Lark and Wren

and Pearl are more than whores, Rune.'

'I'm-' she said, and coughed to clear her throat. 'I'm, uh-beginning to see that.'

'So how did you come here, Rune?' Sapphire persisted. 'When I heard you speak, I swear, you carried me right back to my village!'

Once again, Rune gave a carefully edited version of her travels and travails-though she made light of the latter, sensing from Sapphire's earlier comments that her experiences had been a great deal more harrowing than Rune's. She also left out the Skull Hill Ghost; time enough to talk about him when she'd made a song out of him and there'd be no reason to suspect that the adventure was anything more than a song.

Sapphire sat entranced through all of it, though Rune suspected that half of her 'entrancement' was another skill she had acquired; the ability to listen and appear fascinated by practically anything.

When Rune finished, Sapphire raised her glass again. 'And here's to a young lady who refused to keep to her place as decreed by men and God,' she said. 'And had the gumption to pack up and set out on her own.'

'Thank you,' Rune said, flattered. 'But I've a long way to go before I'm a Guild apprentice. Right now I intend to concentrate on keeping myself fed and out of trouble until I master my second instrument.'

'Good.' Amber turned a critical eye on her clothing, and Rune flushed again. 'Please talk to Tonno about finding you some costumes, would you?'

That was a clear dismissal if ever Rune had heard one. And since she had decided to take advantage of her promised meal by making it supper-especially if she was going to dine like she had last night-she took her leave.

But she took to the streets in search of a busking-corner with her head spinning. Nothing around here was the way she had thought it would be. The folk who should have been honest and helpful-the Church-were taking in money and attempting to cheat over it at every turn. And the folk who should have been the ones to avoid-Amber and her 'ladies'-had gone out of their way to give her a place. Of course, she was going to have to work for that place, but still, that didn't make things any less than remarkable. Amber was about as different from the fellow who set up at the Faires as could be imagined-and the ladies, at least Sapphire, as different from his hard-eyed dancers. They seemed to think of themselves as providing a service, even if it was one that was frowned upon by the Church.

Then again, it was the Church who frowned upon anything that didn't bring money to its coffers and servants to its hands. Doubtless the Church had found no way for the congress between men and women to bring profit to them-so they chose instead to make it, if not forbidden, then certainly not encouraged.

Rune shook her head and stepped out into the sunlight surrounding the fountain. It was all too much for her. Those were the worries of the high and mighty. She had other things to attend to-to find breakfast, pay her tax and tithe, buy her permit, and set up for busking until it was time for her lessons.

And that was enough for any girl to worry about on a bright early summer morning.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Midmorning found her back on the corner between the drink-stall and the sausage-stall, and both owners were happy to see her; happier still to see the badge of her permit pinned to the front of her vest. She set herself up with a peculiar feeling of permanence, and the sausage roll vendor confirmed that when he asked her if she planned to make this her regular station. She didn't have a chance to answer him then, but once the nuncheon rush was over and he had time again to talk, he brought it up again.

She considered that idea for a moment, nibbling at her lip. This wasn't a bad place; not terribly profitable, but not bad. There was a good deal of traffic here, although the only folks that passed by that appeared to have any money at all were the Church functionaries. Still, better spots probably already had 'residents.' This one might even have a regular player later in the day, when folk were off work and more inclined to stop and listen.

'I don't know,' she said truthfully. 'Why?'

'Because if ye do, me'n Jak there'll save it for ye,' the sausage-man told her, as she exchanged part of her collection of pins for her lunch. 'There's a juggler what has it at night, but we c'n save it fer ye by day. Th' wife knows a seamstress; th' seamstress allus needs pins.' He leaned forward a bit, earnestly, his thin face alive with the effort of convincing her. 'Barter's no bad way t'go, fer a meal or twain. An 'f ye get known fer bein' here, could be ye'll get people comin' here t' hear ye a-purpose.'

'An we'll get th' custom,' the cider-vendor said with a grin, leaning over his own counter to join the conversation. 'Ain't bad fer ev'body.'

Now that was certainly true; she nodded in half-agreement.

'Ye get good 'nough, so ye bring more custom, tell ye what we'll do,' the cider-vendor Jak said, leaning forward even farther, and half-whispering confidentially. 'We'll feed ye fer free. Nuncheon, anyway. But ye'll have t' bring us more custom nor we'd had already.'

After a moment of thought, the sausage-vendor nodded. 'Aye, we c'n do that, if ye bring us more custom. 'Nough t' pay th' penny fer yer share, anyway,' he said. 'That'll do, I reckon.'

His caution amused her, even while she felt a shade of annoyance at their penny-pinching. Surely one sausage roll and a mug of cider wasn't going to ruin their profits in a day! 'How would I know?' Rune asked with a touch of irony. 'I mean, I'd only have your word that I hadn't already done that.'

'Well now, ye'd just haveta trust us, eh?' Jak said with a grin, and she found herself wondering what the juggler thought of these two rogues. 'What can ye lose? Good corners are hard t' find. A' when ye find one, mebbe sommut's already there. An' ye know ye can trade off yer pins here, even if we says ye hain't brought in 'nough new business t' feed ye free. Not ev'body takes pins. Ask that blamed Church vulture t'take pins, he'll laugh in yer face.'

That was true enough. She looked the corner over with a critical eye. It seemed to be adequately sheltered from everything but rain. The wind wouldn't whip through here the way it might a more open venue. Sure, it was summer now, but there could be cold storms even in summer, and winter was coming; she was going to have to think ahead to the next season. She still had to eat, pay her tax and tithe on the trade-value of what she was getting from Amber, and enlarge her wardrobe. Right now she had no winter clothes, and none suitable for the truly hot days of summer. She'd have to take care of that, as well.

' 'F it rains, ye come in here,' Jak said, suddenly. 'I reckon Lars'd offer, but he's got that hot fat back there,