A Cast of Corbies - Chapter Fourteen
Sep. 23rd, 2025 02:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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i_read_whatLast chapter, Magpie showed us a glimpse of what the future is likely to look like for these two love birds. Namely, a screaming match whenever Raven ever speaks to a woman again. Great. Love it.
There was at least an apology, but as Donal showed us many times in Legacy of the Sword, acknowledgment and guilt only really matters if it prompts an actual change in behavior and I'm a little cynical about that prospect at this stage.
So this chapter starts with the Free Bards visiting the ducal palace again. Magpie is, of course, pretty negative about this, pointing out that while the Duke seems to genuinely enjoy the music, they haven't learned anything about the anti-busking edicts that I kind of forgot about over the course of the book.
I rather like this bit:
True enough. Not one of the servants-who, in a normal aristocratic household, knew everything- would exchange more than a few coolly courteous words with them, and the Duke, egalitarian soul though he was, was hardly about to gossip with commoners. But Raven, eying a buxom young servant girl who, judging from her plain, serviceable outfit, was hardly of the upper rank of servants, grinned suddenly. “I think,” he murmured, “I just developed a raging thirst. Can’t sing on a dry throat, after all.”
“Raven, wait, you can’t—”
I feel like, maybe, if we'd seen this kind of thing a bit more often, or at ALL, in this book, maybe Magpie's accusations wouldn't seem quite so out of nowhere. I mean, Raven's obviously going to flirt for information and, to her credit, Magpie actually acknowledges this in the next paragraph - and it doesn't fix the possessory aspect of her behavior - it would at least show some kind of pattern of behavior that she's responding to.
Magpie then notices a cute male servant giving her an interested eye and decides what's good for the gander is good for the goose and decides to ask him for a tour.
On one hand, I want to bitch about the hypocrisy, but on the other hand, flirting for information is absolutely in the repertoire of a fantasy bard. And honestly, I don't go into books wanting to hate a lead character, so I'm going to try to give her a fair shake here.
Magpie realizes that the boy she's flirting with is younger than she thought, "barely old enough to shave" and "very possibly too young to have yet learned proper caution".
...that sounds very predatory, to be honest. Flirting for information is fair game, of course, but I still feel a little skeeved out.
We switch to Raven, who is also being kind of skeevy here:
Across the table, the servant girl rattled on about one silly thing after another.
Watching all that nice, healthy, richly curved woman-flesh jiggling pleasantly with every move she made, Raven thought with a touch of self-mockery that if only he were here with no other motive than entertainment he might not be quite so bored….
If only he could get her to just stop chattering for a moment! He was learning more about the personal lives of the cleaning staff and the kitchen help of the ducal palace than he ever wanted to know-and not one shred of information that was of any real use. Raven leaned forward as though totally engrossed, and took one small, work-roughened hand in his own. The girl reddened most intriguingly all the way down into the top of her not-quite-concealed bosom, but kept right on chattering.
Maybe it's the ace in me, but the blatant objectification bothers me. And it annoys me more that we're fourteen chapters in and we're only just seeing this sort of attitude from our lead character. We've seen him interact with women. We've seen him be attracted to women. It wasn't like this.
That said, I do enjoy seeing Bards charm information. The maid babbles on and on, but eventually gets to interesting information. And I'm wondering if this is a case of an author writing a character with skills that the author doesn't possess. Look at this:
“And such a fine man he is! A true friend of the people- No, no, I mean it. He nearly got in trouble with the King’s own man the other day, arguing it wasn’t right to-to—” Her voice took on the abstracted air of someone trying to quote from memory.
”’-take away the livelihood of poor folk.’ ”
“Ah! Was he talking about street-busking?”
The girl looked at him blankly. “Lordy, no. About me new tax on woolens. And isn’t that a stupid tax? Folks need their woolens, but if they have to pay so much for ‘em they can’t afford ‘em, they’ll—”
“Nothing about street-busking?” Raven interrupted.
“Why, no. Not a word.” She beamed at him. “Would you like another beer?” Only if it means you ‘ll drink one, too-and give me a few moments of silence! Raven thought desperately, and grimly kept smiling.
I really don't think an experienced information gatherer would be so blatantly single focused here. At least now outloud like this. And it's not like you guys haven't speculated about the connection between the taxes and prohibitive laws in ALL directions, not just barding.
Even in this series, I can't really imagine Taliesin or Gwyna being so clumsy in their information gathering. (I feel like Rune or Kestrel would be less inclined to the talking part of info-gathering and would be more likely to quietly eavesdrop in a corner.)
Magpie is equally bored. She's disappointed that such a fine-looking young man would "have nothing between his ears but a passion for history and architecture". I mean, the dude does work in a palace. Is it that surprising that he might enjoy aspects of life there?
I do understand that Magpie's less interested in the Duke's grandfather or columns of Darric marble, but to be honest, I'd rather listen to that tour than spend time with Magpie. Looks like we all lose here.
It is kind of funny seeing her try not to be overtly hateful though.
And gossip that was over three hundred years old was hardly going to do her any good! “My,” she said, before he could get started on a lecture about a series of portraits of very dull-looking people, “you really do know this palace.”
He beamed. “It’s something of a hobby of mine. I try to learn every detail about it.”
“No, really?” she said ingenuously, hoping she did not sound as sarcastic as she felt. If she did, the sarcasm went right over his head. He nodded fervently.
That's pretty bitchy, Mags. There is a rather funny note when she pushes for more current gossip and the guy mentions giving a tour to two Royal Advisors who suddenly remember having an urgent mission only an hour into the tour. Magpie realizes that the Duke was clearly using this guy as a means to politely get rid of the annoying advisors.
But sadly for Magpie, the guy doesn't remember the advisors saying anything useful. She reunites with Raven and they commiserate about their miserable attempts at espionage. It's actually a kind of cute moment.
But yeah, they have no information. Raven wonders if they can ask the Duke outright but agrees with Magpie's aghast "no!". But really, why not?
I mean, obviously the Duke might refuse to answer. But he's clearly friendly with the theater. He's allowing them to play for him. I'm not saying they should push and prod the guy, but I feel like there's a way to diplomatically broach the subject of their own livelihoods.
Things get a bit tenser though when they get to the music room and encounter Guild Bards there too. It starts off well:
“Guild Bards,” Raven muttered under his breath. “What are they doing here?” The Guild musicians were wondering pretty much the same thing, but more loudly. “We hardly expected to have to share our recital with such street scum,” one announced to the servant who had found Raven and Magpie.
Okay, look, I get that Guild Bards are The Worst and we're supposed to dislike them. But they're also supposed to be trained to perform for nobility and in courts all the time. It's not that I disbelieve they'd be snobs, but I feel like they'd do it in more of a sly queen bee kind of way rather than openly antagonize their host.
I mean, look at this:
The man who seemed to be the leader of the Guild troupe, a slender, gray-eyed man of middle years, a fiddler judging from the case tucked under one arm, granted Raven the merest dip of the head. “There does, indeed. While your…. noises are probably just what the swarm who attend the theater expects, I am certain the Duke of Kingsford does not wish to hear such things here in his palace.”
“How strange,” Raven countered, “considering he sent for us.”
The leader sniffed, superciliously. “I find that rather difficult to believe.”
The servants brought them in there, you dumbass. It's a palace with guards. This might have worked if the bard's supposed to be a young hothead. But this is a guy who should be of Talaysin's status, implicitly. And while I don't doubt that Talaysen could be catty, he wouldn't be sloppy.
Something like "Oh, how kind of the Duke to offer the common folk the chance to listen and learn from actual musicians" would work much better. You still get to insult the rabble, but without insulting your host.
Instead, we get this:
Did I say something too complex and difficult for you?” Raven asked ever so gently, as if to a village idiot. “Which words didn’t you understand? I’d be happy to explain them to you.”
The head of the Guild troupe flushed a brilliant scarlet, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “You piece of offal! I should throw you out my—”
A gentle cough made him turn to see their hostess. He reddened again, but this time from embarrassment. “Ah. My lady.” The Guild Bard bowed his finest as Regina, elegant in red-violet silks, came hurrying forward.
Regina, by the way, whispers apologies. Apparently the King sent these guys and expected the Duke to be flattered.
Magpie offers to leave, but Raven decides to stir the pot.
“No …” Raven murmured. “I don’t run from the Guild. Besides,” he added in a much louder voice, flinging himself down in an elegant rose-pink chair, “I don’t often get a chance to hear the Guild’s finest. I’d like to see just what it is that they’re so proud of.” He waved a languid hand at them. “Please, don’t let me stop you.”
“Raven!” hissed a scarlet-faced Magpie, but he ignored her, smiling urbanely at the Guild fiddler. Ah no. He is not a “fiddler. “He is a violinist. He does not concern himself with mere fiddle tunes.
The one thing that I've always liked about Lackey, as opposed to say McCaffrey, is that she's not afraid to let her adversaries show some level of skill. As we see here:
The Guild Bard, gaze never leaving Raven, took out his fiddle-violin-tuning it with care. Without a word, he began the precise, perfectly structured measures of “My Lady s Pleasance.” Raven knew that one; it was a court tune, yes, but unlike a good deal of that type of music, this was a piece with enough challenge to it to make it interesting to any fiddler. The trick, he knew, lay in playing the music exactly as designed, without adding any additional expression yet without letting it become mechanically dull. The Guild Bard wasn’t quite up to managing that last, but his technique was good enough to hold Raven’s intrigued interest, better than the usual lifeless Guild perfection. The man finished with a precise flourish that was a wordless challenge, and Raven grinned and got to his feet, taking out his own fiddle.
Of course, he's not as good as Raven. The narrative tropes haven't gone entirely out the window. But he's good enough to get Raven's genuine attention without mockery.
Raven considers playing the same song, better, but decides that'd be too much of a direct insult. And also, Raven actually doesn't want to insult someone "with such fine technique". How very bard of him.
Instead, he plays to his strengths and goes with a Roma melody: a quiet, thoughtful musing on the countryside, was just deceptively simple enough that he knew the Guild fiddler would appreciate what he was doing.
And it works, he sees grudging admiration in the guy's eyes and ends with a flourish. He encourages the rest of the group to play nicely and goes to get a drink. The Guild fiddler follows.
I rather like this:
“A pity,” the Guild musician said at last. “Such talent as yours should not be wasted.”
Raven raised an eyebrow at him. “I could say the same about yours.”
The Guild Bard frowned. “What I meant was that you should not be forced to waste your time playing for mere commoners. Were you properly Guild-trained- but you’re not. A pity, as I say.”
“Ah, but I am free to go where I will,” Raven said, voice carefully light, “perform where and when and what I will.”
For now,” the Guildsman said darkly.
Would Raven be accepted, I wonder? If I recall, in the Lark and the Wren, there was mention about the Roma men of the Free Bards being as skilled as Guild Bards but having no interest in applying. It doesn't sound like there's an explicit prohibition though.
It's interesting though, because the "dark" response of the Guildsman might not be as triumphant as I originally read it.
The Guildsman brings up the edict, with Raven shrugs about, pointing out that, unlike the Guild Bards, he's not bound to one kingdom, and could easily go to see the Deliambrens, or Birnam, or even Gradford.
Oh, this is interesting:
The Guildsman reddened a little, then paled, and by that Raven knew that he was well aware of the Guilds lack of royal favor in the former land, and the troubles in the latter. According to the word passed by Robin, the Guild might well have been involved with High Bishop Padric, at least in the beginning. If so, they had lost as much, if not more, by that involvement as anyone who had opposed him. But this was a group supposedly sent by the King. Raven decided on a little delicate probing. “Do you, perhaps, know why such an edict came to be passed?”
It sounds like maybe Robin and Kestrel didn't go fleeing into the night after all. I'm glad to hear that.
The Guild Bard response is interesting though:
The Guild Bard hesitated a long while. “No,” he said at last, “quite frankly, I do not. As far as I know, it was none of our doing. But then,” he added wryly, “I cannot speak for what all the Guild does or says. It is a shame, though, that such a musician as yourself should be so penalized-or sent off into other lands in search of employment. Good day to you.”
Raven mulls over the idea that the Guild might NOT be involved with the ban. Of course, Raven admits, it's also possible that this guy is lying or just not informed about Guild affairs. There's not enough to go on.
But I think that there may be something to that idea. I think I mentioned in one of my earlier reviews that the ban on busking - and the whole Bardic Hall thing in general, doesn't really make a lot of sense.
The Guild is pretty exclusive. They don't let just any musician in, after all. And from what we saw of the trials, they expect a lot of pre-existing skill before someone gets accepted. They play for kings and noblemen, MAYBE a really fancy or ritzy tavern or inn might have a Guild performer, but those are upscale.
Street busking might be a threat to one of those new dance halls, sure, but the whole idea of those don't make sense anyway. They're definitely no threat to the kind of Bard Talaysen was, or this guy. And if anything, it's potentially harming their own recruits.
Rune got her start street busking, after all, and there was nothing to say that her story was particularly unique except for her gender. Heron, implicitly, had a similar origin.
And honestly, a direct feud between the Guild Bards and the Free Bards has never made sense. Alanda doesn't have recording masters or copyright laws! They play each other's music! Though she hadn't known it at the time, Rune auditioned with one of Gwyna's songs!
So, while this is a beat that Raven kind of moves past noncommitally, I rather like it. It makes sense.
Raven gets to be pleased that at least one Bardic Guild member now appreciates a Free Bard's music. And that's a fair victory.
-
We switch scenes to the dress rehearsal. Raven and Magpie actually share a cute beat where they react to the Manager's dramatic proclamation.
We get some excerpts/details about the plot of the play and it sounds very cute and funny in that Shakespearean comedy sort of way. But things get exciting and scary when suddenly someone yells out "Fire!"
Everyone freaks a bit because, well, the theater is pretty much wood. They clarify quickly that the theater grounds are NOT on fire. But rather, the Church of St. Bede is.
There's fire brigade, by the way, with "water-wagons", but the fire's so fierce that they'll probably have to let it burn itself out.
Raven wonders about the fierceness and thinks about what Ardis said about curses returning threefold on the caster. He thinks about the protection charm, uneasily.
Regina's also uneasy. She can tell that there's something up with her medal. She asks what he's done. He answers "nothing to harm you", but the chapter ends as she walks away.
Exciting!
There was at least an apology, but as Donal showed us many times in Legacy of the Sword, acknowledgment and guilt only really matters if it prompts an actual change in behavior and I'm a little cynical about that prospect at this stage.
So this chapter starts with the Free Bards visiting the ducal palace again. Magpie is, of course, pretty negative about this, pointing out that while the Duke seems to genuinely enjoy the music, they haven't learned anything about the anti-busking edicts that I kind of forgot about over the course of the book.
I rather like this bit:
True enough. Not one of the servants-who, in a normal aristocratic household, knew everything- would exchange more than a few coolly courteous words with them, and the Duke, egalitarian soul though he was, was hardly about to gossip with commoners. But Raven, eying a buxom young servant girl who, judging from her plain, serviceable outfit, was hardly of the upper rank of servants, grinned suddenly. “I think,” he murmured, “I just developed a raging thirst. Can’t sing on a dry throat, after all.”
“Raven, wait, you can’t—”
I feel like, maybe, if we'd seen this kind of thing a bit more often, or at ALL, in this book, maybe Magpie's accusations wouldn't seem quite so out of nowhere. I mean, Raven's obviously going to flirt for information and, to her credit, Magpie actually acknowledges this in the next paragraph - and it doesn't fix the possessory aspect of her behavior - it would at least show some kind of pattern of behavior that she's responding to.
Magpie then notices a cute male servant giving her an interested eye and decides what's good for the gander is good for the goose and decides to ask him for a tour.
On one hand, I want to bitch about the hypocrisy, but on the other hand, flirting for information is absolutely in the repertoire of a fantasy bard. And honestly, I don't go into books wanting to hate a lead character, so I'm going to try to give her a fair shake here.
Magpie realizes that the boy she's flirting with is younger than she thought, "barely old enough to shave" and "very possibly too young to have yet learned proper caution".
...that sounds very predatory, to be honest. Flirting for information is fair game, of course, but I still feel a little skeeved out.
We switch to Raven, who is also being kind of skeevy here:
Across the table, the servant girl rattled on about one silly thing after another.
Watching all that nice, healthy, richly curved woman-flesh jiggling pleasantly with every move she made, Raven thought with a touch of self-mockery that if only he were here with no other motive than entertainment he might not be quite so bored….
If only he could get her to just stop chattering for a moment! He was learning more about the personal lives of the cleaning staff and the kitchen help of the ducal palace than he ever wanted to know-and not one shred of information that was of any real use. Raven leaned forward as though totally engrossed, and took one small, work-roughened hand in his own. The girl reddened most intriguingly all the way down into the top of her not-quite-concealed bosom, but kept right on chattering.
Maybe it's the ace in me, but the blatant objectification bothers me. And it annoys me more that we're fourteen chapters in and we're only just seeing this sort of attitude from our lead character. We've seen him interact with women. We've seen him be attracted to women. It wasn't like this.
That said, I do enjoy seeing Bards charm information. The maid babbles on and on, but eventually gets to interesting information. And I'm wondering if this is a case of an author writing a character with skills that the author doesn't possess. Look at this:
“And such a fine man he is! A true friend of the people- No, no, I mean it. He nearly got in trouble with the King’s own man the other day, arguing it wasn’t right to-to—” Her voice took on the abstracted air of someone trying to quote from memory.
”’-take away the livelihood of poor folk.’ ”
“Ah! Was he talking about street-busking?”
The girl looked at him blankly. “Lordy, no. About me new tax on woolens. And isn’t that a stupid tax? Folks need their woolens, but if they have to pay so much for ‘em they can’t afford ‘em, they’ll—”
“Nothing about street-busking?” Raven interrupted.
“Why, no. Not a word.” She beamed at him. “Would you like another beer?” Only if it means you ‘ll drink one, too-and give me a few moments of silence! Raven thought desperately, and grimly kept smiling.
I really don't think an experienced information gatherer would be so blatantly single focused here. At least now outloud like this. And it's not like you guys haven't speculated about the connection between the taxes and prohibitive laws in ALL directions, not just barding.
Even in this series, I can't really imagine Taliesin or Gwyna being so clumsy in their information gathering. (I feel like Rune or Kestrel would be less inclined to the talking part of info-gathering and would be more likely to quietly eavesdrop in a corner.)
Magpie is equally bored. She's disappointed that such a fine-looking young man would "have nothing between his ears but a passion for history and architecture". I mean, the dude does work in a palace. Is it that surprising that he might enjoy aspects of life there?
I do understand that Magpie's less interested in the Duke's grandfather or columns of Darric marble, but to be honest, I'd rather listen to that tour than spend time with Magpie. Looks like we all lose here.
It is kind of funny seeing her try not to be overtly hateful though.
And gossip that was over three hundred years old was hardly going to do her any good! “My,” she said, before he could get started on a lecture about a series of portraits of very dull-looking people, “you really do know this palace.”
He beamed. “It’s something of a hobby of mine. I try to learn every detail about it.”
“No, really?” she said ingenuously, hoping she did not sound as sarcastic as she felt. If she did, the sarcasm went right over his head. He nodded fervently.
That's pretty bitchy, Mags. There is a rather funny note when she pushes for more current gossip and the guy mentions giving a tour to two Royal Advisors who suddenly remember having an urgent mission only an hour into the tour. Magpie realizes that the Duke was clearly using this guy as a means to politely get rid of the annoying advisors.
But sadly for Magpie, the guy doesn't remember the advisors saying anything useful. She reunites with Raven and they commiserate about their miserable attempts at espionage. It's actually a kind of cute moment.
But yeah, they have no information. Raven wonders if they can ask the Duke outright but agrees with Magpie's aghast "no!". But really, why not?
I mean, obviously the Duke might refuse to answer. But he's clearly friendly with the theater. He's allowing them to play for him. I'm not saying they should push and prod the guy, but I feel like there's a way to diplomatically broach the subject of their own livelihoods.
Things get a bit tenser though when they get to the music room and encounter Guild Bards there too. It starts off well:
“Guild Bards,” Raven muttered under his breath. “What are they doing here?” The Guild musicians were wondering pretty much the same thing, but more loudly. “We hardly expected to have to share our recital with such street scum,” one announced to the servant who had found Raven and Magpie.
Okay, look, I get that Guild Bards are The Worst and we're supposed to dislike them. But they're also supposed to be trained to perform for nobility and in courts all the time. It's not that I disbelieve they'd be snobs, but I feel like they'd do it in more of a sly queen bee kind of way rather than openly antagonize their host.
I mean, look at this:
The man who seemed to be the leader of the Guild troupe, a slender, gray-eyed man of middle years, a fiddler judging from the case tucked under one arm, granted Raven the merest dip of the head. “There does, indeed. While your…. noises are probably just what the swarm who attend the theater expects, I am certain the Duke of Kingsford does not wish to hear such things here in his palace.”
“How strange,” Raven countered, “considering he sent for us.”
The leader sniffed, superciliously. “I find that rather difficult to believe.”
The servants brought them in there, you dumbass. It's a palace with guards. This might have worked if the bard's supposed to be a young hothead. But this is a guy who should be of Talaysin's status, implicitly. And while I don't doubt that Talaysen could be catty, he wouldn't be sloppy.
Something like "Oh, how kind of the Duke to offer the common folk the chance to listen and learn from actual musicians" would work much better. You still get to insult the rabble, but without insulting your host.
Instead, we get this:
Did I say something too complex and difficult for you?” Raven asked ever so gently, as if to a village idiot. “Which words didn’t you understand? I’d be happy to explain them to you.”
The head of the Guild troupe flushed a brilliant scarlet, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “You piece of offal! I should throw you out my—”
A gentle cough made him turn to see their hostess. He reddened again, but this time from embarrassment. “Ah. My lady.” The Guild Bard bowed his finest as Regina, elegant in red-violet silks, came hurrying forward.
Regina, by the way, whispers apologies. Apparently the King sent these guys and expected the Duke to be flattered.
Magpie offers to leave, but Raven decides to stir the pot.
“No …” Raven murmured. “I don’t run from the Guild. Besides,” he added in a much louder voice, flinging himself down in an elegant rose-pink chair, “I don’t often get a chance to hear the Guild’s finest. I’d like to see just what it is that they’re so proud of.” He waved a languid hand at them. “Please, don’t let me stop you.”
“Raven!” hissed a scarlet-faced Magpie, but he ignored her, smiling urbanely at the Guild fiddler. Ah no. He is not a “fiddler. “He is a violinist. He does not concern himself with mere fiddle tunes.
The one thing that I've always liked about Lackey, as opposed to say McCaffrey, is that she's not afraid to let her adversaries show some level of skill. As we see here:
The Guild Bard, gaze never leaving Raven, took out his fiddle-violin-tuning it with care. Without a word, he began the precise, perfectly structured measures of “My Lady s Pleasance.” Raven knew that one; it was a court tune, yes, but unlike a good deal of that type of music, this was a piece with enough challenge to it to make it interesting to any fiddler. The trick, he knew, lay in playing the music exactly as designed, without adding any additional expression yet without letting it become mechanically dull. The Guild Bard wasn’t quite up to managing that last, but his technique was good enough to hold Raven’s intrigued interest, better than the usual lifeless Guild perfection. The man finished with a precise flourish that was a wordless challenge, and Raven grinned and got to his feet, taking out his own fiddle.
Of course, he's not as good as Raven. The narrative tropes haven't gone entirely out the window. But he's good enough to get Raven's genuine attention without mockery.
Raven considers playing the same song, better, but decides that'd be too much of a direct insult. And also, Raven actually doesn't want to insult someone "with such fine technique". How very bard of him.
Instead, he plays to his strengths and goes with a Roma melody: a quiet, thoughtful musing on the countryside, was just deceptively simple enough that he knew the Guild fiddler would appreciate what he was doing.
And it works, he sees grudging admiration in the guy's eyes and ends with a flourish. He encourages the rest of the group to play nicely and goes to get a drink. The Guild fiddler follows.
I rather like this:
“A pity,” the Guild musician said at last. “Such talent as yours should not be wasted.”
Raven raised an eyebrow at him. “I could say the same about yours.”
The Guild Bard frowned. “What I meant was that you should not be forced to waste your time playing for mere commoners. Were you properly Guild-trained- but you’re not. A pity, as I say.”
“Ah, but I am free to go where I will,” Raven said, voice carefully light, “perform where and when and what I will.”
For now,” the Guildsman said darkly.
Would Raven be accepted, I wonder? If I recall, in the Lark and the Wren, there was mention about the Roma men of the Free Bards being as skilled as Guild Bards but having no interest in applying. It doesn't sound like there's an explicit prohibition though.
It's interesting though, because the "dark" response of the Guildsman might not be as triumphant as I originally read it.
The Guildsman brings up the edict, with Raven shrugs about, pointing out that, unlike the Guild Bards, he's not bound to one kingdom, and could easily go to see the Deliambrens, or Birnam, or even Gradford.
Oh, this is interesting:
The Guildsman reddened a little, then paled, and by that Raven knew that he was well aware of the Guilds lack of royal favor in the former land, and the troubles in the latter. According to the word passed by Robin, the Guild might well have been involved with High Bishop Padric, at least in the beginning. If so, they had lost as much, if not more, by that involvement as anyone who had opposed him. But this was a group supposedly sent by the King. Raven decided on a little delicate probing. “Do you, perhaps, know why such an edict came to be passed?”
It sounds like maybe Robin and Kestrel didn't go fleeing into the night after all. I'm glad to hear that.
The Guild Bard response is interesting though:
The Guild Bard hesitated a long while. “No,” he said at last, “quite frankly, I do not. As far as I know, it was none of our doing. But then,” he added wryly, “I cannot speak for what all the Guild does or says. It is a shame, though, that such a musician as yourself should be so penalized-or sent off into other lands in search of employment. Good day to you.”
Raven mulls over the idea that the Guild might NOT be involved with the ban. Of course, Raven admits, it's also possible that this guy is lying or just not informed about Guild affairs. There's not enough to go on.
But I think that there may be something to that idea. I think I mentioned in one of my earlier reviews that the ban on busking - and the whole Bardic Hall thing in general, doesn't really make a lot of sense.
The Guild is pretty exclusive. They don't let just any musician in, after all. And from what we saw of the trials, they expect a lot of pre-existing skill before someone gets accepted. They play for kings and noblemen, MAYBE a really fancy or ritzy tavern or inn might have a Guild performer, but those are upscale.
Street busking might be a threat to one of those new dance halls, sure, but the whole idea of those don't make sense anyway. They're definitely no threat to the kind of Bard Talaysen was, or this guy. And if anything, it's potentially harming their own recruits.
Rune got her start street busking, after all, and there was nothing to say that her story was particularly unique except for her gender. Heron, implicitly, had a similar origin.
And honestly, a direct feud between the Guild Bards and the Free Bards has never made sense. Alanda doesn't have recording masters or copyright laws! They play each other's music! Though she hadn't known it at the time, Rune auditioned with one of Gwyna's songs!
So, while this is a beat that Raven kind of moves past noncommitally, I rather like it. It makes sense.
Raven gets to be pleased that at least one Bardic Guild member now appreciates a Free Bard's music. And that's a fair victory.
-
We switch scenes to the dress rehearsal. Raven and Magpie actually share a cute beat where they react to the Manager's dramatic proclamation.
We get some excerpts/details about the plot of the play and it sounds very cute and funny in that Shakespearean comedy sort of way. But things get exciting and scary when suddenly someone yells out "Fire!"
Everyone freaks a bit because, well, the theater is pretty much wood. They clarify quickly that the theater grounds are NOT on fire. But rather, the Church of St. Bede is.
There's fire brigade, by the way, with "water-wagons", but the fire's so fierce that they'll probably have to let it burn itself out.
Raven wonders about the fierceness and thinks about what Ardis said about curses returning threefold on the caster. He thinks about the protection charm, uneasily.
Regina's also uneasy. She can tell that there's something up with her medal. She asks what he's done. He answers "nothing to harm you", but the chapter ends as she walks away.
Exciting!