Fae Song EPUB

by Williams , Deonne

FAE SONG

  front, Shae’s hand squarely in the middle of her chest.

  “Stay there and do not move,” he ordered. Before she could protest, Shae took a quick dive into the passing crowd.

  He snatched a young man by the back of his doublet and hauled him over to the two still picking up packages, throwing the man to the ground in front of them and pinning him at the throat with his foot. “First lesson of the day. Do not practice smash and grab within eyesight of a Southron as we have no patience for thieves.” He then grabbed the girl’s arm saying, “Nice distraction, but your partner is dismally slow.”

  “Now see here—” the older man began, but Shae interrupted him.

  “Why don’t you see where your pouch has gone?” A glance at the girl, who was white-faced and shaking, convinced him she wasn’t going anywhere. That and the growing number of curious onlookers surrounding them effectively blocked her escape. Shae relinquished his hold on her and knelt on the prone man’s chest, ignoring his gasps for air as he jerked the cutpurse’s doublet open, popping most of the buttons free when he did so. There were several weighty pouches inside of it. “I believe yours is the red one.”

  He tossed it to the older man, who caught it before calling for the city watch. “A little late, don’t you think?” Shae dropped the rest of the pouches on the ground and hauled the man to his feet just when three members of the watch arrived. “Here is the thief your good citizen is shouting about.” Two of the guards grabbed the cutpurse’s arms and Shae reached for the girl. “This one is his accomplice.” Her legs gave beneath her, but his steely grip on her upper arm kept her on her feet.

  The third member of the watch went to take hold of her, but the commanding voice of a bard stopped him.

  “Leave the girl alone.” Everyone’s eyes, including Shae’s, 115

  FAE SONG

  turned on Gwynn in shock.

  “We have a Southron’s word that she was his accomplice.”

  Gwynn stepped in between the watchman and Shae, gently lifting the girl’s tear-streaked face in her hand. She stared into her eyes for a few long moments, learning her life song, searching her heart and the burdens laid upon it before releasing her. Gwynn turned a silvery gaze on the guard.

  “Yes, Marni is Evrit Nostin’s accomplice, but only because she is terrified of him. There is no dark intent or desire in her, only fear of him and what punishment she would receive if she did not do as he instructed. The child has plenty of reason to believe him.” Gwynn took Marni by the hand and turned her away from the guard, sliding the girl’s chemise from her shoulders, which bared half-healed welts and livid purple bruises. “I would believe him too had he done that to me. The rest of her is marked as well, but he was careful to avoid her face, since that brought him profit,” Gwynn spat.

  She put her arm around Marni and the bare whisper of a tune wafted through the circle of onlookers. A moment later, when she lifted Marni’s chemise back up onto her shoulders, Shae saw that the welts and bruises were rapidly fading away.

  Gwynn stalked over to the cutpurse, who was glaring at her with hate-filled eyes, and her voice was bursting with revulsion. “Evrit Nostin, the darkness inside your soul would fill a prison on its own. Whatever your punishment is for your acts, I am not sure it will be harsh enough to make amends for the many black deeds you have done. Mayhap, I should create a more proper sentence for you, as is my recognized right in this city. Would you know the justice given by a bard of Inishmore?”

  Taking his two guards unaware, Nostin lunged toward Gwynn with a vicious howl. His sudden lurch broke their hold and allowed him time to draw a slender blade hidden in 116

  FAE SONG

  his sleeve. She had no time to realize he was moving before he was almost upon her.

  Shae’s lightning reflexes had no such limitations. In a single fluid motion, he threw himself in front of Gwynn, his sword shrieking from its scabbard. The length of steel flashed fitfully in the gray light, descending with deadly accuracy and striking off the hand bearing the knife. Nostin fell to his knees with a choked gurgle, clutching at what remained of his lower arm. Shae’s blade returned to its sheath before anyone else moved, and his fingers buried themselves in the man’s hair, jerking Nostin’s head back while snatching the dagger from his belt and ramming the edge against his throat.

  “Second lesson of the day,” Shae snarled over the gasps from those looking on, “never assault the charge of a Southron. I could have taken your life had I wanted it but leaving you as a one-handed failed thief will be more just.

  That is, if a bard agrees with a Southron’s definition of justice.” Shae’s gaze met Gwynn’s, the blue flame of battle rage in his eyes dying when she nodded but could not speak.

  Throwing the man to the ground, Shae reached for her, wrapping an arm around her trembling shoulders and drawing her close. “Next time, you must stay where I put you.” “I will,” she whispered, burying her head against his chest, so she could not see Nostin’s guards lashing his belt around his lower arm to stop the bleeding.

  “Let’s clear off,” the third watchman said to the crowd around them. “Everything is taken care of now.” He cleared his throat. “Southron, what does your charge want done with the girl?”

  Gwynn took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart when she raised her head, but she found herself unable to move from under the protection of Shae’s arm. “Marni 117

  FAE SONG

  ran away about two months ago, because she thought life on a farm was boring. Now she wants nothing more than to go back home.”

  Several pairs of astonished eyes turned once more on Gwynn, but it was Marni who spoke. “How did you know, lady bard?”

  “I saw it when I tested your heart; that is also when I learned your name and that of your tormentor’s.” The girl gasped, but Gwynn ignored it while she forced herself to step away from Shae and retrieve the scattered pouches from the ground. She handed one to Marni. “Here, buy a good meal and a warm room for the night, then tomorrow morning, after the rain breaks, go home.”

  “Thank you, lady bard,” she said accepting the pouch.

  “I promise; I will do as you say.” The girl faded into the crowd without a backward glance.

  The older man who had been the pair’s victim started to protest. “How do you know she will do that? She is probably going off to find her next partner as we speak!”

  “You doubt the justice of a bard and a Southron?”

  Gwynn’s voice, although it still had a tremble, also contained a thunderous undertone that dared him to argue. The man opened his mouth to try before a glance at Shae, towering beside her with a steely glare and crossed arms, changed his mind. “I would not so presume.” He bowed and left in the direction opposite of the one Marni had taken.

  “Thank you on behalf of Mazlo,” said the third watchman while the other two dragged Nostin away. “Good day.”

  Gwynn gazed after them until Shae reclaimed her attention. “Come along; I think you have had enough excitement for one afternoon. I also recall letting you know that exciting can mean unhealthy.” Before he could say 118

  FAE SONG

  more, there was a hail from the street and Corwyn waved from his carriage. “Impeccable timing. Why don’t you go show him your new lute?”

  “And keep the rest of our afternoon between us?”

  “He will probably learn of it soon enough. I am more concerned about the effect it has had on you.” He swung the carriage door open with a flourish. “Come along; don’t subject your voice to the rain, lady bard.”

  “Corwyn, you must see this lovely lute I came across.”

  When Corwyn bent over the lute case she handed him, Gwynn glanced at Shae. Her eyes were still shadowed despite the brightness in her tone. When they returned to the Traveler’s Rest, Corwyn bid them a good afternoon, saying he had some preparations to make for his evening’s performance.

  Once inside their rooms, Shae turned Gwynn to face him and lifted her
chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You have given yourself over to my care; you must understand that I will do whatever I find necessary to protect you.”

  “I do understand, and I know that means you are prepared to hurt or even kill someone trying to harm me.”

  Her gaze dropped to the center of his chest, and the words become a tumbling, breathless rush while she struggled to explain what she was feeling. “The sight of blood doesn’t bother me. I’ve hunted and I’ve healed bleeding wounds before I healed yours. I have seen people die; bards are often called to death beds to ease someone’s passing. You didn’t kill him, and your response was just and I’m grateful. I should have expected the reality, but I didn’t. I feel like a fool-” “You have so far been spared some of the harsher aspects of the world, something to be thankful for, not to feel foolish about. But, in the future, if I put you in a safe place, you are to stay there until I say otherwise. No 119

  FAE SONG

  questions, no arguments, and no disobeying my orders. Is that understood?” he growled.

  “It is understood venchar,” she whispered.

  Shae’s eyebrow rose at her use of the Southron term.

  “Do you know what venchar means?”

  “It means guardian and is often used by charges and fosterlings. I’m not completely ignorant of your language or customs.” It took Gwynn a moment to realize her response would have been more impressive if she had said it to Shae’s face, rather than his jerkin.

  “Your guardian thinks you need a dram or two, which I will fetch while you play with your new toy.”

  “You will have to choose what that dram will be. The only thing I’ve had stronger than wine is ardvasar, but it isn’t allowed into Meran.”

  “Harkir’s Forge, what would possess you to touch that poisonous swil ?”

  A liqueur distilled from the flowers of the ardva plant that grew in Waymar, ardvasar had a startling chartreuse color, extreme alcohol content, and in larger quantities, caused hallucinations. Rarely, a first-time drinker had a violent allergic reaction and died within a heartbeat of lifting a glass to their lips. It was outlawed in half of Balahar and something that Southrons avoided.

  “Many bards have written their finest works under its influence. I seem to have a high tolerance for it.”

  “I will teach you to appreciate a proper Sicarin sipping whiskey,” he assured her. “Get out your lute; I saw the way your fingers were twitching when you put it back in its case at the shop.”

  “I have missed having one.” She opened the case, removed the lute, and leaned over to put the case on the floor. There was a dull thud, followed by another. Lying on the floor next to the case were the two pouches from 120

  FAE SONG

  Nostin’s doublet. “Oh gods! I picked them up when I gave one to Marni. I meant to give the others to one of the watchmen, but I forgot.”

  “That’s quite a predicament you have gotten yourself into, isn’t it? I grab a man for being a cutpurse, turn him over to the city watch, and my charge makes off with the stolen pouches. I find it amusing, although the Mazlo city watch might not see it that way,” he chortled.

  “What?” Gwynn’s voice was loaded with dismay.

  “I had you there, didn’t I?” Shae kept snickering, even when he dodged the heavy green pouch sailing toward his head. He charged her, snatching the second pouch before she could throw it too and waved it under her nose. “Is that any way to treat someone who just saved your life?”

  “No, but it doesn’t help me decide what to do!”

  He opened both pouches, dumping their contents onto the table. “Is there anything here that identifies the owners?”

  “Not that I can see.”

  “You already gave one of them away without a second thought, and since you would be hard put to find the rightful owners, I say you have two choices. Either keep the money or give it for some cause that you deem worthy.”

  “Can I not return them to the city watch?” Gwynn asked. “Why? They won’t have any way of knowing who owns the pouches either, so the watch commander would probably claim it as an unexpected bonus.”

  “What would you do?”

  “Southrons are great believers in expediency. If I knew who the money belonged to, I would return it, but I don’t, so I can’t.”

  “I don’t think I can keep it for myself. I did not earn it honestly.” Gwynn picked up a crown, placing it in his 121

  FAE SONG

  palm. “But you did. Keep it with my heartfelt thanks, although words and crowns are hardly repayment enough.”

  Shae’s lop-sided grin faded, his hand closing around hers. “I just balanced our account. But I still do not understand how you could give one pouch away without thinking and then feel guilty about keeping the other two.”

  “Me either. Just another reason many consider bards to be half mad, I suppose,” Gwynn said, pushing the pile of coins across the table with her free hand. With a shrug, Shae put the money away while she picked up her lute. “It’s nice to have another instrument again; some songs are not suited to the harp. I think I will play both tonight.”

  When they got ready to go down for dinner, Gwynn was once more a source of amusement to him. Laden with harp and lute, she looked overburdened. “Are you a bard or a pack pony? Do you need help?”

  “No, it’s one of the things a bard does. Would you ask me to carry your sword?”

  “I don’t think you’re tall enough.”

  While they were eating, Olin entered the inn and sat down a few tables away, giving Shae the barest of nods.

  Gwynn sang steadily all evening and shortened her usual break, but when Shae asked her about it, she waved off his concern. “I am fine, but this miserable weather has done more than slow trade and flood fields. There are some damp spirits here this evening. I want to help raise them as I can.”

  Just when she put her harp away, Corwyn came in the door.

  She motioned him over and handed him some wine. “How was your evening?”

  “Good, goldsmiths tend to be generous. By the strain I hear in your voice, I would say yours was long. I sounded the same last night when I finished. There are too many low spirits in Mazlo right now. I hope the rain will stop soon, otherwise, we will be a frog’s chorus, rather than bards.”

  122

  FAE SONG

  “All is well my brother. Tomorrow will dawn bright, and we will continue our merry way into the green.” They raised their glasses to each other in a weary toast.

  “You had originally said it would probably last a seven-night. When were you going to tell me this?” Shae’s tone was biting.

  “Before I went to sleep. You always wake up before me, so I thought you could take care of provisions in the morning.”

  “I’m amazed you planned that far ahead.”

  Gwynn stuck her tongue out at him. “You should be happy I managed at al .”

  “Only too true. I am going to check on the horses’

  shoes. The road south is stone, and we don’t want bruised hooves.” He pushed the wine across to Corwyn and Gwynn, catching Olin’s eye. “Finish this off while I go have a look.”

  Olin took the hint and followed Shae from the inn to the stables. Once inside the door, Shae didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “What have you learned?”

  “Your suspicion is correct. Your charge’s harp is no ordinary instrument,” Olin told him. “It is completely unfamiliar to me, and it does not match the signatures of any magical traditions I know. It has a presence and was made by someone with a fantastic amount of magical skill. There are few items like that, and they are hoarded in the vaults of mage schools. I can discern nothing malicious about it, just different. I do not believe it will lead your charge to harm if that is what you are concerned about.”

  “I was.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful. I have a few friends who—”

  Shae stopped him with an upraised hand. “You have helped all I neede
d.” He paid Olin, thinking that while the Harp was still an oddity, knowing it had no intent to harm 123

  FAE SONG

  Gwynn pushed it out of the realm of immediate concern.

  A quick examination proved their horses’ shoes had plenty of wear, something Shae would see to in the morning before they set out. When he came back to the common room, Corwyn had already gone upstairs.

  Gwynn was dozing over her wine but perked up at his approach. “Do the children need shoes?”

  “Yes,” he said, amused at the way she spoke of their mounts. “I will take care of it before we leave.”

  “I’m sorry I hadn’t told you about the rain stopping.

  I only realized it when I spoke to Marni, and then, with everything else that happened, I forgot. I seem to be forgetting a lot today. So much for the celebrated memory of a bard. I sensed a lot of rain. I thought that meant it would last longer, but it didn’t quite work out that way. Predicting weather is at best inexact, but at least I got most of it right.”

  She trailed him in silence back to their rooms, going directly to the bedroom while Shae banked the fire in the front room.

  When he entered the other room, Gwynn was already under the covers, but she rolled over on her side to look at him.

  “Corwyn says we will be sleeping on the ground for a bit.”

  “He would be right.” Shae sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his boots. “We are about a seven-night’s ride from the next good-sized town. It does have an arena, though; maybe we will lay over a day or two so I can do some fighting. There’s the usual scattering of farming hamlets along the way, I’m sure, so provisions won’t be a problem, but who knows if any of them will support an inn.”

  “Most of western Meran is like that, little villages, lots of fields, and orchards. I like the people. Farmers are honest folk, they work hard, they respect the land, and they are grateful for the gifts it gives them. The Kincarans are like that too, but they are mostly sheepherders and woodsmen.