"That shows how little you understand minstrels," she said. "There is no more powerful lure for one than that. But I suppose there is more. No. I know there is." She looked up at me suddenly, her eyes meeting mine squarely. "I had a little brother. Jay. He was a guard stationed at the Antler Island Tower. He saw you fight the day the Raiders came." She gave a brief snort of laughter. "Actually, you stepped over him. You sank your axe into the man who had just struck him down. And waded deeper into the battle without even a glance back at him." She looked at me from the corner of her eye. "That is why I sing `Antler Tower Raid' slightly differently from any other minstrel. He told me of it, and I sing you as he saw you. A hero. You saved his life."
She looked abruptly aside from me. "For a time, anyway. He died later, fighting for Buck. But for a time, he lived because of your axe." She stopped speaking, and swung her cloak around her shoulders. "Stay here," she told me. "Rest. I won't be back until late. You can have the bed until then, if you want."
She whisked out the door without waiting for a reply. I stood for a time staring at the closed door. FitzChivalry. Hero. Just words. But it was as if she had lanced something inside me, drained away some poison, and now I could heal. It was the strangest feeling. Get some sleep, I advised myself. I actually felt as if I could.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN. Smugglers
THERE ARE FEW spirits so free as those of traveling minstrels, at least within the Six Duchies. If a minstrel is sufficiently talented, he can expect almost all rules of conduct to be suspended for him. They are permitted to ask the most prying of questions as a normal part of their trade. Almost without exception, a minstrel can presume hospitality anywhere from the King's own table to the lowliest hovel. They seldom marry in youth, though it is not unusual for them to bear children. Such children are free of the stigma of other bastards, and are frequently keep raised to become minstrels themselves. It is expected of minstrels that they will consort with outlaws and rebels as well as nobles and merchants. They carry messages, bring news, and hold in their long memories many an agreement and promise. At least, so it is in times of peace and plenty.
Starling came in so late, Burrich would have regarded it as early morning. I was awake the instant she touched the latch. I rolled quickly off her bed as she came in, then wrapped myself well in my cloak and lay down on the floor. "FitzChivalry," she greeted me fuzzily, and I could smell the wine on her breath. She stripped off her damp cloak, looked sideways at me, then spread it over me as an extra covering. I closed my eyes.
She dropped her outer clothing to the floor behind me with a fine disregard for my presence. I heard the give of the bed as she threw herself onto it. "Um. Still warm," she muttered, shouldering into the bedding and pillows. "I feel guilty, taking your warm spot. "
Her guilt could not have been too sharp-edged, for in just a matter of moments her breathing went deep and even. I followed her example.
I awoke very early and left the inn. Starling didn't stir as I let myself out of her room. I walked until I found a bathhouse. The baths were almost deserted at this hour of the day; I had to wait while the day's first water was warmed. When it was ready, I stripped down and clambered gingerly in. I eased the ache in my shoulder in the deep, hot tub. I washed myself. Then I leaned back in the hot water and silence and thought.
I didn't like taking up with the smugglers. I didn't like linking up with Starling. I couldn't see any other choice. I could not think of how I'd bribe them to take me. I had little enough coin. Burrich's earring? I refused to consider it. For a long time, I lay up to my chin in the water and refused to consider it. Come to me. I would find another way, I swore to myself. I would. I thought of what I had felt back in Tradeford when Verity had intervened to save me. That blast of Skill had left Verity without reserves. I did not know his situation, only that he had not hesitated to expend all he had for my sake. And if I had to choose between parting with Burrich's earring and going to Verity, I would choose Verity. Not because he had Skill-summoned me, nor even for the oath I had sworn to his father. For Verity.
I stood up and let the water stream off me. I dried off, spent a few minutes attempting to trim my beard, gave it up as a bad job, and went back to the Boar's Head. I had one bad moment on my way back to the inn. A wagon passed me as I strode along, none other than the wagon of Dell the puppeteer. I kept walking briskly and the young journeyman driving the wagon gave no sign of noticing me. Nonetheless, I was glad to reach the inn and get inside.