The Lark and the Wren - Chapter Two
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i_read_whatSo last time, we met our heroine, Rune. A hapless girl who works at an inn and dreams about something better. And I made a lot of comparisons to the Harper Hall trilogy, because I'm like that. But hopefully there's a bit more to the story than that.
So we're back with Rune, who has put her fiddle away and is off to do some errands. Her first stop is the stable, which gives us a little bit of worldbuilding: namely that her village (Westhaven) is on a road that sees very little traffic. The land is ruled by a "Sire", who travels the main roads instead. There is the occasional tax collector, but not one of high rank, robbers are quickly dealt with by the townfolk, and there aren't any dangerous supernatural places along the road.
This distinction feels like it will be important later.
We also learn that Rune has a slight problem. Jib, the stableboy, who is Rune's only real friend, has also started to "try to court her". Rune is definitely not into him as more than a friend though, and she doesn't really think he's into her either. It's just that Jib is too low class to court a village girl, and at the inn, there's only Rune and Maeve.
Rune's point of view elaborates a bit more on why she's not attracted to Jib: he's a year younger than her, not very bright, and not very ambitious. He does have one goal: he'd like to become a local horse-trader that would sell the ponies that are bred locally to bigger traders who would then take them to the City Faires. Rune is a bit aghast that he doesn't even dream of taking them there himself.
And well, Jib's also not very good-looking. And you know what? That's fair. I think we all get so used to seeing girls shamed for not giving the dorky or plain boys a chance in media, but there is nothing wrong with wanting to date someone that you find attractive.
So she helps Jib out in the stable (while pretending to mistake his suggestive coughs for an illness), and we get more info about how the village works. It's interesting in context, but not very interesting for a recap, especially when we can guess that Rune will end up in new locations soon enough.
Rune is a little mean in her thoughts about Jib, because when she sees how nervous he is, she starts to worry that he's planning to ask her something romantic in nature, "at least by Jib's primitive standards of romance". Aw. You don't have to like the guy like that, Rune, but you could be a bit nicer.
Fortunately, they're interrupted by a newcomer to the inn: he's wearing ribbons on his sleeves and carrying a lute. They flip a coin for who gets to help with his horse (they do this by spitting on one side and calling wet or dry...kids.) Rune wins.
When she gets to the inn, she finds out the man's name (Heron), and he'll be playing tonight. Rune is sent out to inform the Guildsmen that there will be an entertainer at the inn tonight, and the Guildsmen will tell everyone else.
Rune is resigned about the trip, knowing that if she goes early, the guildsmen may decide to eat lighter at home so they can fill up on sausage rolls and cheese and beer while listening to the minstrel. Rune is happy to think she'll get to hear some new songs.
Rune's trip is quickly interrupted though by two village girls: Joyse and Amanda. They're not very nice, and Amanda, in particular, is Stara's rival for the innkeeper's attention. We're told she'd do just about anything to become the new wife, "except surrendering her virginity before taking wedding vows".
So we get our girl-clash here. I'm not sure whether to read this as a "not like other girls" situation or not. Rune doesn't really seem to be judging these girls. She just doesn't like them because they're mean to her. The issue seems to be more class related: Rune is a bastard.
There is a bit that I don't really like though: rather a lot is made of Amanda's weight. Rune compares her to a pony, and she gets some unflattering description about her round face. That's not really necessary Rune. Or Ms. Lackey.
So the girls have their spat. Joyse stops Amanda before it gets physical: apparently the last time a fight got physical, Rune won quite easily, as she's taller and stronger than even most of the boys, and learned some dirty fighting tricks from the stable master. The girls run away, but Rune knows it's more of a draw. As long as the girls stick to verbal confrontations, Rune is powerless.
Rune is satisfied that at least this time she won the confrontation and thinks about how she also protects Jib from the other kids. She does have ambitious ideas for revenge though:
One of these days I'm going to write a song about them, she thought angrily. About Amanda, Joyse, all of them. All of them pretending to be so much better than me . . . but Amanda steals her mother's egg-money, and Joyse only got Thom because her father promised to help his father cheat on his taxes. And they don't know I know about it. That'd serve them right, to go to a Faire and hear some strange minstrel singing a song mocking them.
Not a one of them ever missed a chance to tell her that she was scum. It would be nice to watch their faces as someone told them exactly what they were. And why not? When Raven came, maybe she could get him to help her with that song. With his help, surely it would be picked up by other singers.
Hah, yes. Go for bardic revenge. It's petty, but what bard isn't?
So Rune has an uneventful trip to the first few guildmen's houses. But when she gets to the smithy, things go sideways. She does manage to inform the blacksmith, but as she leaves, she's stopped by Jon, the blacksmith's son.
We're told a few notable things about his appearance: first, that half of his teeth are missing. Second, he's grown over the winter, enough that Rune starts to become considerably less confident in her ability to win a fight. Especially since Jon is now his father's apprentice, and smithwork has bulked him up considerably.
It gets worse when two farm boys come out to block her escape. Rune tries to brazen it out, but it goes bad REALLY fast as Jon the boys accuse her of sleeping with Jib and then proposition her. They think Stara's sleeping with Jeoff, and accuse her and Rune by extension of being whores.
And now it gets ugly: Jon grabs her breast and forces a kiss on hers. Rune freezes but then lets his tongue into her mouth, and bites on it hard, before kneeing him in the crotch. Good girl! She gets free of the guys and runs for it.
Fortunately, she's still faster than the boys, and she gets out of the village proper and to her favorite place in the woods: a giant oak tree which she can climb and hide in the branches. She gets there and quite understandably freaks out for a while.
She eventually manages to calm down, but she realizes that she's in deep shit:
One thing was certain; her immunity had vanished with the snows of winter. The girls might leave her alone, but she was completely at the mercy of the boys, even in daylight. The girls might even have set their brothers on her; that would certainly fit Amanda and Joyse's personalities. And that this attack had taken place in daylight meant that they were not particularly worried about hiding their actions from their parents.
That meant their parents didn't care what they were doing to her. If anything happened to her, nothing would be done to punish her attackers. That had always been true-but the threat of attack had never included rape before.
The boys had said it all; her mother was a whore, she was the daughter of a whore, therefore she was a whore. No one would believe anything else. Anything that happened to her would be her own fault, brought on her own actions, or simply by being born of bad blood.
Not even the Priest would help, unless she took holy vows. And even then-he might not believe that she was an innocent, and he might refuse her the protection of the Church. She had nowhere to turn to for help, and no one to depend on but herself.
How long was it going to be before she was cornered by a gang she couldn't escape? It was only the purest luck, and the fact that they hadn't expected her to fight back, that had let her get away this time.
I really like this bit. I like the way poor Rune's thoughts are circling around themselves and stoking the fires of her panic.
Personally I suspect that at least some of the townsfolk won't be as unsympathetic as she thinks. But it makes sense that a traumatized teenager would fear the worst, especially given that she's had to live with the stigma of being illegitimate her whole life.
I also like the note of self-awareness, she won because of surprise and desperation, not because she's an amazingly good fighter.
Anyway, Rune finally gets herself calm enough to return to the inn. Sadly, she decides to keep quiet about the attack. She doesn't think Jeoff would do anything to risk his customers, and Stara and Annie would think she brought it on herself (...Stara, perhaps, but Annie seemed gruffly sympathetic. But Rune is understandably not in the clearest state of mind right now.) Jib would try to defend her and he wouldn't win.
Rune realizes that there are ways to protect herself though. She'll trade chores with Jib so he'll run the errands, even if the work might stiffen her hands.
Happily, even though she hadn't delivered all the messages, word spread and inn is starting to fill up. Rune changes her torn shirt for her spare (which is loose and baggy), and notices the bruising on her breast, realizing it's going to hurt more later. She vows to find a way to make Jon hurt as much as he'd hurt her.
She hopes she did that already and wonders how he'll explain his swollen tongue. She also thinks his privates probably ache more than her breast, which makes her cheerful. She ties her hair back too. She doesn't know if any of the adults think like the boys did, but she doesn't want to take a chance. Stara is safe behind the bar, but she's out in the open.
I really do like the way Ms. Lackey is letting Rune's trauma echo through her thoughts and actions. Rune and Stara have served at the inn for years, and Stara used to serve out front like Rune did. There's never been an attack. But Rune is scared and hypervigilant right now. It feels like a realistic response. I love that she's coping with what happened, but she's not immediately okay.
(And she might have a point when she thinks about how Rose would never allow anyone to bother "the wenches". One would hope Stara would protect her daughter, but it's a sad indication of her maternal tendencies so far that Rune doesn't seem to believe she would.)
Things get a bit happier when Rune starts serving. The young minstrel sees her and smiles, and while he's a young man, his smile is "plain and friendly" and very unlike Jon's leer. It makes Rune feel warm. And this is nice:
"I understand you're a fiddler," he said, quietly, taking his time about choosing a mug. "Will you be playing tonight? Do you think you'd like to try a duet?"
If only I could- But Stara had given her direct orders. She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
"That's too bad," he answered, making it sound as if he really was disappointed that she wouldn't be fiddling. "I was hoping to hear you; well, let me know if I do anything new to you, all right? I'll make sure to try and repeat the new songs so you can pick them up."
Aw, I like you, Master Heron.
And I'll give Ms. Lackey credit: I usually don't find her to be a particularly subtle writer, but the little hints in this scene are quite well done.
As the night goes on, Rune notices a change. Some of the village men, men who she thinks wouldn't have dreamed of taking liberties a month ago, seem to be pinching and touching Maeve. Jeoff and Stara aren't doing anything about it. I wonder if she's right, or if this is something that might have been happening for a lot longer, but Rune herself never noticed. Either way, it's definitely making Rune very nervous, and very grateful that she's made herself less of a target. Some of the men have even called her "boy".
We're told that Master Heron lives up to his word. When Rune nods at a song, he makes sure to play it again later so she can learn it. Aw.
When he takes a break, the villagers ask questions. First, he's asked if he's a Guild Bard. He's not, and he shows them how to tell: guildsmen wear purple ribbons with gold or silver depending on rank. He notes that Guildsmen aren't for "the likes of you and me" as they play for "no less than Sires"
Heron identifies himself as "a rover, a Free Bard" but does tell them that he has been asked to play for the Sire after a faire, which makes the mayor very happy. He's asked the difference between a Guild Bard and Heron.
Heron explains: there's a process to become a Guild Bard. Anyone who wants to become one has to sign up for a three day trial, and few make it. Heron himself never tried, claiming that he's too much of a coward to face an audience of musicians.
The trial process is pretty interesting:
Day 1: the candidate sings and plays their best instrument. They choose the song, but they have to adapt it to whatever kind of tune that the judges ask for mid-performance (jig, lament, whatever.)
Day 2: the candidate sings and plays a second instrument, choosing from a provided list. Then they drum for the next candidate.
Day 3: they either play the first instrument or the third, but the song must be an original composition.
This sparks Rune's ambition, but she has a really big problem, she doesn't know a second instrument:
Even if she could find someone with a lute or mandolin to sell, she could never afford it. She could never afford the lessons to learn to play it, either-and that was assuming she could find a teacher. And if she waited for minstrels to come along to teach her, the way she'd learned fiddle, she'd be an old woman of eighteen or twenty by the time she was ready to go to the Midsummer Faire and the trials.
Hee. An old woman of eighteen or twenty. Adorable.
But she does have a genuine problem. While she can play a shepherd's flute, (...another similarity to Menolly's pipes?), she doesn't think the Guild will be impressed.
That said, the Mayor conveniently asks a question that puts everything in a new context:
"I heard that no one touches a Guild Bard or a Guild Minstrel, am I right, Master Heron?" he asked.
The minstrel nodded, though his face was in shadow now, and Rune couldn't read his expression. His voice held no inflection at all. "That's the truth, sir," he replied. "Only the Church has a right to bring them to trial, and if anyone harms a Guild musician, the Church will see to it that they're found and punished. I'm told that's because a good half of the Guild apprentices go into the Church eventually-and because musicians go everywhere, sometimes into dangerous situations."
I picked this passage for three reasons:
1) The question is really really awkwardly asked, Ms. Lackey. I know that Rune needs to hear this answer to get her to realize that she NEEDS to do this. But I don't buy that a real guy would ask it this way.
2) That said, I love what she did with Heron's response. Because I think he's saying something very different than Rune is hearing. Rune is hearing "no one can hurt a Guild Bard." And while that's part of his answer, that's not all of it. That line about only the Church having the right to bring them to trial is a nicely ominous note. No one can hurt a Guild Bard, but does that mean they can stop a Guild Bard from hurting them?
But Rune's a young girl whose world just got a hell of a lot more terrifying. It makes complete sense that she's only hearing the first part. Hell, even if she did hear the second part, it's not like she wants to hurt people. She wants protection and this is the way to get it. She vows she will find a way to get that second instrument.
3) I can't resist one more Harper Hall comparison here: but I really appreciate this scene after spending two whole books without an answer to "What does a Harper DO, exactly?" Now here, we get our answers very quickly. We know that minstrels and bards entertain and compose music. We know that Guild Bards are a specially recognized, church/state sanctioned group of musicians with their own perks, privileges and protections. We can see immediately why Rune wants to be a Guild Bard specifically and what she understands it to mean.
You know, as much as I think doing these reviews has made me accentuate the negative of a lot of what I read, I think they also help me appreciate things better too. I never would have noticed this kind of thing before. (I also appreciate how there's a depiction of attempted sexual assault that is treated as suitable serious and traumatizing, while serving an actual purpose in the plot. It's a low bar, but well, you've seen the books I've reviewed.)
So anyway, our chapter ends here. Rune has her new goal and now she just has to figure out how to get there.
So we're back with Rune, who has put her fiddle away and is off to do some errands. Her first stop is the stable, which gives us a little bit of worldbuilding: namely that her village (Westhaven) is on a road that sees very little traffic. The land is ruled by a "Sire", who travels the main roads instead. There is the occasional tax collector, but not one of high rank, robbers are quickly dealt with by the townfolk, and there aren't any dangerous supernatural places along the road.
This distinction feels like it will be important later.
We also learn that Rune has a slight problem. Jib, the stableboy, who is Rune's only real friend, has also started to "try to court her". Rune is definitely not into him as more than a friend though, and she doesn't really think he's into her either. It's just that Jib is too low class to court a village girl, and at the inn, there's only Rune and Maeve.
Rune's point of view elaborates a bit more on why she's not attracted to Jib: he's a year younger than her, not very bright, and not very ambitious. He does have one goal: he'd like to become a local horse-trader that would sell the ponies that are bred locally to bigger traders who would then take them to the City Faires. Rune is a bit aghast that he doesn't even dream of taking them there himself.
And well, Jib's also not very good-looking. And you know what? That's fair. I think we all get so used to seeing girls shamed for not giving the dorky or plain boys a chance in media, but there is nothing wrong with wanting to date someone that you find attractive.
So she helps Jib out in the stable (while pretending to mistake his suggestive coughs for an illness), and we get more info about how the village works. It's interesting in context, but not very interesting for a recap, especially when we can guess that Rune will end up in new locations soon enough.
Rune is a little mean in her thoughts about Jib, because when she sees how nervous he is, she starts to worry that he's planning to ask her something romantic in nature, "at least by Jib's primitive standards of romance". Aw. You don't have to like the guy like that, Rune, but you could be a bit nicer.
Fortunately, they're interrupted by a newcomer to the inn: he's wearing ribbons on his sleeves and carrying a lute. They flip a coin for who gets to help with his horse (they do this by spitting on one side and calling wet or dry...kids.) Rune wins.
When she gets to the inn, she finds out the man's name (Heron), and he'll be playing tonight. Rune is sent out to inform the Guildsmen that there will be an entertainer at the inn tonight, and the Guildsmen will tell everyone else.
Rune is resigned about the trip, knowing that if she goes early, the guildsmen may decide to eat lighter at home so they can fill up on sausage rolls and cheese and beer while listening to the minstrel. Rune is happy to think she'll get to hear some new songs.
Rune's trip is quickly interrupted though by two village girls: Joyse and Amanda. They're not very nice, and Amanda, in particular, is Stara's rival for the innkeeper's attention. We're told she'd do just about anything to become the new wife, "except surrendering her virginity before taking wedding vows".
So we get our girl-clash here. I'm not sure whether to read this as a "not like other girls" situation or not. Rune doesn't really seem to be judging these girls. She just doesn't like them because they're mean to her. The issue seems to be more class related: Rune is a bastard.
There is a bit that I don't really like though: rather a lot is made of Amanda's weight. Rune compares her to a pony, and she gets some unflattering description about her round face. That's not really necessary Rune. Or Ms. Lackey.
So the girls have their spat. Joyse stops Amanda before it gets physical: apparently the last time a fight got physical, Rune won quite easily, as she's taller and stronger than even most of the boys, and learned some dirty fighting tricks from the stable master. The girls run away, but Rune knows it's more of a draw. As long as the girls stick to verbal confrontations, Rune is powerless.
Rune is satisfied that at least this time she won the confrontation and thinks about how she also protects Jib from the other kids. She does have ambitious ideas for revenge though:
One of these days I'm going to write a song about them, she thought angrily. About Amanda, Joyse, all of them. All of them pretending to be so much better than me . . . but Amanda steals her mother's egg-money, and Joyse only got Thom because her father promised to help his father cheat on his taxes. And they don't know I know about it. That'd serve them right, to go to a Faire and hear some strange minstrel singing a song mocking them.
Not a one of them ever missed a chance to tell her that she was scum. It would be nice to watch their faces as someone told them exactly what they were. And why not? When Raven came, maybe she could get him to help her with that song. With his help, surely it would be picked up by other singers.
Hah, yes. Go for bardic revenge. It's petty, but what bard isn't?
So Rune has an uneventful trip to the first few guildmen's houses. But when she gets to the smithy, things go sideways. She does manage to inform the blacksmith, but as she leaves, she's stopped by Jon, the blacksmith's son.
We're told a few notable things about his appearance: first, that half of his teeth are missing. Second, he's grown over the winter, enough that Rune starts to become considerably less confident in her ability to win a fight. Especially since Jon is now his father's apprentice, and smithwork has bulked him up considerably.
It gets worse when two farm boys come out to block her escape. Rune tries to brazen it out, but it goes bad REALLY fast as Jon the boys accuse her of sleeping with Jib and then proposition her. They think Stara's sleeping with Jeoff, and accuse her and Rune by extension of being whores.
And now it gets ugly: Jon grabs her breast and forces a kiss on hers. Rune freezes but then lets his tongue into her mouth, and bites on it hard, before kneeing him in the crotch. Good girl! She gets free of the guys and runs for it.
Fortunately, she's still faster than the boys, and she gets out of the village proper and to her favorite place in the woods: a giant oak tree which she can climb and hide in the branches. She gets there and quite understandably freaks out for a while.
She eventually manages to calm down, but she realizes that she's in deep shit:
One thing was certain; her immunity had vanished with the snows of winter. The girls might leave her alone, but she was completely at the mercy of the boys, even in daylight. The girls might even have set their brothers on her; that would certainly fit Amanda and Joyse's personalities. And that this attack had taken place in daylight meant that they were not particularly worried about hiding their actions from their parents.
That meant their parents didn't care what they were doing to her. If anything happened to her, nothing would be done to punish her attackers. That had always been true-but the threat of attack had never included rape before.
The boys had said it all; her mother was a whore, she was the daughter of a whore, therefore she was a whore. No one would believe anything else. Anything that happened to her would be her own fault, brought on her own actions, or simply by being born of bad blood.
Not even the Priest would help, unless she took holy vows. And even then-he might not believe that she was an innocent, and he might refuse her the protection of the Church. She had nowhere to turn to for help, and no one to depend on but herself.
How long was it going to be before she was cornered by a gang she couldn't escape? It was only the purest luck, and the fact that they hadn't expected her to fight back, that had let her get away this time.
I really like this bit. I like the way poor Rune's thoughts are circling around themselves and stoking the fires of her panic.
Personally I suspect that at least some of the townsfolk won't be as unsympathetic as she thinks. But it makes sense that a traumatized teenager would fear the worst, especially given that she's had to live with the stigma of being illegitimate her whole life.
I also like the note of self-awareness, she won because of surprise and desperation, not because she's an amazingly good fighter.
Anyway, Rune finally gets herself calm enough to return to the inn. Sadly, she decides to keep quiet about the attack. She doesn't think Jeoff would do anything to risk his customers, and Stara and Annie would think she brought it on herself (...Stara, perhaps, but Annie seemed gruffly sympathetic. But Rune is understandably not in the clearest state of mind right now.) Jib would try to defend her and he wouldn't win.
Rune realizes that there are ways to protect herself though. She'll trade chores with Jib so he'll run the errands, even if the work might stiffen her hands.
Happily, even though she hadn't delivered all the messages, word spread and inn is starting to fill up. Rune changes her torn shirt for her spare (which is loose and baggy), and notices the bruising on her breast, realizing it's going to hurt more later. She vows to find a way to make Jon hurt as much as he'd hurt her.
She hopes she did that already and wonders how he'll explain his swollen tongue. She also thinks his privates probably ache more than her breast, which makes her cheerful. She ties her hair back too. She doesn't know if any of the adults think like the boys did, but she doesn't want to take a chance. Stara is safe behind the bar, but she's out in the open.
I really do like the way Ms. Lackey is letting Rune's trauma echo through her thoughts and actions. Rune and Stara have served at the inn for years, and Stara used to serve out front like Rune did. There's never been an attack. But Rune is scared and hypervigilant right now. It feels like a realistic response. I love that she's coping with what happened, but she's not immediately okay.
(And she might have a point when she thinks about how Rose would never allow anyone to bother "the wenches". One would hope Stara would protect her daughter, but it's a sad indication of her maternal tendencies so far that Rune doesn't seem to believe she would.)
Things get a bit happier when Rune starts serving. The young minstrel sees her and smiles, and while he's a young man, his smile is "plain and friendly" and very unlike Jon's leer. It makes Rune feel warm. And this is nice:
"I understand you're a fiddler," he said, quietly, taking his time about choosing a mug. "Will you be playing tonight? Do you think you'd like to try a duet?"
If only I could- But Stara had given her direct orders. She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
"That's too bad," he answered, making it sound as if he really was disappointed that she wouldn't be fiddling. "I was hoping to hear you; well, let me know if I do anything new to you, all right? I'll make sure to try and repeat the new songs so you can pick them up."
Aw, I like you, Master Heron.
And I'll give Ms. Lackey credit: I usually don't find her to be a particularly subtle writer, but the little hints in this scene are quite well done.
As the night goes on, Rune notices a change. Some of the village men, men who she thinks wouldn't have dreamed of taking liberties a month ago, seem to be pinching and touching Maeve. Jeoff and Stara aren't doing anything about it. I wonder if she's right, or if this is something that might have been happening for a lot longer, but Rune herself never noticed. Either way, it's definitely making Rune very nervous, and very grateful that she's made herself less of a target. Some of the men have even called her "boy".
We're told that Master Heron lives up to his word. When Rune nods at a song, he makes sure to play it again later so she can learn it. Aw.
When he takes a break, the villagers ask questions. First, he's asked if he's a Guild Bard. He's not, and he shows them how to tell: guildsmen wear purple ribbons with gold or silver depending on rank. He notes that Guildsmen aren't for "the likes of you and me" as they play for "no less than Sires"
Heron identifies himself as "a rover, a Free Bard" but does tell them that he has been asked to play for the Sire after a faire, which makes the mayor very happy. He's asked the difference between a Guild Bard and Heron.
Heron explains: there's a process to become a Guild Bard. Anyone who wants to become one has to sign up for a three day trial, and few make it. Heron himself never tried, claiming that he's too much of a coward to face an audience of musicians.
The trial process is pretty interesting:
Day 1: the candidate sings and plays their best instrument. They choose the song, but they have to adapt it to whatever kind of tune that the judges ask for mid-performance (jig, lament, whatever.)
Day 2: the candidate sings and plays a second instrument, choosing from a provided list. Then they drum for the next candidate.
Day 3: they either play the first instrument or the third, but the song must be an original composition.
This sparks Rune's ambition, but she has a really big problem, she doesn't know a second instrument:
Even if she could find someone with a lute or mandolin to sell, she could never afford it. She could never afford the lessons to learn to play it, either-and that was assuming she could find a teacher. And if she waited for minstrels to come along to teach her, the way she'd learned fiddle, she'd be an old woman of eighteen or twenty by the time she was ready to go to the Midsummer Faire and the trials.
Hee. An old woman of eighteen or twenty. Adorable.
But she does have a genuine problem. While she can play a shepherd's flute, (...another similarity to Menolly's pipes?), she doesn't think the Guild will be impressed.
That said, the Mayor conveniently asks a question that puts everything in a new context:
"I heard that no one touches a Guild Bard or a Guild Minstrel, am I right, Master Heron?" he asked.
The minstrel nodded, though his face was in shadow now, and Rune couldn't read his expression. His voice held no inflection at all. "That's the truth, sir," he replied. "Only the Church has a right to bring them to trial, and if anyone harms a Guild musician, the Church will see to it that they're found and punished. I'm told that's because a good half of the Guild apprentices go into the Church eventually-and because musicians go everywhere, sometimes into dangerous situations."
I picked this passage for three reasons:
1) The question is really really awkwardly asked, Ms. Lackey. I know that Rune needs to hear this answer to get her to realize that she NEEDS to do this. But I don't buy that a real guy would ask it this way.
2) That said, I love what she did with Heron's response. Because I think he's saying something very different than Rune is hearing. Rune is hearing "no one can hurt a Guild Bard." And while that's part of his answer, that's not all of it. That line about only the Church having the right to bring them to trial is a nicely ominous note. No one can hurt a Guild Bard, but does that mean they can stop a Guild Bard from hurting them?
But Rune's a young girl whose world just got a hell of a lot more terrifying. It makes complete sense that she's only hearing the first part. Hell, even if she did hear the second part, it's not like she wants to hurt people. She wants protection and this is the way to get it. She vows she will find a way to get that second instrument.
3) I can't resist one more Harper Hall comparison here: but I really appreciate this scene after spending two whole books without an answer to "What does a Harper DO, exactly?" Now here, we get our answers very quickly. We know that minstrels and bards entertain and compose music. We know that Guild Bards are a specially recognized, church/state sanctioned group of musicians with their own perks, privileges and protections. We can see immediately why Rune wants to be a Guild Bard specifically and what she understands it to mean.
You know, as much as I think doing these reviews has made me accentuate the negative of a lot of what I read, I think they also help me appreciate things better too. I never would have noticed this kind of thing before. (I also appreciate how there's a depiction of attempted sexual assault that is treated as suitable serious and traumatizing, while serving an actual purpose in the plot. It's a low bar, but well, you've seen the books I've reviewed.)
So anyway, our chapter ends here. Rune has her new goal and now she just has to figure out how to get there.
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Date: 2020-07-27 04:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-27 04:26 pm (UTC)