The Lark and the Wren - Chapter Twenty

[kalinara]

So last time, Rune and Talaysen figured out that the nifty tricks they've been working with music are actually a form of magic, and then sat down and then won my affection by immediately sitting down and drafting a rule of ethics for its use.

This time, well, they're going to a Faire and discovering PLOT.



So we rejoin Rune and Talaysen at the Kardown Faire. We're told it's a small Faire, lasting only three days, but because it's a wool-market Faire, it's pretty wealthy. They meet up with Gwyna, as promised. She's already found them a pretty good camping sight, and Rune is very happy to see her.

Happily, they manage to recoup some of their losses, and get an update on what's going on with Gwyna and other Free Bards. Sadly, we don't get to hear the update, but that makes sense as Rune (our viewpoint character for this part of the chapter) is far more concerned with Gwyna herself.

Basically, Gwyna's not been doing very well after the whole "turned into a bird" fiasco. She's understandably very nervous and jumpy, and when she sees anyone in a long robe, she gets very quiet. She split up from Daran (called here "Master Stork" instead of "Master Heron", which makes me tsk at the editors), a week or so after the Midsummer Faire and seems like she hasn't had a good night's sleep since. Poor thing.

I kind of like though that her misadventure hasn't been forgotten. That's a fucking nasty experience for anyone.

Rune is also a bit nervous because Gwyna's carrying more knives now, openly, and Rune's afraid that she might lash out if she feels threatened. (Rune doesn't blame her for that anxiety either, for the record.)

So on the third and last day of the Faire, Rune basically asks Talaysen if he's up for traveling as a trio rather than a duo. Talaysen seems to have been having the same concerns and is completely on board. His only hesitation is, well...privacy. They are newlyweds after all.

Rune reassures him that they'll still be able to have privacy. They'll just ask Gwyna to take a long walk as needed. And it's just this time that Gwyna returns to ask what they're talking about. Gwyna's pretty astute, and she realizes quickly that they're not inviting her simply for companionship.

Rune's pretty straightforward in her answer: Gwyna looks like hell. And well, it's easier for three people to split a night watch than two or one. Gwyna acknowledges that, noting that there's a lot of unrest and feuds in the countryside lately. She attributes it to the High King getting old, and he's not keeping the Twenty Kings in line.

Rune twigs on what that means: If the Twenty Kings are vying for the High King's position, then they're ignoring their Barons and Dukes, who are feuding for power amongst themselves and ignoring the Sires, who fight amongst themselves and don't take care of their populace.

Talaysen notes that the Church SHOULD be getting involved, and aren't. And Gwyna says that bandits are a bigger problem too. So long and short, she's on board. Moreover, she's got an idea for wintering. If they can't find a spot to winter over, all three of them, they can go thirds on a wagon and join one of her "Family caravans".

Rune's happy about that, admitting that with getting shut out of three Faires, they were starting to worry about wintering anyway. This way they've got an alternate plan. And Gwyna mischievously promises that she'll find a lot of reasons to take long walks.

Then they're interrupted by something odd:

A weathered old man, a horse-trader by the harness-bits attached to his jacket, came around the corner of the half-shelter. He led a pair of sturdy pony-mules of the kind that the [Roma] used to pull their wagons and carry their goods, and stopped just as he reached conversational distance. The beasts stopped obediently behind him, and one nuzzled him and blew into his hair.

The man's looking for a minstrel named Rune. He asks Rune's mother's name and village, and then who her best friend was there. Rune answers all three questions, and it's the last that's significant. The dude comes from her old friend Jib!

...now I like Ms. Lackey as a writer a lot. Her writing sometimes lacks the polish of McCaffrey at her best, or the crisp plotting, but she's got a real knack for character voice. Unfortunately, as mentioned before, she LOVES writing in dialect.

"Then ye be the Rune I be lookin' fer." The man doffed his hat, and grinned. "Yon Jib's the lad I took on as m'partner this spring, an' damn if he ain't done better nor any on' us had reason t' think. He sen's ye these liddle lads, by way'o thanks, he says." He proffered the lead-reins, and Rune rose to take them, stunned with surprise. "He says ye's a right 'nuff lass, an' ye know how t' take care of a beast-I mind ye got a gyppo there by ye, though-" he nodded towards Gwyna, who nodded back. "There ain't none born can take care 'f a horse like a gyppo, so's ye make sure'n lissen t' the lady, eh?"

...I normally replace the G-word with Roma when I show these excerpts, but I have no idea what to do with "gyppo", as it seems to be a slur derived from what is already a slur. I'll think about that. Fortunately, it shouldn't come up again.

So translation and explanation: if you recall, after Tonno died, Rune inherited his shop which was sold for a decent amount of money. Rune gave some to Amber, kept some to provision herself on her journey to Kingsford, and sent an amount to her friend Jib, with hopes that he'd make something of himself. Clearly he has. Now he's become a partner with this guy in some kind of livestock breeding trade. And as a thank you, he's sent Rune some mules. He also believes that Roma people have a knack for animals and urges Rune to listen to Gwyna about their care.

...this also makes the timeline even more incomprehensible, because how would Jib have been able to settle in and make a profit enough to send her some animals in that short amount of time. But we'll handwave that. Anything that allows me to inch Rune's age upward makes me happy.

Rune identifies the mules as "Vargians", which the man confirms. He says he wouldn't let them go to anyone but a Roma, or a friend of his, or a friend of Jib's. He's very fond of Jib. He also likes the Free Bards.

Rune asks after Jib, if he's okay and happy.

The man confirms that he is! In fact, Jib is going to marry this man's daughter. Rune might even meet them next Midsummer Faire. Aw.

The dude leaves as quickly as he came, leaving everyone pretty stunned.

"Well, that solves one big problem," Gwyna said, breaking the silence. "And I know where we can get a wagon cheap, if you're willing to stay over a day while we get it refitted. I know I've got a third share's worth of coin. How about you two?"

I have always loved whenever someone breaks a stunned silence with a practical concern. Thank you, Gwyna.

Anyway, Talaysen and Rune have enough money. As it turns out, good draft beasts are usually the most expensive part of wagon life, and well, that's just been dealt with. Gwyna looks over the animals, and gives her judgment:

"A little old for a horse-mule, but middle-aged for ones out of a pony," she said, giving them both a final pat, and turning to help Rune stake them out to graze. "Especially for this breed; just like Rune said, they're Vargians. They'll live thirty useful years and probably die in harness, and they can eat very nearly anything a goat can eat. Hard to tell without pushing them, but their wind seems sound; I know their legs are, and he hasn't been doctoring them to make them look good." The same one that had blown into the old man's hair nuzzled her. "They're gentle enough even for you to handle, Master Wren!" She laughed, as if at some private joke, and Talaysen flushed.

I have no idea what any of that means, (and I think Talaysen's in the same boat), but Gwyna sounds like she knows what she's talking about. She compliments Rune's choice of friends.

We shift into Talaysen's point of view here, as he wonders if there was any way he or Rune could have possibly used magic to get this to happen. Eventually he appeases his conscience: they'd had no interaction with animal-sellers and there was no way they could have accidentally magicked the guy into giving them the mules. When Rune explains everything to Gwyna, Gwyna confirms that this is an appropriate return gift. They're not horses or young mules, and he didn't send any extras. If the old man's right about his success, then he'd still have profit.

And as for how the old man found them, both Gwyna and Talaysen have an explanation: when Rune sent her gift to Jib, she'd sent it via the Roma. So when Jib wanted to find her, he'd probably have asked the Roma who had brought him the money in the first place. And given the way that the Free Bards and Roma communicate, they'd have been able to figure out where she went and what happened.

I...am still not sure that that's feasible with the timeline as presented. I think word of mouth, even with a very communicative group like this would have to take longer than that. But okay, I'll go with it.

So everyone's very happy and the next day, they start figuring out what to do about a wagon. Fortunately, they're at a good place for it:

Many [Roma] settled in Kardown, for it was on the edge of the treeless, rolling plains of the Arden Downs. The soil was thin and rocky; too hard to farm, but it made excellent pasturage, and most of the folk hereabouts depended on the sheep that were grazed out there. Most households had a little flock, and the most prosperous had herds of several hundred. There was always work for someone good with animals, and when [Roma] chose to settle, they often became hired shepherds. Such a life enabled them to assuage their urge to wander in the summer, but gave them a snug little home to retire to when the winter winds roared and the sheep were brought back into the fold.

Because of that, there were often [Roma] wagons for sale here. Gwyna, obviously a [Roma] and fluent in their secret language, was able to make contact with one of the resident families as soon as they reached the marketplace.

So they look at a few wagons: the first two are too small, the third is very rickety, but then they strike gold with a young Roma family that's just settling down. The father is a little reluctant to part with his wagon, but the mother wants to stay put to raise their half-dozen kids. Which...yeah, I can see why a wagon would not be the most comfortable there.

So Talaysen charms the lady while Gwyna works on the man:

He couldn't hear what Gwyna was telling the man, a very handsome [Roma] with long, immaculately kept black locks and a drooping mustache of which he seemed very proud. He didn't make much of an effort to overhear, either. She was giving the young man some advice from a woman's point of view, he thought. The [Roma] believed in the right of a woman to make her own decisions, and she was probably telling him that if he decided to pack up and take to the road again, he might well find himself doing so alone.

I might have just included this part for the man's mustache.

So anyway, the wagon is perfect. We're told it's a two-beast rig, which is good. Apparently with a one-beast rig, it's trickier. They'd have to tether the other beast to the rear, and switch them off, which is apparently a pain. But this is a swanky wagon.

It slept four; two in one bed at the rear, and two in narrow single bunks along the sides that doubled as seating. There was ample storage for twice what they carried; the harness was coiled neatly in the box built beneath the right-hand bunk. There was even a tiny "kitchen" arrangement that could be used in foul weather, and a charcoal stove to keep it warm in the winter.

...I have this thing where I get weirdly interested in things like wagons and other types of hideaways and portable homes. I think at heart I've always wanted to be a caravan. On the other hand, I think wifi would be spotty.

So anyway, it's built light, and the guy had Vargians himself so it's all set up. And while the dude is a bit resigned, he's also mostly content with the sale, which makes Talaysen happy. "[H]e would never have willingly deprived someone of a cherished dream, however impractical it was."

I really do enjoy the contrast of idealistic, whimsical Talaysen and the ruthlessly pragmatic Rune and Gwyna.

So then it's a matter of provisioning. They put their heads together and come up with a pretty substantial list of things they need. Since I ALSO like lists, I'm going to share this bit too:

"Now we drive back to town, leave the wagon at a stable for safe-keeping, and go up to the market to buy what we need. Oil for cooking, oil for the lamps, harness-mending kit, salt and fodder for the mules-" She looked over at Rune.

"Hmm. Flour, salt, honey; some vegetables that keep well. Spices. A couple of pots and a frying pan." Rune's brow wrinkled as she thought. "Featherbeds, if we're going to winter over in there. Charcoal for the stove. A bit of milk. Cider. Oh, a fresh-water keg, there doesn't seem to be one. Currycomb, brush and hoof-pick. I think that's it."

"That sounds about right," Gwyna agreed. "If I can get some eggs, I'd like to."

Talaysen grinned, completely at sea in this barrage of domesticity, and perfectly content-

"A chicken," he said, suddenly. "Bacon. The bacon will keep fairly well. Sausage and cheese." He tried to remember what the family horses had needed. "Oh, blankets for both mules; they'll need them in the winter."

They figure out the money situation. They've got to ditch the chicken and bacon, but they're pretty sure they can get the rest if they bargain well. They have a plan too. Basically, Talaysen watches disapprovingly while the girls take turns. If things get sticky, the other girl jumps in and accuses the seller of cheating.

We get a run down of the adventure: they get the vegetable man to capitulate pretty easily. The cheese-maker is Roma, so they just banter good naturedly. They actually catch the flour-maker cheating, and he gives them the flour for free. They then report him to the cheese maker. They head for their last stop: the charcoal maker when someone tries to pickpocket Talaysen, who catches the would-be thief and drags him to the front of the group.

Rune and Gwyna are pretty matter of fact about it:

"What-?" Rune said in surprise, then nodded. "So. Someone who didn't do well at the Faire, hmm?"

"Caught a light-fingers?" Gwyna asked mildly. She crossed her arms and stared at the boy, who dropped his gaze to his bare, dirty feet. "You should know better than to try that game with a [Roma], sirrah. We invented that game."

I am not entirely sure how I feel about this stereotyping. Especially as it's Gwyna doing it? Hm.

Anyway, we get a description for the thief:

The thief was a lot older than Talaysen had expected; roughly Rune's or Gwyna's age. Undersized, though, for his age; he didn't top Gwyna by more than an inch. The bones under Talaysen's hand were sharp; the bones of the face prominent. Three-quarters starved and filthy, with an expression of sullen resignation, he made no effort whatsoever to escape.

The other notable thing about the thief is that he's completely silent. Even when Talaysen threatens to take him to the constables. He just looks afraid and drops his eyes.

Rune and Gwyna muse aloud that he doesn't really look prosperous enough to be a real thief. Instead he just looks desperate. Talaysen, disapproving middle-ager that he is, thinks the kid looks bad, "blood and bone", but he doesn't say anything, since he thinks Gwyna in particular has already warmed to the kid.

So Rune and Gwyna decide not to turn the kid in, and Gwyna makes him an offer: if they feed him and give him a chance to clean up, will he promise not to run away until they've talked?

He looked up again, and the expression of bewildered gratitude made Talaysen abruptly revise his opinion. That was not the expression of a bad youngster-it was more along the lines of a beaten dog who has just been patted instead of whipped. Maybe there was something worth looking into with this boy after all.

Gwyna promptly shoves all of her packages in the arms of this walking kicked puppy, and commands him to come along. Talaysen is amused to note that the boy is following her with "complete docility." He thinks that if the boy IS about Gwyna's age, then he might not be too eager to run away anyway. "Older men than he had been stunned by Gwyna on a fairly regular basis."

Talaysen also notes the method to Gwyna's silliness. With the packages, the boy can't just run away. At the very least, he'll have to drop them first, and they'll have warning. The boy sticks around, and Gwyna borrows some of Rune's clothes for him. Rune warns that they're a bit ragged, but Gwyna says that it's better than what he's wearing now.

Talaysen notes that the boy looks embarassed. And I'm getting annoyed at calling him "the boy", so I'm going to cheat and use the name we're given next chapter. Jonny.

Gwyna marches the kid off to the bathing pool, with the implied threat that he'd bathe or she'd hold him down and do it himself. However that turns out, Jonny does come back, clean and cooperative. Talaysen admits that some of what had looked like sullenness was nothing more than dirt.

Actually I really like this bit. It's very subtle, which isn't really Lackey's wheelhouse normally. But it's a nice little look at Talaysen's own prejudices. While his backstory is still mostly opaque, we can extrapolate that he had a somewhat unhappy childhood at a higher social level than either of the women. He's generally an open-minded and generous fellow, but he's still got some unconscious biases.

And they're ones that we share, really. Signs of extreme poverty, like dirt, do effect the assumptions we make about people.

Talaysen offers him bread, cheese and water, which the kid eats, slowly and carefully. Then it's time for q and a.

"All right," Talaysen said, as the young man finished the last crumb of his meal. "The ladies here seem to have taken a liking to you. I suspect they want me to invite you to come along with us for a bit. On the other hand, you did try to lift my purse. So what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm s-s-s-sorry, s-s-s-sir," the young man stammered. "I was s-s-s-starving. I d-d-d-didn't kn-kn-know wh-wh-what else t-t-t-t-to d-d-do."

And unfortunately, Ms. Lackey's love for phonetic dialogue also extends to a stutter. Poor kid.

Talaysen realizes that the kid isn't faking the stutter, and it's not out of fear. He is however clearly embarassed, and Talaysen's at a loss of how to get information from the poor kid without forcing him through a similar struggle. But then he notices something interesting: Jonny keeps looking at something in the wagon.

Jonny's looking at Gwyna's harp. It's a large one that she can only play while seated, and she'd been about to pack it for the trip. Talaysen asks if he can play, and the boy nods. Gwyna fetches the harp for him.

So how is he:

Talaysen had heard many Masters play in his time, but this young man was as good on the harp as Rune was on her fiddle. And this was an original composition; it had to be. Talaysen knew most of the harp repertory, and this piece wasn't in it.

So, the boy could compose as well as play. . . .

The young man's face relaxed as he lost himself in the music, and his expression took on the other-worldly quality seen in statues of angels. In repose he was as gently attractive as he had been sullenly unattractive when Talaysen caught him.

Apparently he rocks. Moreover, Talaysen can hear the undercurrent of magic. The kid isn't trying to match it, but it's harmonizing with what he's playing. Talaysen is even finding himself lulled into a meditative trance. Rune clearly hears it too.

The chapter closes out with Talaysen noting that this kid is a Bard in everything but name.

Now who is he, where is he from, and how in heaven's name did he get that way?

This is Jonny, Talaysen. And he's basically the new plot of the book.

There isn't really much to say about this chapter. It's mostly set up, though I enjoy it. But we've got all the pieces in place now: the wagon, the group (Gwyna's going to be sticking around from now on, as is Jonny), and the mystery.