by Ulysses Troy
“So, you slew ten bandits?” Conrad smiled. “Do they know that too?”
“Okay, okay. I may have exaggerated a bit while talking about my deeds . . .” Gavise said.
“That’s surprising!”
“ . . . but at least I was able to hold my own against a fearsome bandit, a fierce man of the Dark Rider!”
“Was he injured?”
“Perhaps.” Gavise continued. “Anyway, Conrad, even though you may be a bit strict about telling the truth, at the end of the day this attitude of yours won’t threaten my reputation as the hero of this incident at all, as when we’ll tell two different tales to the sweet ears of women, they will be likely to believe the handsome one.”
“And I thought people could change, yet you have been the same jackass for eight damned years.”
“Trust me, Conrad. If you were me, you would not want to change either.” Gavise said to his friend, while wielding his famous annoying smile. “I heard you declined a fortune, again.”
“Yes, you may say that. Even though I would doubt if it was that much.”
Gavise shook his head. “You know Conrad, there was a time when I was constantly counting every time you just declined a profitable proposal full of sweet coins from rich nobles, in the name of honorable motives. But, after it happened so many damned times, I just stopped counting.”
“Fenhir has always said you were bad at math.”
“Hey, he also said the same thing for you. And don’t change the topic! I still can’t understand . . .”
“Let’s just say I’m more interested in these motives than in the coins.” This time Conrad was the one to smile at his friend.
“But the world does not work that way, my friend! You know, I still need a top tier lute after you broke my dear ‘Tricia!”‘ Oh yes, that Tricia again.
“I have already promised to buy you another one once I have the coins, even though it was an accident.”
“Accident?” Gavise said ironically. “How the hell was it supposed to be an accident when you broke it at the head of an Utornian Knight! Armored with a fucking helmet! Like there was nothing else to use around!” Gavise was reproachful. “And this heroic attitude of yours is not helping at all. With these coins you had rejected for ‘the motives’, we could have easily bought a lute for me even better than Tricia. Ah, do you have any idea how stupid it makes me look? A bard without his lute is like . . .”
“ . . . a lady without seductive eyes? I don’t know how many times you have said this.”
“What? I was going to say something else if you hadn’t interrupted.”
“Yes, no doubt about that. Not even the slightest.”
For a moment, Gavise became more serious, surprisingly. “You still didn’t say why you denied Chanel’s request?” He asked his friend, patting his mare.
“She is a dangerous woman, Gavise. She would play with us like a damn fiddle if we had accepted to enter her service.”
“I agree with you in that, just not completely.” Gavise shared his opinion. “Dangerous would be an exaggerated term to use, Conrad. With your old friend Gavise, the Lady Whisperer, at your side, even Chanel is a slice of cake! To be honest, under my guidance, no women constitute any kind of danger at all. And there is nothing wrong with needing or seeking help from someone who is clearly better than you. We both know your skills at reading the opposite gender is rather poor. But I think all you need is a good counselor.”
“If this ‘good counselor’ is you, I would rather remain poor.”
Gavise opened both of his arms and looked at Conrad. “You can’t find a single person who is better than me in analyzing a woman’s true nature in all the land, Conrad. I’m a fucking professional! And I’m having a pretty hard time trying to understand how you can still speak in that way after seeing my natural skills on the field firsthand so many times!”
“Like the time you tried to seduce a woman who turned out to be not a woman at all?”
Gavise lifted one of his eyebrows and looked into the horizon. “Wine, my friend, too much of it may cause bad things.”
“After seeing its destructive effects on you, I may even consider stopping drinking forever.”
The two stopped to speak for a moment and preferred to watch the environment that was surrounding them all over. This day, the weather was gorgeous as the sun was softly smiling to the folk of the plains from above without warming their bodies too much, thanks to the efforts of the cool wind that have accompanied it.
While the two were standing on their horses, watching the beautiful view that the plains offered to them, Gavise asked his old friend Conrad one more question. “Are you still sure about that?”
“Yes.” Conrad looked at the horizon for the last time before venturing forth. “To the north, after the Dark Rider.”
“The road will be very long and probably extremely tedious,” Gavise said. “Maybe I could perform for you one of my pieces to relax a bit, the one I wrote when I was a heroic and devoted double spy at the mysterious castle of Unac’h Dorn?”
“I would rather not listen to it if I had a choice at all” Because most of the time, I don’t have that privilege.
“Don’t worry Conrad, it is nothing like ‘The Lover’s Pox’ or ‘Cheater’s Blade’, so you don’t have to cover your ears this time. Even those ignorant bandits back at Unac’h Dorn seemed to like it, except for that one dork Cout. He was one bloody fool and sucked at dice anyway.” Gavise said with a serious manner. “This piece, my friend, even though it is not one of my best, is about the impressive and noble deeds of Veron de Charn, Bralon’s greatest, finest, highest and most excellent bard and the greatest hero who has ever lived! As you know in the very first place, I don’t have a lute to perform my song fully after that bard took the one I borrowed from him forcefully with his ruthless punches, leaving me with only my natural voice as an instrument for music. So, I have to perform it with only and only my natural voice, which means you won’t feel the difference, anyway. Beware, Conrad, people often pay for this, at least if they are not a seductive lady.” He took a deep breath and opened his arms. “Here we go!”
The ladies of beauty, hide your hearts
He will steal them from you through his arts
Steal them from you through his arts!
Because he is Veron de Charn, the great bard!
And hear me out world, he hasn’t played his card!
Hailing from the west, his tongue is the best!
Don’t get too close to him lady, he may take your breath away!
With his unmatched gaze and voice, which are truly blessed
The ones that have always been greatly envied by the rest!
He fought a thousand knights, slew dozens alike
Gathered their damned heads on a pike, a pike
For he is the restless defender of the defenseless
With his sword, he will chop tyrants on their asses
He will chop tyrants on their asses, yeah!
Fathers all across the land, hide your daughters!
If you don’t like the attitude of the robbers
For his name is Veron de Charn, the great bard!
The one with courage, dignity, and might!
For his chapter is not an ending, but rather a beginning
His story is one of that kind: never-ending
And it’s a great story worth mentioning
Yes, a great story worth mentioning!
Because he is Veron de Charn, the great bard!
The one who saved the world during his breakfast once!
When he finally finished singing his song, he looked at Conrad to get praise for his impressive accomplishment, still panting for air. “So . . . how was it?”
“I would rather remain silent about that.” Actually, it was really good. One of the best pieces of Gavise, perhaps. But Conrad just knew Gavise’s vaunting his work would never end well. So, he had to look unimpressed, as usual.
“I am starting to worr
y that you did not like her, Conrad, you even did not attempt to ask her name! But don’t worry at all my friend, I will spare you that worry. I named her: Veron de Charn, The Great Bard!”
“Well, Gavise, it is very original of you.”
“Original? Of course not!” Gavise shouted with excitement. “I just thought a great song like this should be named after its great owner, to honor his existence!”
“Gavise, Charn does not exist. You made up him, remember?”
“That’s actually true, but not completely.” He explained. “Charn, my friend, is more of an idea than a form of flesh and blood. He is the perfect image of the ideal man: heroic, gallant, altruistic, yet also wise, subtle, and full of virtue. And I am the closest thing to him that this world can hope to get.”
“That part is clear.” Conrad rode his horse to the road of the north and hoped Gavise did not have any other new songs to perform, at least not one about himself, or including him in any possible way. But apart from the ones he wrote about women and the adventures they had been through, most of the bard’s pieces would be about his ‘great and unmatched’ deeds and attributes, so odds were low for that occurrence. Yet, Conrad did not abandon hope.
-THE END-