The Kardown Faire lasted only three days; it wasn't a very large Faire, but because it was a wool-market Faire, it tended to be a wealthy one. They found Gwyna waiting for them at the bare excuse for a gate in the sketchy fence surrounding the Faire on the town common; she had already found a good camping site, screened on three sides by bushes and trees, and claimed it for all three of them. Rune was happy to see her; a real friendly face, a known face, was a luxury she'd missed without realizing it.
Three days were just enough time for them to recoup some of their losses-and barely time for Gwyna to finish telling them the news of her adventures, and those of the other Free Bards she'd met with. Rune noticed something a little odd about Gwyna's behavior from the first, though it was nothing having to do with either her or Talaysen. Gwyna would keep glancing about nervously when she thought she was alone, and no longer bantered with strangers. And whenever she saw someone in a long robe, she became very, very quiet.
They had stayed together as a trio during the entire Faire; Gwyna had been delighted to hear of the wedding (much to Rune's relief). But that wasn't why they stayed as a group; their primary consideration was that Gwyna no longer seemed quite so fearlessly self-reliant, which accounted for the odd behavior Rune had noticed. Her misadventure with the mage-Priest had shaken her more than she would admit to anyone, even Rune. But Rune saw it in the way she constantly looked over her shoulder for trouble, even when there was no reason to, and in her troubled dreams at night. Gypsy Robin had gotten a bad shock, and she hadn't recovered from it yet.
She'd parted with Master Stork about a week after the Midsummer Faire, and it looked to Rune as if she hadn't had a steady night of sleep since. Talaysen told her he thought Gwyna must be sleeping with one eye open, and Rune figured he was probably right.
Gwyna played at being lighthearted, still, but her jesting often fell flat, her spirits were dampened, and she seemed to be certain that there was danger lurking just out of sight, especially at night. Not that Rune blamed her. But she was carrying more knives now, and openly; something that had the potential for serious problems if she felt herself threatened. If someone propositioned her in a way she thought was dangerous, in her state of heightened nerves, she might well draw on him-and use what she drew.
At the end of the third day, Gwyna went off to bring back water for their little camp, leaving Rune cleaning vegetables and Talaysen setting the fire, alone together for the first time that day. She decided to broach what had been on her mind since she'd seen the state Gwyna was in.
'Is it going to be any harder to find a wintering-over spot for a trio than it is for a duet?' she asked.
He looked up from the fire. 'No, I don't think so,' he said. 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'
Rune nodded. 'We can't let her go out there by herself until she gets over her nerves. She'll either wear herself out, or hurt someone.'
'Or herself.' He sat back on his heels. 'I hadn't wanted to ask you, because it means-well-' He blushed. 'We won't have our privacy.'
'Lecher,' she said, and grinned. 'Oh, we can have our privacy. We just ask her to take a long walk. Seriously, though, we ought to invite her.'
'You ought to invite her to what?' Gwyna asked lightly, as she rounded the corner of the half-shelter they'd erected, coming into their little protective circle of trees.
'We thought you ought to come with us for a while,' Talaysen said. 'We'd like your company. We've missed you.'
'And?' Gwyna replied, setting down the canvas bucket in the hole they'd dug to hold it. 'You're not inviting me because of my sparkling conversation, and you two have got quite enough companionship on your own, thanks.'
'You look awful,' Rune said frankly. 'I told Wren that I thought it was because you're trying to stay up all night on guard. And we could use a third to split the watches with. It's hard enough sleeping at night with two; you never get a full night's sleep going watch-on-watch, and if you both fall asleep, well, you take your chances. Three can keep watches and still have time for a decent night's sleep.'
'True,' Gwyna replied thoughtfully, twining a strand of her hair around one finger. 'There's a lot of unrest out in the countryside. I know there's been more feuds lately. They say it's because the High King is getting old and he's not keeping the Twenty Kings in line.'
'What difference does that-' Rune began, then made the connection herself. 'Oh. The Twenty Kings are busy trying to compete to be High King and ignoring the Barons and Dukes. And they're playing their own power games, and ignoring the Sires.'
'Who are now free to take up their feuds again,' Talaysen finished. 'It all comes down to the bottom, eventually. That means us, who end up having to deal with bandits on the road; bandits who are there because the Sires aren't hunting them down.' He grimaced. 'The Church should be taking a hand here, but they won't.'
'Other things come down to the common folk, too,' Gwyna said. 'I haven't seen any more bandits, but that's because I don't travel the main roads. Some of the others have run into trouble, though, and it seems to me to be more this year than last.' She sat in thought for a while, her skirts spread in a colorful puddle around her. 'I'll tell you what; I'll stick with you until the first snow. If you haven't found a wintering-up place for all three of us by then, we'll go thirds on a wagon and join one of my Family caravans. Will that suit you?'
Talaysen nodded and Rune heaved a silent sigh of relief. Gwyna could be so touchy when she thought someone was trying to protect her, but this time she needed protection. She was a lot younger than she looked, sounded, or acted. Gypsy children tended to grow up very quickly, but that didn't mean she was as mature as she appeared. A shock like she'd gotten could unseat the reason of someone Talaysen's age. Gwyna needed time to find her balance again.
'That solves our problem pretty neatly,' Rune offered with absolute truth. 'After getting shut out of three Faires, we were wondering if we were going to have even a chance at finding a winter position. So, if we don't'- she shrugged-'then we don't and we've got an alternate plan.'
'Well good, then,' Gwyna replied, relaxing. 'Glad to be able to help. And don't worry about my getting underfoot too much. I'll find lots of reasons to take long walks, and some of them may even be genuine!' She winked, and Rune blushed, glad that the sunset color hid the red flush of her cheeks. 'Are we leaving tomorrow morning early or late?'
'Late,' Talaysen said. 'All the heavy wagons and the herds are moving out at dawn, and I'd rather wait until they're well on their way. It's easier for us to pass them on the road than it is to get around the tangle when they leave.' He grimaced. 'And the drivers are a little less-'
The unusual sound of the clopping of hooves coming towards their campsite made him look up from his fire. 'Who or what could that be?'
Rune shrugged, and looked over to Gwyna, who also shrugged. Odd. It's plainly someone with beasts. What can he want with us?
A weathered old man, a horse-trader by the harness-bits attached to his jacket, came around the corner of the half-shelter. He led a pair of sturdy pony-mules of the kind that the Gypsies used to pull their wagons and carry their goods, and stopped just as he reached conversational distance. The beasts stopped obediently behind him, and one nuzzled him and blew into his hair.
'Be you a minstrel called Rune?' he asked, looking directly at her.
Rune nodded in surprise.
'Can ye name me yer ma and yer village?' the old man continued.
'My mother is Stara, who last worked in the Hungry Bear Inn; that's in my old village of Westhaven,' she replied politely. This had the sound of someone trying to identify her for some reason. Possibly a letter from Amber? But why send it via a horse-trader?
'An' who would ye say's yer best friend there?' the man persisted, though just as politely as she.
'That's an easy one,' she said. 'I only had one good friend when I left: Jib, the horse-boy.'
'Then ye be the Rune I be lookin' fer.' The man doffed his hat, and grinned. 'Yon Jib's the lad I took on as m'partner this spring, an' damn if he ain't done better nor any on' us had reason t' think. He sen's ye these liddle lads, by way'o thanks, he says.' He proffered the lead-reins, and Rune rose to take them, stunned with surprise. 'He says ye's a right 'nuff lass, an' ye know how t' take care of a beast-I mind ye got a gyppo there by ye, though-' he nodded towards Gwyna, who nodded back. 'There ain't none born can take care 'f a horse like a gyppo, so's ye make sure'n lissen t' the lady, eh?'
'I'll do that,' Rune promised solemnly, too stunned to say anything else. 'These are Vargians, right?'
'Aye,' the man replied. 'An' good lads, too. I wouldna let 'em go t' none but a gyppo or a friend or friend a'the
