inventions, ranged behind the rest in postures of worry and hostility.
Six people? Really? Six free bards in the entire Faire, and you guys can't find a street corner to perform on??
To be fair, there are those nameless "others", but it'd be nice to get a good idea of how many there actually is.
Heron has an interesting idea though: building their own 'dancing hall'.
I like this bit because the objections people bring up seem reasonable: they can't afford a tent like the Guild. They may not be able to get permission from the Faire. But Owl thinks it's a good idea: they can build it outside the Faire Grounds.
Magpie manages to say something that doesn't annoy me!
“Where?” Magpie asked warily. “We can’t put it too far away, or no one will bother visiting it.” She hesitated, as if an idea had just occurred to her. “We could put it near the beast-sellers, I suppose. They’re outside the Faire, but there’s traffic there even at night. And as for making our venue different-well, the charm of the Faire is that it’s supposed to be rustic; most of these city-folk have never seen a country dance. We could set up an arena with straw bales and a platform, just like a country Harvest-fest. The beast-sellers would probably loan them.”
Now that's a pretty good idea. And I appreciate Lackey and Sherman for letting minor characters come up with them. Faint praise, I know, but we've read enough books where the only real advances and ideas can come from the lead characters.
Raven is on board, pointing out that a good many of the beast-sellers are Roma, and the rest are wanderers, and they have a history of helping each other. Crow points out they can attract customers to the beast sellers too.
Jaysen's got a good question though: what do they perform to attract customers.
And this is where things start getting a little shaky again:
Raven s grin widened. “That’s not a problem. We’ve heard what the Guild Bards have to offer.”
“Right,” Owl cut in. “Court music. Dull, orderly, unimaginative court music. The Guild musicians wouldn’t dream of soiling their precious minds with learning the dances and songs the common folk like.”
Except we know that's not true. They do play Free Bard music, though it sometimes gets changed and sanitized. And I'm not sure why they couldn't just play these common songs on the street corner for the same result, but this concert/hall thing does sound like a fun idea, so I'll stop being Betty Buzzkill.
Raven puts the idea together, a flat area, ringed with hay (he credits Magpie with the suggestion), a platform on one end, sing and play real country music, all excited stuff until they tire out. And admission will be free.
Bizarrely, they all protest. Raven says they'll ask for donations, like a large scale version of a street corner venues. They'll put a cute big eyed kid next to it to give a "beaten puppy" look.
The protest seems bizarre to me because, from what we saw in prior books, actually paying gigs aren't really a thing they DO. Either there's the street busking, or playing at an inn for dinner/tips, or playing at a brothel house for similar. I don't know of any scenario where they'd charge people for entry.
But okay, anyway, they discuss the take - divided evenly between everyone who performs.
Owl also points out having beast-keepers and animals nearby might keep the Guild from bothering them. Mastiffs and clubs.
Nightingale points out that they should invite the musicians who aren't Free Bards too. Raven agrees. And Owl and Magpie have the idea of offering refreshments, having folk in the refreshment halls playing for food and tips, or they can send a vendor to the Hall itself.
I was about to ask if that wasn't what they were already doing, but Magpie wants to "formalize" what's been informal. How, I don't know.
We do get some shiptease though:
She glanced at Raven, face animated, eyes bright with enthusiasm, and he, to his amazement, felt his heart give an unexpected little lurch. Don’t be stupid, he told himself sharply. No time for that nonsense now.
Dude, really? I mean, she's been okay here, so maybe her unlikability last chapter was an aberration, but I feel like you could do better. Go be a third with Nightingale and the Bird Guy.
Anyway, Raven is all bravado outwardly, but inwardly, he's nervous about how the Guild will react to this move, and whether or not this is going to be effective. He thinks that since Talaysen appointed him as leader, he has to make sure not to let anyone see his uncertainty.
Aw. I am kind of a sucker for "burden of leadership" plots, so I think Raven is growing on me.
We then get what is essentially a montage of the Bards all advertising their show. It's an oddly presented bit, but I kind of like it.
Jewelers Row was a bit quieter than the rest of the Faire; the crowds here in a mood to browse slowly and savor subtleties. The brightly clad, dark-haired woman who appeared at the end of the row and sat down beside the stand of Shena the Jeweler garnered no attention at first. Seeming to cast a circle of calm about herself, she ran her fingers quietly over the strings of her harp. Passersby froze, caught by the gentle, tender melody….
But then, before that melody could be resolved, the harpist flattened her hands on the strings, stilling them. Rising gracefully, she murmured, ‘The song will be fulfilled tonight. Near the beast-sellers’ pens.” In a swirl of bright skirts, she vanished into the crowd.
Nightingale, of course.
Heron's technique is sneakier.
The lanky, blond young man with the lute slung over his shoulder stopped at the stand of Lerrin the Lute Maker, examining a handful of bronze strings. Lerrin beamed at this prospective customer, boasting over the pure quality of his merchandise. The young man smiled shyly.
“Could I try one of them on my lute?” he asked diffidently.
Lerrin gloated; certain that he had made a sale. “Go ahead, go ahead. Hear the sound of one, you’ll want a dozen!”
But the young man paused a moment, hand poised over one of the strings. “Well….first hear what my lute sounds like as it is, all right?”
So he plays, getting a bit of a crowd, playing up his sad situation. And to Lackey and Sherman's credit, the difficulty becomes clearer here when a passing Guildsman accuses Heron of being about to beg for money, bothering the nice (and sympathetic) crowd. Lerrin, who ends up being our viewpoint character, notes that a year ago, it would have been called "busking" and no Guildsman could have stopped that.
Of course, in the end, it's a sales pitch:
“Oh no, sir, never that!” The boy’s eyes were so wide with false innocence Lerrin almost choked on strangled laughter. But as the Guild Bard strode majestically away, the young lutist, face still as innocent as springtime, added to Lerrin and the curious crowd that had gathered, “I would never beg. But if you would care to stroll down tonight to the area near the beast-sellers’ pens, you might hear some very interesting music, indeed.”
Heh.
Raven is back at the tent, anxious and worried. People do start strolling in though, not a "good-sized audience" by his standards, but one nonetheless, so he starts fiddling some dance music. Dancing ensues, and the crowd grows. Raven eventually passes the stage to Jaysen, who sings some ballads so people can catch their breath. Among them, a story-ballad of Robin and Kestrel! Good to know they apparently made it back.
I hope they got their wagon!
Later Crow, Magpie and Owl all get a turn. Then other musicians who don't get a name. Then Nightingale. Heron and Crow again. And so forth.
When it's Raven's turn again, he ends up inviting Magpie to play her flute with him. He takes the lead first, while she plays counterpoint, then he has her take the lead, while he does the same. It's definitely more shiptease, but not a bad one. Of course, they end the song staring into each other's eyes.
She blushes and rushes away, he assumes what happened had only been momentary musical magic.
When he goes off to start feeling anxious again, Nightingale comes over to meddle. She points out that Magpie is very pretty. Raven is embarrassed, pointing out that she's very young. Nightingale doesn't think she's that much younger, certainly not compared to Rune and Talaysen.
I mean, yeah but that's not saying much. That said, I THINK Magpie's probably supposed to be in her early twenties, to his late twenties. (Since he's ten years older than Jaysen, who is presented as being pretty young.) But we'll see.
Nightingale stops poking at him though, noting that sudden romantic leanings aren't his ownly worry. She's got similar feelings, attributing it to them being Roma - feeling the change in the air and the stirring of ill-tidings to come.
Eh, I'm not really a fan of this "let's make a real world ethnicity all mystic" thing that is really common when it comes to the treatment of Roma people.
That said, this might be less that and more of a "oppressed people picking up on bad vibes faster than the white folk" thing. Which, fair enough.
Oh, hey, Magpie's turn to be the viewpoint character. Oh boy.
You know how I said she was more likable this chapter? WELL.
Magpie (Jessamyn, she thought defiantly, I am still, underneath it all, Jessamyn the players’ daughter) stood alone in shadow, watching Raven and Nightingale, and feeling absolutely horrid. Her stomach was upset, and her earlier elation had quite vanished the moment she had seen those two together.
This was ridiculous, worse than ridiculous. She was herself, complete, self-sufficient as she’d had to be ever since childhood; she wasn’t the sort to find herself drawn to-to a penniless, shiftless, not-to-be-trusted [Rom]!
WOW.
Okay. Interesting choice to make our obvious female lead character a fucking racist.
Admittedly, she has no idea that Raven's issues right now are because he's worried about the whole group and what they're likely to face. But even if Raven and Nightingale WERE fucking, that'd be none of her damn business. And even if she IS jealous, that's no excuse for racism.
Because she's the female love interest, we get her eye-view of Raven himself.
It’s the spell of the music, she told herself. That’s all it is. You don’t have time for complications. Besides, the man wasn’t at all what she usually thought of as handsome, not with that wild thatch of black hair framing a sharp, saturnine face: he looked, if she was thoroughly honest about it, like a bandit, a tricky, particularly dangerous one at that. That dramatic black eye patch certainly didn’t help. Nor did the fact that he went out of his way to cultivate a rakehell manner. Magpie had overheard him telling one of the ladies who’d come to see them perform (and maybe, the young woman thought wryly, to arrange a private performance from Raven) that he’d lost his eye in a desperate, heroic battle with an evil wizard.
A wizard, ha. More likely he lost it to a jealous husband!
But ….when he played the fiddle, that mocking face became serious, quietly intense, almost beautiful. Magpie suspected-no, knew-that while Raven might not take many things seriously, music was definitely one of the few things he did respect.
Okay, lady, you JUST met the guy last chapter. And all he did there was talk some animals out of a ditch, joke around a bit, and then set up a meeting so that you all could decide what to do about the Guild.
I might think Raven's a himbo, but that's because I'm listening to his internal monologue. YOU are just a racist git.
But I do glimpse the one thing I actually remember about this book: the running joke where Raven constantly gives completely different explanations for how he lost his eye.
There's definitely a lot of dramatic angst here. She's very jealous of Nightingale in a way that honestly makes it seem like Magpie's into her. But also really exoticized and fetishized.
Nightingale is mysterious, exotic, like a wild bird with a heartbreaking song and paintbox plumage. And I-I’m about as mysterious as-well, as nice, plain, good-for-you bread. Nightingale was so very beautiful, with her dark, exotic looks. And I look, well-wholesome!
Oh, and there was more: Nightingale was so very blatantly a wielder of Bardic Magic, while not a spark of arcane powers lurked in Magpie. And Nightingale was a [Rom], an unfettered, free, wonderful creature, the kind of woman who simply embodied all the romance of the open road. She’d probably pine away, caged up in a city.
Then we get an info-dump of Magpie's backstory. She was raised by traveling players. Dead dad, drunk (but pleasant) uncle, a mom with no head for business. So basically Magpie (or "Jessamyn") had been in charge of keeping everyone fed and clothed and getting along. Mom eventually settled down with a new man, and Magpie's on her own.
And well, this:
Wonderful. I can run a business or play just about any woodwind well enough to earn a living: thank you, Mother, wherever you are, for that much. But just because I am myself, not some simpering little idiot without two thoughts to spare, I scare off every man I meet. Well, no, not every man. There were always some who weren’t intimidated by a strong-willed, independent woman, though she hadn’t met any of them yet.
I mean, last chapter, you were incredibly hostile for no reason. And in this chapter, you're a racist, blatantly denigrating and exoticizing people for being Roma. So maybe it's you.
Also, given that her dream is a house or cottage - a secure place with no wandering, she probably shouldn't date a nomad? Stay away from Raven, okay?
And look at how she thinks of HIM:
Or had she? What about Raven? At first he’d seemed just as empty-headed as all the other good-looking men she’d met. But… he didn’t seem to mind her outspoken nature. And he certainly didn’t seem to mind her musical talents, nor did he seem to see her as some kind of competition! Their duet had been-
No. Raven, Magpie reminded herself sternly, belonged to Nightingale. She was not a poacher!
You literally JUST met the guy and immediately decided he was empty-headed. But it is kind of interesting that she doesn't want to poach on Nightingale's claim. I still kind of feel like Magpie's into Nightingale, but honestly, both Nightingale and Raven deserve better.
(Tangentially, I took a moment to look up both Nightingale and Raven's actual first names. Aysah and Reshan. Not sure if they'll come up here or not, but I like trivia.)
Magpie's still monologuing by the way. She's cautious. She's always worried about money and how to support herself without "selling more than her music", which is something that I'm sure none of these other traveling musicians have ever had to worry about...
She also thinks about how, if the Guild took women, she'd likely have joined immediately. She might not be happy, but she'd have been secure. And okay, that's fair, that's the only thing she said that I sympathize with.
Anyway, we time skip: a week has passed, and Raven tries to convince himself that there's nothing to worry about. Their "dancing ground" is crowded and popular, and everyone's doing very well. But now Raven's worried about the long-term problems, and what the Guild might be plotting.
And I admit, while he came across as an inconsistent himbo in the first chapter, he's pretty solid here. I can see a bit better why Talaysen picked him.
Anyway, he's suddenly accosted by Lerrin the Lute-Maker who tells him to look at strings. He has news though, and he wants to share because the Free Bards have been good for business. Apparently the King is about to pass a law banning streetbusking altogether, but the Guild doesn't want the Free Bards to know about it.
Wait, what?
I mean, yeah, that puts the kibosh in all of my ideas to combat the Guild, but that's a ridiculous approach, and one that can't remotely be enforceable.
Anyway, the rationale is that "[their] type of music" (and isn't that a loaded phrase) causes congestion, street crime, pick-pocketing and fighting. Lerrin disagrees of course, but they can't go against the king.
Raven thanks him and spirals a bit. Larger taverns are now only able to hire Guild musicians (and where, again, are they getting these musicians? How many could there possibly be to support this?), but there's not enough smaller taverns or houses of pleasure to support all the musicians.
But anyway, as unenforceable as I think this is in the long run, it's certainly going to be a problem for anyone caught doing it with some very nasty consequences. So yeah, this is a pretty good cliffhanger. The chapter ends here.