Lark and Wren

he asked. 'I must admit, that alone was worth being here for.' He glanced over his shoulder at the now-empty shadows at the tail of the wagon. 'I haven't said anything to the others, but the fact is, I've been uneasy about camping outside of settled lands ever since that particular incident occurred. This little trinket'-he tapped the bracelet-'takes a tremendous load off my mind.'

Peregrine sobered. 'In part, but only in part. I must speak to you of magic; of the usage and taming. Some of what I tell you, you may not understand for years-but it is all important, and I must ask you to pay close attention and grave it deeply in your excellent memory. If all goes as we wish, I may be able to continue to teach you for years to come. But if Fate rules against us, this may be all the instruction you will ever receive. I would give you as much as you can hold, planning for that.'

Talaysen nodded, and quickly put himself into the little half-trance he used when he memorized lyrics in a foreign tongue. Everything he heard would be remembered, regardless of whether or not he understood it.

'Good.' Peregrine took a deep breath, and held his hands out. A soft blue glow played over them, and Talaysen heard a faint, flute-like song, somewhere deep inside of him. 'This is the way of the inner path, the hidden power. The way of magic. And now-it begins. . . .'

Rune watched Gwyna out of the corner of her eye, and grinned. There was no doubt about it; Gypsy Robin was well and truly smitten with their new charge, even though she might not know it yet.

She didn't act a great deal differently; in fact, it wasn't likely that anyone else noticed. But she paid no attention to anyone else in the camp, and when over the course of the evening several young men came up to her and whispered invitations in her ear, she declined them all with a shake of the head. That was not normal. Gwyna had a reputation as a lusty lover that rivaled any of the male Free Bards, and Rune had never heard of her declining all invitations for dalliance before. And especially not when several of those she declined had been her lovers in the past.

But she didn't leave the firelit circle with anyone, not even for an hour. And she stayed with Jonny, who smiled much and said little.

He was doing very well, now that he had begun to relax. The Gypsies paid no heed to his stutter, which was putting him at ease. He had begun to laugh at the jokes, and look up from his knees occasionally.

Gwyna was praising his melodic ability just now, which made him blush. Over the past two days, he had set melodies to several of Robin's lyrics that were easily the equal of any of the younger Free Bards' efforts. 'Oh, but it's true,' she said, to his mumbled disclaimer. 'The words come easily to me, but melody? Never. You have the hardest part, Jonny.'

'B-but I c-cannot find w-words,' he replied earnestly. 'I am j-just n-not cle-cle-cle-cle-cle-cle-cle-cle-oh d-d- damn!' His face twisted up, and Rune started to get to her feet, afraid that such a blatant exposure of his stutter would send him fleeing to solitude.

But he stayed, as the silence deepened, and the Gypsies held their breaths, sensing how precarious his moment of courage was. He stared at his fists which were balled up on his knees, and Rune hoped that it was not because he was about to go silent again.

Finally he looked up from his clenched fists, and managed a feeble smile. 'D-d-damn it,' he repeated. 'S-s- stupid s-s-stutter. Cle-cle-cle-I s-s-sound l-l-like a k-k-kestrel.'

A relieved laugh answered his feeble joke, and Giorgio, one of the largest of the clan, slapped him lightly on the back, with a care to his thin body and small stature. 'Then you have named yourself, my friend!' he boomed. ' 'Master Kestrel' you shall be! And never disparage the kestrel, for he is bolder for his size than even the goshawk, brave enough to take on enemies that would make a meal of him if they could, brave enough even to attack the human who comes too near his nest!'

Giorgio raised his mug of wine. 'To Master Kestrel!' he shouted.

The rest followed his lead. 'To Master Kestrel!' they replied, Rune shouting just as loudly as the rest. And when she had drained her mug in the toast, and looked again, Jonny's eyes were shining, and he no longer stared at his hands.

Later, Gwyna even coaxed him out of his seat to dance with her. By then, Gwyna's other suitors had noticed her interest in the young musician, and had turned their attentions elsewhere. Rune couldn't help wondering at that point if Gwyna herself realized what had happened to her. She finally decided that the Gypsy probably hadn't recognized the symptoms of a condition she had caused so often in others. Gwyna had been heart-whole until now, enjoying her companions the way she enjoyed a round of good music or a dance. The oldest game of man and maid had been a sport to her, and nothing more.

I don't think it's a sport anymore, Rune thought, with amusement. I wonder how long it's going to take her to notice that her outlook's changed in the past few days.

The music, dance, and tale-spinning continued on long into the night, until the stars had swung halfway around in their nightly dance, and the moon had set. At moonset, the Gypsies and Free Bards began to trickle away to tents and wagons; singly, in pairs, and in family groups with sleeping children draped like sacks over their parents' backs. Just as Rune started to yawn and wonder where Talaysen was, he appeared at her side and sat down beside her.

'Where have you been?' she asked-curiously, rather than with any hint of accusation. 'You said you were going to talk to Peregrine, and then no one knew where you were. I thought the Earth had swallowed you up.'

'It almost did,' he replied, rubbing his temple with one hand, as if his head ached.

She saw a gleam of silver in the firelight, and caught at the wrist of that hand. He was wearing a silver bracelet that fit so closely to his wrist that it might have been fitted to him, yet which had no visible catch. 'Where did you get that? From Peregrine?' she asked, fascinated by the trinket. 'It's really lovely-but I thought you didn't wear jewelry.'

'I usually don't. Here.' He slipped an identical bracelet over her hand before she could pull away, and she muffled an exclamation as it shrank before her eyes to fit her wrist just as tightly as Talaysen's fit his.

He put his lips to her ear. 'A gift from the High King of the Elves. His messenger says that it marks us as under his protection.'

She blinked, as a thousand possible meanings for 'protection' occurred to her. 'Is that good, or bad?' she whispered back. 'I don't think I'm interested in another visit under a Hill like the last one.'

'According to the messenger, these are supposed to keep visits like that within polite boundaries. By