The Lark and the Wren - Chapters Twenty-Four and Twenty-Five

[kalinara]

So last time, we went to Birnam and got the lay of the land. We've also got our first look at our villain, a man who might not be all bad. But he is inclined to send assassins after an innocent kid. So that's a bit of problem.

But we're heading into the Penultimate and Final Chapters here, so hopefully someone has an idea of what to do about it.



So we rejoin our heroes in Kingstone, which appears to be the capitol of Birnam. They've decided that the wagon is the safest place to stay, and they've found a travelers' inn that has allowed them to pull it behind the stable for a fee. Apparently, this isn't terribly unusual. Other travelers are also staying in their conveyances. With a little extra money, they can buy food and water for the mules, and the use of the bathhouse. It sounds pretty nice.

Now though, it's time for Kestrel to make his decision. He's the one being hunted, after all. And he's the one who's the rightful heir of the throne. He's gotten a lot of information over the past few days/weeks. What will he do with that?

Not become king! That's for damn sure. Kestrel doesn't want the throne. He's a good musician, he'd make a horrible king.

I don't know about horrible. Kestrel's open-minded, adaptable, and willing to both listen to wiser heads and make his own mind. I think a kingdom could do worse. But he doesn't want it, and that's very fair.

The others are very relieved. But, as Talaysen points out, they still have the problem of keeping Kestrel alive. And Rune adds that they can't very well do what they've been doing forever. Eventually, the King will find another kind of seeking charm. It's only a matter of time before they find him again. Or some of the other lunatics who want to use him for their cause.

And well, even if Kestrel's unwilling, there's always a chance that a mage can force him into it. This bit's a bit repetitive really. We've gone over this in the last few chapters already. The only notable thing here is that Talaysen does think they'll eventually be able to protect him from harm, especially Rune, since he's never heard of anyone facing down elves as she did. But they're not strong enough yet.

Kestrel realizes that he has to talk to his uncle. He wasn't always like this. He also starts to declare his love for Gwyna, who returns the feeling. Aw.

So now they need a plan. And Kestrel's kind of got one. He wants Talaysen to put him into a trance like Peregrine had, and he should be able to draw a map of the palace for them. Then he'll go to talk to his uncle alone, in the bedroom. He thinks if he can talk to the man alone, he can get him to believe him.

There are a few moving parts to the plan though. Rune points out problem one: getting into the palace. But experience wins out here. Talaysen's apparently snuck into quite a few buildings in his day. He thinks they should be able to go in as servants, because no one pays attention to them.

Gwyna points out problem two: what if the uncle doesn't believe him. Rune's got the answer for that: Magic. They won't be able to manipulate him for long, but they can keep him convinced long enough to flee to somewhere safer. And Talaysen thinks they can fake Kestrel's death if needed. he faked his own after all.

Rune points out that the fake death might not hold. Talaysen's didn't. But then Kestrel's not a world famous musician who wouldn't stop playing. If Talaysen had chosen another job, they'd never have found him. No one should connect Prince Sionel with a random Free Bard.

Rune is satisfied by this and they return to discussions about how to get inside. Talaysen's been working on a plan. Between dressing like a servant, and using his and Rune's talents to fog people's thoughts, they ought to be able to get inside. We get an ellipsis to change scene before we hear the details.

Post ellipsis, Rune is scrubbing pots and humming. She's concentrating on not being noticed. She doesn't want to do anything fancier, because that would leave her with no energy to work with Rolend. She and the others had used music to lure some servants out and put them to sleep to steal their clothing.

Rune does wish that her counterpart had a different job though. She'd had to do a lot of pot scrubbing at the inn and isn't enjoying the trip down memory lane. We get another hint of how good a king Rolend is, because they've hidden the victims in the root cellar. Apparently the servants are quite well fed and therefore aren't likely to be raiding the root cellar out of necessity.

Interestingly, we're told, the pot scrubbers eat first. Even before the courtiers and high servants. I guess so that they can get started on the dishes early. Gwyna's stationed nearby, washing mugs and utensils, while the fellows are carrying garbage out and waiting with brooms in hand to sweep. Or, well, waiting for their cue.

The chief cook and all her helpers swept out of the room, chattering and complaining, which left no one to oversee the kitchen itself. The drudges on dishwashing duty were normally half-wits at best, like Maeve; dull creatures that would do anything they'd been set at until the last dish was washed, or until they were stopped and set on something new. They wouldn't notice when Gwyna and Rune left.

Talaysen and Sional hung back from the rest of the sweepers; like the drudges, the sweepers weren't the brightest of folk. Probably no one would notice that they were missing until noses were counted-and then it would be assumed that the missing men were either off drinking filched wine, or tupping the missing drudges. When servants were missing, their superiors generally assumed "improper conduct" rather than anything sinister, and the lowlier the servant, the more likely that was. That was why Talaysen had chosen the ones he had; the ones thought to be shiftless, ne'er-do-wells. When he and Rune had made their earlier foray into the kitchens, there'd been trouble with those two men over laziness and slacking. For the kitchen steward, it would simply seem a repetition of the same, with the tall simpleton drawn into the group to make up a foursome.

I'm not sure what to think of the idea that the only people in the kitchens are mentally disabled or otherwise not that bright. It strikes me as both ableist and classist. Then again, Rune was dismissive toward Jib too, and it seems pretty clear that she was wrong about him. I don't think the narrative will go out of its way to prove her wrong here though.

And indeed, when Rune and Gwyna abandon their duties and join the menfolk, no one even looks up. I'd like to think it's just because they don't want to deal with this nonsense, whatever it is.

As they head up, Rune spares a moment to be grateful that the King's concern for his servants extends to ensuring they bathe and keep clean. I'd think that's just common sense, personally. Filty kitchen servants mean contaminated food, self-sabotaging cleaning, and the smell would make everything unpleasant. But I do like, after a lot of McCaffrey, having a villain/adversary who is allowed to be competent and even concerned with other people.

So they pretend to be servants heading up to bed. Talaysen, then Kestrel, then Rune and Gwyna, who are giggling together like best friends. I kind of like this bit too. I think it's easy to forget that servants are people too and that they would have friends and loved ones. The guard doesn't give them a second thought, except to flirt rather aggressively with Gwyna:

The guard on the landing of the second floor-the floor with the royal suite on it-nodded to each of the men, and winked slyly at the women. Rune giggled and hid her face behind her hand as if she was shy. Robin gave him a saucy wink right back, and wrinkled her nose at him.

He gave her a pinch as she went by; she squealed and slapped playfully at his hand-but once again, the King's care for choosing his servants came to the fore. He made no effort to follow them, and no effort to back up his flirtation except a verbal one.

"Saucy wench like you needs a man t' keep her warm o'nights," the guard said, with a grin, but without leaving his post. "Tell ye what, ye be tired of an empty bed, or cold around about midnight, ye come lookin' for Lerson, eh? By then I be off."

"I might," Gwyna replied smartly, not betraying by so much as a blink that the guard had just told them something they hadn't known-when the change of guard was. "Then again, I might not!"

"Ah," Lerson growled playfully, faking a swat at her with his halberd. "Get along with ye!"

Ugh, Ms. Lackey and her dialects. Just be glad I didn't transcribe any of poor Kestrel's dialogue.

I'm not a huge fan of this guard's handsy approach, but he does seem to be okay with accepting a no for an answer. Or at least the possibility of a no.

So anyway, once they get past the guard, they open and close the door to the next landing to indicate that they went in. Of course, they did not. They proceed to the very top of the stairs and the storage rooms. Apparently Talaysen had scouted it out earlier, and had oiled the hinges of the door, so they could get through without a sound.

I feel like I might enjoy a prequel of Talaysen's nefarious adventures. It clearly wasn't all concerts and accolades.

So anyway, they're in the attic for a reason: there's a hidden spiral staircase that goes into the Royal Suites. It's guarded, but only one guy, and goes into a linen closet. Apparently, it's so bedding and furniture could be lowered down via a block and tackle. I...guess that seems plausible?

They make it down, and to Ms. Lackey's credit, she actually makes descending a staircase seem almost tense. Fortunately, the King never really expected a threat from this direction, so the guard doesn't have to check in or anything until shift change. Talaysen is thus able to use this to send the dude to sleep. I appreciate that we're told it's not easy. Talaysen has to overcome the will of someone trained and disciplined, who knows his duty is to stay awake. He does succeed though.

He and Kestrel get the guy into the closet, while the women send him even further to sleep. They disarm him and bind and gag him. Talaysen takes the sword, because he kind of-sort of knows how to use one. More than Kestrel does, at least, who hasn't held one since early childhood. (He gets the knife though. Honestly, I think they should give the knife to Rune or Gwyna, who are both more vicious than Kestrel is.)

Anyway, they go to the King's private study (it apparently had been a storage closet before Rolend took over) and wait. Eventually, he arrives, and Kestrel pounces. Thankfully, surprise, youth and reflexes overcome his uncle's training. And there's Talaysen with a sword as well.

"I wouldn't shout if I were you," Talaysen whispered quietly. "Between us, Sional and I can take out your throat before you could utter a single sound."

I can't ever resist a good introductory threat. So anyway, the King recognizes his nephew's name and pretty assumes they're going to kill him. Talaysen digs in the figurative knife a little:

"So, King Rolend, what have you got to say for yourself?" he continued, cruelly-knowing that he was being cruel, but with the memory of Kestrel's own frightened face in the back of his mind. "And what do you have to say to your nephew?"

Rolend's a brave guy, he asks who they're working for. When Talaysen presses him for an explanation, he gives it: He did what he had to do for the country.

The country or himself? The king's about to shout, but Gwyna gets him silenced. I'm not sure how she knew to do it right then, but I'm not about to rob her of her achievement by complaining. Rune gets in on the threatening, saying he can whisper, but it won't do him any good to call for help.

So Kestrel gets his sit down with his uncle, and lays it out:

"L-listen to me, Uncle," Sional said. "I'm n-not a r-ruler. D-d-do you th-think for a m-minute that p-people w-would r-r-respect a m-man wh-who s-sounds l-like I d-d-do?" He laughed, a sound with no humor in it. "N-not even a Ch-church m-mage c-could m-make p-people b-believe I'm anyth-thing other th-than a s-s-simpleton!"

"Well-" Rolend looked uncertain.

"I've b-b-been a b-beggar, a th-thief, a sh-shit-s-s-sweeper. Th-think those are g-g-good qu-qualific-c-cations f-f-for a K-King?"

Seriously, Ms. Lackey? This is downright mean. We get it, he has a stutter. You can just say that and write the poor guy's dialogue as normal. We GET how stutters work. It's very hard to keep drama when you spell it out like this.

So Rune and Talaysen join in the humming since Kestrel's got this in hand. He explains to the King that he's seen what Rolend's done, and that the people are happy. Kestrel wants them to go and stand on his dad's stupid balcony in the morning so he can renounce the throne officially, and publicly, with the stutter in full view so no one gets romantic ideals. And here we get a rather funny error:

The King was capitulating; Talaysen felt it. So did Sional. "L-let me g-g-go g-get V-V-Victor," he urged. "We c-c-can all t-t-talk about it. Even Aunt Fe-Fe-Fe-"

"No-please," Rolend said, closing his eyes and putting his hand to his head. "Not your Aunt Felice. She'll raise half the palace, and then she'll take you off and have you married to one of her ladies-in-waiting before the sun rose. Go get Victor; he's in the Rose Room." He looked each of the Bards in the eyes, in turn. "You're right. We should talk. Perhaps-"

If you recall the scene with Victor and Rolend earlier, Victor talked about how Master Darian loved "Aunt Felice". Meaning Kestrel's mother. I mean, it's always possible that both Rolend and Charlis married women named Felice (my grandfather and great-uncle both married women named Doris, after all), but I suspect it's a continuity error.

Anyway, Talaysen sees hope dawn in the King's eyes, mixed with relief at seeing an end to a burden. Yay! You can stop trying to murder a kid!

We move ahead to the next day. Talaysen, Rune and Gwyna are standing with servants from the King's retinue, watching Kestrel formally abdicate. He's doing well, though we're told that the abdication is taking three times as long because of the stutter. They've produced enough witnesses who can recognize and swear that Kestrel is the lost prince, and one of Rolend's mages does some magic with the hair to confirm it. Kestrel, meanwhile, is still in the rough working-man clothes and is crushing any notion of being a romantic hero.

Actually, Talaysen thinks that before he's through, a lot of the people will be convinced Kestrel's a half-wit. Ouch, dude. Talaysen's uneasy about all this though: How long will Rolend continue to believe Kestrel's not a danger. He's still thinking about faking the kid's death, noting that it's not actually easy to do, despite his assurances.

But...apparently, Kestrel has his own idea. When the ceremony ends, he holds up a hand:

"I kn-know that th-there are s-still p-people who w-won't believe m-my sw-sworn w-word," he said clearly, now looking down on the folk below, suddenly transformed from the bumpkin to something else entirely, despite the stutter. "S-s-so I'm g-going to m-make c-certain that n-no one c-can ever use m-me or m-mine ag-gainst my uncle."

He runs over to Gwyna and draws her up the stairs so people could see her. Unlike Kestrel, Gwyna did change into her Roma finery. So more than a few people are offended, because they're racist assholes. But that's one way to rule himself out for the throne:

"G-Gwyna Kravelen, Free B-Bard, will you m-marry me?" he asked, his voice carrying clearly to the edge of the square.

Hey, cool! Gwyna actually has a surname!

I'm not sure this is really the most romantic circumstance for a proposal: hey, I'm going to make sure I can't ever inherit my kingdom by proposing to you, but Gwyna appreciates it in the spirit intended and accepts. We're told that Victor in particular is thrilled: his cousin's back, doesn't hate them, and now there's a happy celebration! WHOOHOO.

Now since the last chapter's basically just an epilogue, I'll add it here.

We start this chapter with Gwyna and Kestrel's wedding. Rune is asking Talaysen who he thinks the happiest man in Birnam is right now.

Talaysen guesses Kestrel. Rune says almost. He'll be happier when they get out of here, but weddings are more for women and the celebration is wearing thin. She thinks the happiest person is the Queen, who not only got to plan a whole wedding, but got to play mom to both bride and groom.

Talaysen guesses and rules out the King. Rolend hadn't quite realized when offering to host the wedding that it would become a MASSIVE Roma celebration. There are going to be bills for pilfered goods and livestock, and a fair bit of anxiety. Rune's okay with that. Rolend did put Kestrel through a lot after all, and he could suck it up.

Talaysen rules himself out, which gets a raised eyebrow from Rune. Apparently, Rolend happily agreed to allow the Free Bards the same exact privileges as Guild Bards in Birnam. But in exchange, Talaysen had to accept the role of Laurel Bard to the throne. This is a clever move by Rolend, actually, since it means that the Free Bards and Roma aren't going to be working with his enemies. Instead, he basically gets access to a useful information network that the Church and Guild and disgruntled Sires can't touch.

Talaysen is consoling himself with the idea of scandalizing the kingdom a bit more and building a Free Bard school in the manor. As a kid, I remember being a bit disappointed that this means Rune is going to be settling here with him. I looked at it like Rune giving up her freedom. But I have to admit, this time around, I feel a lot better about this. The book emphasized a number of times that Rune really wasn't all that interested in the wandering life. She wanted to be a Guild Bard because she liked the idea of stability and security. She's happy as a traveling Free Bard of course because she gets to play music and be part of the community that she'd always wanted, but it was a bit of a trade off.

Now she gets the stability and security. And a place to raise children. I do think it's unfair that she didn't get a title too though.

So anyway, Rune finally reveals the happiest man in the kingdom: Victor.

"First-he got his cousin back. Second-his mother got to have a wedding, and he didn't have to get married. She'll probably leave him alone for a few more months. Third-the King isn't a child-killing ogre anymore, and I don't think he's in any danger of making that grave a moral decision again-and last, but by no means least-Prince Victor has been very popular with our [Roma] friends." She laughed at the look on his face. "He's their favorite gejo at the moment. He has gotten quite an education, I promise you! Frankly, I'm surprised he can walk of a morning!"

...REALLY. What HAS that boy been up to?

Anyway, they're cut off by the arrival of the King's wedding gift to the couple: a new, beautifully painted wagon, with two glossy black mares. Oh wow, that's real subtle, Rolend. Anyway, Gwyna and Kestrel, both dressed in Roma finery, hop in, and there's a lovely procession. (Raven and Nightingale are there too to see them off. Aww.)

Victor also comes to see them off, and yep, he's definitely been changed by his experience:

Dressed-not quite in wild [Roma] regalia, but certainly in the brightest gear his closet had to offer. He spurred his horse towards the wedding cortege with another wild cry, circled the group three times, and cried, "Come on! The road won't wait forever!"

And well, there's one more thing of note:

"Poor Birnam," he sighed. "Poor, stiff-necked Birnam. We've unmade their King, turned their Princes into [Roma], their lands into a haven for ne'er-do-well vagabonds, elves, and Free Bards, and stolen the power from their Bardic Guild. What's left?"

"Oh," she said, thinking of a little secret she had just shared with Gwyna. He'll find out about it in a month or two. I think he'll like being a father. "I'll think of something. Trust me."

And as they wave to the vanishing Roma, the chapter, and book, ends. As does this review!