The Name of the Wind

I felt a twinge of anxiety, but I knew rubbing elbows with the nobility was something of a necessary evil. “I’d be honored to, my lord.”

Threpe grimaced. “Does it have to be my lord?”

Diplomacy is a large part of being a trouper, and a large portion of diplomacy is adherence to title and rank. “Etiquette, my lord,” I said regretfully.

“Piss on etiquette,” Threpe said petulantly. “Etiquette is a set of rules people use so they can be rude to each other in public. I was born Dennais first, Threpe second, and count last of all.” He looked imploringly up at me. “Denn for short?”

I hesitated.

“Here at least,” he pleaded. “It makes me feel like a weed in a flowerbed when someone starts ‘lording’ me here.”

I relaxed. “If it makes you happy, Denn.”

He flushed as if I’d flattered him. “Tell me a bit about yourself, then. Where are you lodging?”

“On the other side of the river,” I said evasively. The bunks in Mews were not exactly glamorous. When Threpe gave me a puzzled look, I continued. “I attend the University.”

“The University?” he asked, clearly puzzled. “Are they teaching music now?”

I almost laughed at the thought. “No no. I’m in the Arcanum.”

I immediately regretted my words. He leaned back in his seat and gave me an uncomfortable look. “You’re a warlock?”

“Oh no,” I said, dismissively “I’m just studying. You know, grammar, mathematics....” I picked two of the more innocent fields of study I could think of, and he seemed to relax a bit.

“I guess I’d just thought that you were ...” he trailed off and shook himself. “Why are you studying there?”

The question caught me off guard. “I ... I’ve always wanted to. There’s so much to learn.”

“But you don’t need any of that. I mean—” he groped for words. “The way you play Surely your patron is encouraging you to focus on your music....”

“I don’t have a patron, Denn,” I said with a shy smile. “Not that I’m opposed to the idea, mind you.”

His reaction was not what I expected. “Damn my blackened luck.” He slapped his hand on the table, hard. “I assumed someone was being coy, keeping you a secret.” He thumped the table with his fist. “Damn. Damn. Damn.”

He recovered his composure a little and looked up at me. “I’m sorry. It’s just that...” He made a frustrated gesture and sighed. “Have you ever heard the saying: ‘One wife, you’re happy, two and you’re tired—”

I nodded. “—three and they’ll hate each other—”

“—four and they’ll hate you,” Threpe finished. “Well the same thing is doubly true for patrons and their musicians. I just picked up my third, a struggling flutist.” He sighed and shook his head. “They bicker like cats in a bag, worried they’re not getting enough attention. If only I’d known you were coming along, I would have waited.”

“You flatter me, Denn.”

“I’m kicking myself is what I’m doing,” he sighed and looked guilty. “That’s not fair. Sephran’s good at what he does. They’re all good musicians, and overprotective of me, just like real wives.” He gave me an apologetic look. “If I try to bring you in, there’ll be hell to pay. I’ve already had to lie about that little gift I gave you last night.”

“So I’m your mistress then?” I grinned.

Threpe chuckled. “Let’s not carry the analogy too far. I’ll be your matchmaker instead. I’ll help you toward a proper patron. I know everyone with blood or money for fifty miles, so it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“That would be a great help,” I said earnestly. “The social circles on this side of the river are a mystery to me.” A thought occurred to me. “Speaking of which, I met a young lady last night, and didn’t find out much about her. If you’re familiar with the town ...” I trailed off hopefully.

He gave me a knowing look. “Ahhh, I see.”

“No no no,” I protested. “She’s the girl that sang along with me. My Aloine. I was just hoping to find her to pay my respects.”

Threpe looked as if he didn’t believe me, but wasn’t going to make an issue of it. “Fair enough, what’s her name?”

“Dianne.” Threpe seemed to be waiting for more. “That’s all I know.”

Threpe snorted. “What did she look like? Sing it if you have to.”

I felt the beginning of a flush on my cheeks. “She had dark hair to about here,” I gestured a little lower than my shoulder with one hand. “Young, fair skin.” Threpe watched me expectantly. “Pretty.”

“I see,” Threpe mused, rubbing his lips. “Did she have her talent pipes?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Does she live in the city?”

I shrugged my ignorance again, feeling more and more foolish.

Threpe laughed. “You’re going to have to give me more than that.” He looked over my shoulder. “Wait, there’s Deoch. If anyone could spot a girl for you, it’d be him.” He raised his hand. “Deoch!”

“It’s really not that important,” I said hurriedly. Threpe ignored me and waved the broad-shouldered man over to our table.

Deoch strolled over and leaned against a table. “What can I do for you?”

“Our young singer needs a little information about a lady that he met last night.”