Gleeman's Tales

by Matthew Travagline

  “The others?” Gnochi started asking, but then stopped, seeming to understand how serious Cleo had sounded. “Sorry,” he amended.

  “No, you have absolutely nothing to apologize for. Everything—it’s all my fault, Gnochi. I am the one who should be sorry. The one who should be begging for forgiveness.”

  “Whatever it is, Cleo, you needn’t worry about it. I can’t stay mad at you. I can’t not forgive you.”

  “I’m an echoer.”

  ◆◆◆

  “Why do they get to lounge around while we are doing all the manual labor?” Roy whined aloud as he hefted another sack of grain over his shoulder.

  “Because Cleo is hardly older than a girl. Gnochi is recovering from being shot and poisoned.” Harvey grabbed another sack and lugged it up to the cave entrance. “And if half of what you told me about Cleo is true, then those two need time to talk it out.”

  “I meant them,” Roy said, gesturing to Cig and Kib, who were standing at the spot where one of the Urtin grocers dropped off their allowances.

  “Quit complaining,” Harvey said. “Do you think I want to lug grain all afternoon? I was expecting a calm journey to meet up with you guys, not to be assaulted, subdued, then forced into labor worse than any we received in the menagerie.

  They dropped another load of grain at the cave’s mouth. Roy whispered to Harvey, “Do you think that this is an issue for them? I mean, she cannot even control her echo. It’s not her fault. Plus, the two are nearly inseparable.”

  “You don’t see it, Roy. Their relationship is built upon a trust and support that might have only existed because of Cleo’s coercion—whether she was aware or in control of it, or not. We have to be prepared for any possibility. They might be going their own way when we go to the cave.”

  “But it’s not her fault,” Roy defended.

  “It’s not anyone’s choice to be an echoer, Roy. It’s been that way since the dawn of our age. That’s how it is.”

  “And if they continue to travel together, what do we say? What do we tell Dorothea?”

  “Nothing. We say nothing of this cave or any of its happenings—that you told me—to anyone,” Harvey said. “I wouldn’t even bring it up to either Cleo or Gnochi. It’s likely to be a sore subject.”

  Kib’s grating voice carried up the hill from where he was standing with Cig. “Less prattle and more hauling, boys. You’ve got more to bring up yet.”

  ◆◆◆

  Gnochi sat unmoving as Cleo wept into his chest. He looked down at her hair that was already replacing lost growth. It would soon tickle the nape of her neck. “Is your hat missing?” he asked, hoping that it would take her mind off her sorrows, but it only pushed her into further sobs. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder and leant back on the cave’s rocky wall. Hot tears bled through his light shirt and tickle his skin. “My armor is gone.” He almost failed to notice the lack of pressure on his ribs from its tight strapping.

  Cleo muttered something that was lost in the ripples of clothing. Her body ceased shaking with tears. She picked her head off his chest. He brushed the hair out of her eyes and whispered her name soothingly.

  “Gnochi, I’m so sorry.”

  “For what my dear?”

  Cleo didn’t seem to hear him. “And you must hate me, not that I blame you. Hatred is the least of what I deserve for what I’ve done to you. For what I’ve put you through.”

  “Cleo.”

  “And I’ve never even thanked you for all you’ve done to help, comfort, and protect me. I’ve been taking advantage of you. And it took you to death’s edge twice before I realized it. Now that you know this, you probably hate me even more. Plus, I’ve essentially killed your family.”

  Gnochi felt a spear shoot through his heart.

  “I heard that Silentore was using them as leverage. By traveling with you and coercing that information out, I’ve killed them.”

  Gnochi knew that he should say something, but his mind was still sluggish and for a minute, silence was his only response. “First of all, thank you,” he finally managed to say.

  “But I’ve done nothing but bring hurt to you.”

  “No, it’s time for you to listen. We don’t know for sure if you’ve been using your echo or if it’s even possible for you to control it. Yes, you’ve listed some instances where it looks like you’ve manipulated me. And I will admit that part of the reason I let you come with me was to stop you from pestering me about it,” he said, allowing the memory’s smile to touch upon his chapped lips.

  “Memories are slowly coming back to me, memories that you conveniently seem to have left out of your tirade against yourself,” he said. “You saved my life. I do remember something now: your shouting right before I blacked out. You rushed at him. In my opinion, that would’ve been a time that you used it—and without being aware of it, too.”

  “But I—”

  “No, Cleo. I’m not under your spell. I wasn’t coerced into bringing you with me. I joined the menagerie because I wanted to get sleep at night without having to fear brigands and their ilk. My own selfish reasons. I knew the moment I caught you snooping through my bags that you were different. And despite my efforts to convince you otherwise, you persisted in traveling with me. You still stuck with me despite the harm that has befallen you since.” He swallowed back some bile that had crept up his throat, hoping to humiliate him again. “You’re like a daughter to me and I love you.”

  He let a long breath out, then spoke again. “But I’m using you, Cleo.” She looked up sharply, her eyes still glistening. “I’m using you,” he repeated. “I can’t take advantage of you in this way. No matter how my deal goes with Silentore, I won’t be getting my family back. I’m not in my right mind and you deserve more than to be that which anchors me to reality. I can give you money, set you up in any city’s finest university. You can have a good life. You don’t have to be ensnared by a man bogged down in his own grief.” He closed his eyes.

  He felt soft fingers brushing tears off his face. “I can’t believe you would think that I’m only here for money,” she said, lightly slapping his cheek. “You’ve been a better father to me than all of the men in my life combined. And Gleeman, I’m in it for the long haul with you, like it or not. I’m here to see you through your contract, and I’ll help you rescue your family and exact revenge on Silentore.” She paused, then said, “Plus, I want to fulfill my apprenticeship and help you preserve the first age.”

  “I fear that my family is dead.”

  “Why?” Her voice was loud. “If you believe your family dead, why go through with their contract?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. My memories were hazy for months before we met. One morning, I woke up in a forest south of Imuny with all of my provisions, and Perogie tied to a tree.” He paused, stricken by this confession of his own weakness. “I want the closure that will come with completing the job. Plus, Silentore is not an organization to which I want to be openly antagonistic. And I’d rather not stand out as an enemy to the entire Pantheon.”

  “What about your target?” Cleo asked.

  “Blue Haven. But that’s all you need to know. For your own protection, please don’t inquire any more about it.”

  “If you think that’s best, then I’ll restrain my curiosity.”

  “Speaking of curiosities. Now that I am an open book to you, I’d like to piece you out and take a crack at who Cleo is. Would you fill me in on anything I miss?”

  Cleo sat for a moment in the dark silence. Finally, she said, “Yes.”

  “We first met in Imuny, a harbor city. You were dressed by the way of nobility—all the way down to a necklace of untold value. And you were serving drinks at a shanty-inn. Well, you were attempting to. Now that I know that you’re an echoer, a few pieces are affirmed in my mind. It is clear to me that you were born and raised across the eastern waters, and I get the feeling that you were only recently brought to Lyrinth.

  “For her part, Lyrinth ho
lds little stock in overseas trading thanks to Oceanmane, so the very fact that you were able to travel here makes me believe you come from a powerfully wealthy family from eastern lands. You clearly escaped from the custody of a relative. I might guess that they were the second man who tracked us to Mirr, alongside the sailor from Imuny. I saw the way you looked at him as he slept. There was little blood lost between you two. Now, I imagine that there was a falling out between you and your non-echoer parent (probably your father).”

  Cleo looked astounded that Gnochi had pieced together her life. He guessed that he was not far off the mark.

  “The same things that I used to do and say with my niece, you seem to enjoy.”

  “Pippa? Her name was Pippa?”

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “You were feverish and delusional.”

  “Oh.” Gnochi paused to regain composure. After a moment, without further addressing the topic of his family, he continued. “Well, I bet that your father kept you locked away from the world because of your echo. Although, I only guessed that based on the level of street-smarts you possess. The only thing I don’t know is why you would’ve been hidden for your echo in eastern lands.”

  Cleo sat back, still and silent for a long minute. Finally, she turned to Gnochi and asked, “How? It’s like you’re reading my life’s story.”

  “Have you forgotten that I make my living by watching and observing?” he asked, then laughed and said, “Well watching and observing is nice. But it only matters because I take what I see and tailor as many embellishments as required to receive a sizable gratuity in any story that I spit out. I have to know if my crowd is in the mood for a comedy, or whether a gritty historical tale would be better received. Plus, even though it’s dark in here, I’ve been watching your facial expressions this whole time. You’re a pretty easy read.” A sound escaped his mouth that sounded like a laugh, however hollow it was. Cleo punched him lightly in the arm. “Hey! Bullet wound remember?”

  “Yeah, in your leg!” She punched him again in the arm.

  “And I’m recovering from a bone-flower overdose,” he said, laughing again.

  “You don’t care?”

  “About what, my dear apprentice?”

  “That your life is in danger from my family? They see what you’ve done as kidnapping. My father is a powerful man.”

  “Ha! I’ve heard that one before. No, in all seriousness, if you can stick around when danger is constantly being thrust in your face, then I can certainly do the same. I tend to live by one motto that the great bard of the first age once penned: ‘He that is well hanged in this world needs to fear no colors.’ Although I suppose that now might not be the most appropriate time to quote that particular verse. If I were to tweak the connotation a hair, we would be dealing with one father that is significantly angrier than another.” Seeing Cleo’s confused expression, he said, “You aren’t doing something right as a bard if there isn’t someone who wants to spill your guts.”

  “I know that I can handle the danger because I trust you to have my back,” Cleo said. “Like you did with the on the road outside of Imuny. In Mirr. And Brichton.”

  “And you know I will, but I am aging.”

  “And I’ll hear no more of this aging prattle until you tell me how old you truly are.”

  Gnochi snickered.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It’s impolite to ask your elders their age,” he said before falling over laughing on his back. Cleo punched his arm for the third time.

  “Okay! Who’s ready for some chow,” Roy announced as he entered the cave’s lit portion. He looked into dark section, and seeing Gnochi on the ground with Cleo near him, said: “Did I interrupt you two?”

  Gnochi couldn’t see his face, but he knew from the tone of Roy’s voice that he was smiling.

  “Subtlety is not your strong suit, eh, Roy?” Harvey said, entering the cave a moment later. “What happened to, not bringing it up with them?”

  Roy shrugged, then said, “Come on. Kib caught a few hares and they are going to be roasting over a fire any minute.”

  “Okay, let’s go, Cleo,” Gnochi said, making note to abandon the alias. She looked to him and he nodded. Harvey offered his arm to Gnochi to help him up. Once on his feet, Gnochi wobbled but was caught between the two teens.

  “I’ll get the crutch,” Cleo said, running off.

  When it was clear that she was out of the cave, Harvey looked to Gnochi, then in a serious tone, asked, “Are you two okay?”

  “Yes,” Gnochi definitively answered.

  “And that’s not the coercion talking?” Roy asked, which seemed to force another head-shake from Harvey.

  “No, Cleo and I are square.”

  “Good,” Harvey said.

  She returned a minute later with the crutch and passed it to Gnochi, who gingerly tested it out, hobbling a few steps.

  “Okay, I’m moving at a snail’s pace,” Gnochi said. “But I am moving. Let’s eat!”

  Chapter 38

  As Gnochi hobbled out of the cave, leaning lightly on the crutch, Cleo saw fear quickly paint his face. “Perogie? The—our packs?”

  “Perogie is still with the menagerie,” Harvey explained. “We all originally left our horses as an assurance to Dorothea that we would all return. I had to borrow Fester because there was no way we could bring Typhus up the mountain.” He patted the neck of the black warhorse.

  For his part, Fester was living up to his reputation of angst amongst humans. With his nostrils flared out, the old warhorse kept his eyes trained on Kib.

  “Roy and Cleo bought the mule to carry you up the mountain,” he further noted.

  “I was thinking that we could use this opportunity to leave the menagerie permanently,” Gnochi said. “Looks as though I’ll have to deal with Dorothea one more time.” Everyone looked at Gnochi, searching for explanation but he said no more.

  “Don’t worry,” Roy said. “Cleo made sure that everything was packed, so all you need to do is saddle up Perogie, grab your bags, and you can leave.”

  “Okay, no more talking business until you get food before you,” Cig said. “And I believe we have yet to be formally introduced.”

  “Ah, of course. Gnochi Gleeman, master bard. At your service,” Gnochi said, attempting and butchering a bow before Cig. He must have realized how poor his bow looked, for he stopped half way and righted himself, offering a hand instead.

  “Cig. I’m the healer,” she said, taking his hand with clear care. “That is Kib, but he’s not big on talking or shaking hands,” she said, chuckling.

  “I must thank you, firstly, for healing me. We also need to discuss my payment,” Gnochi said.

  “Oh stop! I’ll have none of this until you are full from a warm meal,” she countered.

  “It would do me nice to get the taste of bone-flower out of my mouth,” he complained.

  “By the way, Cleo,” Harvey asked, grabbing a cooked piece of rabbit, and gnawing on it, “How much bone-flower did you give him?”

  “Two leaves,” she said

  “Good God!” Gnochi exclaimed, making a face as though he had swallowed the entire rabbit’s haunch on his plate.

  “The very fact that you stand here alive is a testament to powers beyond our control, Master Gleeman,” Cig said.

  “Providence over Blue, that’s more than I’d give Typhus.”

  “I did what I thought was right,” Cleo said, feeling her cheeks warming. “I also didn’t know where you were,” she said, pointing to Harvey. “I wasn’t about to sit around and wait.”

  “Hey, where were you, Harv? I heard you come into the cabin in the middle of the night, but where were you in the meantime?”

  “Honestly? I think I had fallen asleep on top of our wagon,” he said. Roy was the first to start laughing, but before long, the entire group had shared a moment of mirth. Harvey finally cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Cleo, how did you administer the bone-flower?”<
br />
  “I crushed them to powder and stirred them into hot tea-water,” she explained, picking at a plate of mashed grain that congealed before her eyes.

  “That might be the only reason that you are still alive,” Harvey said to Gnochi. “Between the grits remaining in the bottom of the cup and pot, and the dilution of the toxin in the water, your body was able to fight it off. It must’ve been so taxing, as we saw, that it brought about a comatose state.”

  The distant rumbling of a thundercloud drew all eyes to the darkening skies. The group rushed to finish their meal and retreat inside as the rains commenced their symphonic dance with the mountain.

  “No moving tonight, then,” Harvey ruled.

  “Who said anything about moving tonight?” Cleo asked. “We’ve hardly been here a day. Gnochi needs more time to recover and rest before we throw him onto the road again.”

  “We should be getting back to the menagerie soon,” Harvey said. “They’re likely to be on Blue Haven borders if they aren’t there already.”

  “Wait, we are already this close to Blue Haven borders?” Gnochi’s voice sounded flat, but Cleo heard a tinge of fear along the edge of his words.

  “We made good time after Brichton. General pushed us farther and faster each day he was with us. Where we sit now, we are within a day’s walk of the outermost Blue Haven farms.”

  “This is not good,” Gnochi said, turning to Cleo. “We need to leave at the earliest possible opportunity.”

  “But you’re still recovering,” she argued.

  “I’m only now relying on the crutch for its aesthetic value. My leg is almost fully healed.” He sat propped up on a wall as close to the cave’s entrance as he dared. “I’d hoped to teach you more before this point, and to give you more material to write. So much time has been lost.” He gnawed on a fingernail.

  “Well, General forbade you from telling stories after the play and—”

  “Wait,” Gnochi interjected. “‘God is a Dinosaur’ happened? Ah! Curse this memory of mine,” Gnochi said, knocking his head with his fists.