Lark and Wren

and she said it was all right for him to talk to you-but if you don't want to, Rune-'

She sighed, exasperated. 'Oh, it's probably just about the books I have from the shop. The greedy pigs probably want them back.' She tugged at her hair and brushed down her shabby breeches and shirt. 'Do I look like a boy, or a girl?'

Maddie put her head to one side and considered. 'More like a girl, actually.'

'Damn. Oh well, it can't be helped. You might as well bring him up.' She gritted her teeth together. He would show up now, when she was just getting strong enough to enjoy reading.

Maddie vanished, and a few moments later, heavy footsteps following her light ones up the kitchen stairs heralded the arrival of her visitor.

Rune came very near to chuckling at the disgruntled look on the Priest's face. Bad enough to have to come to a brothel to collect part of an estate-worse that he was taken up the back stairs to do so, like a servant.

That's one for you, Tonno, she thought, keeping the smile off her lips somehow. A small one, but there it is.

'Are you Rune of Westhaven?' the balding, thin Priest asked crossly. He was another sort like Brother Pell, but he didn't even have the Brother's love of music to leaven his bitterness. Rune nodded. She waited for him to demand the books; she was going to make him find them all, pick them up, and carry them out himself. Hopefully, down the back stairs again.

But his next words were a complete shock.

'Tonno Alendor left a will, filed as was proper, with the Church, and appointing Brother Bryan as executor of the estate,' the Priest continued, as if every word hurt him. 'In it, everything except the tithe of death-duties and death-taxes was left to you. The shop, the contents, everything.'

He glared at her, as if he wanted badly to know what she had done to 'make' the old man name her as his heir. For her part, she just stared at him, gaping in surprise, unable to speak. Finally the Priest continued in an aggrieved tone.

'Brother Bryan has found a buyer for the shop and contents, with the sole exception being a few books that Tonno mentions specifically that he wanted you to keep. Here's the list-'

He handed it to her with the tips of his fingers, as if touching her or it might somehow contaminate him. She took it, hands shaking as she opened it. As she had expected, they were all the books Tonno had insisted she keep here, at her room.

'If you have no objections,' the Priest finished, his teeth gritted, 'Brother Bryan will complete the purchase. The Church will receive ten percent as death-tithe. He, as executor, will receive another ten percent. City death- taxes are a remaining ten percent. You will receive the bulk of the moneys from the sale. It won't be much,' he finished, taking an acid delight in imparting that bad news. 'The shop is in a bad location, and the contents are a jumble of used merchandise, mostly curiosities, and hard to dispose of. But Brother Bryan will have your moneys delivered here at the conclusion of the sale, and take care of the death-duties himself. Unless you have something else from the shop you would like to keep as a memorial-piece.' Again he pursed his lips sourly. 'The value of that piece, will, of course, be pro-rated against your share.'

She thought quickly, then shook her head. There was nothing there that she wanted. Everything in the shop would be forever tainted with the horrid memories of Tonno's sickness and unnecessary death. Let someone else take it, someone for whom the place would have no such memories. Not even the instruments would be of any use; she could only play fiddle and lute, and Tonno had sold the last of those months ago, during the height of summer.

The Priest took himself out, leaving her still dazed.

She didn't know what to think. How much money was 'not very much'? Assuming that Brother Bryan only got a fraction of what the contents of the shop were worth-and she did not doubt that he would drive a very hard bargain indeed, both for her sake, and the Church's-that was still more money than she had ever had in her life. What was she to do with it? It beggared the pouch full of silver she'd gotten from the Ghost. . . .

She fell asleep, still trying to comprehend it.

This time, her dreams about Jib were troubled. He was plainly unhappy; scorned by the villagers, abused by Stara, ordered about by everyone. And yet, he had nowhere to go. He had no money saved, no prospects-

The village toughs still bullied him, and without Rune to protect him, he often sported bruises or a black eye. They laughed at him for being a coward, but what was he to do? If he fought them, they'd only hurt him further or complain that he had picked the fight, not they. They never came at him by ones or twos, only in a gang.

He'd had an offer from a horse-trader a month ago, an honest man who had been stopping at the Bear for as long as Jib could recall-if he had some money, the man would let him buy into the string and learn the business, eventually to take it over when the trader settled down to breeding. That was the answer to his prayers-but he had no money. The trader would keep the offer open as long as he could, but how long would he wait? A year? More? No matter how long he waited, Jib would still never have it. He got no pay; he'd get no pay for as long as Stara was holding the purse-strings. If he went elsewhere, he might earn pay in addition to his keep, but only if he could produce a good reference, and Stara would never let Jeoff give him one if he left.

He worked his endless round of chores with despair his constant companion. . . .

Rune woke with a start. And she knew at that moment exactly what she was going to do.

The days were warm now, and so were the nights-warm enough to sleep out, at any rate. Now was the time to leave; she'd be at the Faire when it opened if she left now.

But leaving meant good-byes. . . .

She hugged everyone, from Ruby to the new little kitchen-boy, with a lump in her throat. She'd been happier here than anyplace else in her life. If Tonno were still alive, she might have put this off another year.

Not now. It was go now, or give up the dream. Tonno's memory wouldn't let her do that.

'We're sorry to see you leave, Rune,' Amber said with real regret, when Rune hugged her good-bye, her