Lark and Wren

unexpected.

The Free Bards, for instance-contrasted with the Guild Bards. Talaysen's group was a great deal more in the way of what she had thought the Guild Bards would be like. The Free Bards took care of each other; she had seen with her own eyes right here at the Faire how the Guild Bards squabbled and fought among themselves for the plum jobs. And if someone were unfortunate to lose one of those jobs due to accident, illness or the like, well, his fellow Guild members would commiserate in public but rejoice in private, and all scramble for the choice tidbit like so many quarreling dogs under the table.

And the Church-there had been a set of shocks, though she'd been prepared for some of them from the rumors she'd heard. That though it officially frowned upon magic, it held a cadre of mages-well, she'd learned that was true enough, though Lady Ardis had warned her not to confirm the rumor to anyone. And though there were plenty of venial Priests, there were some like Lady Ardis, who would aid anyone who needed it, and valued honor and ethics above gold.

Then there was Talaysen-an enigma if ever she saw one. A Guild Bard once, he could still claim his place any time he wanted to-and he refused. Even though that refusal cost him in patronage and wealth.

She wasn't certain how he felt about her. He didn't treat her as a child, though she was his apprentice. He watched her constantly when he thought she wasn't looking, and the eyes he followed her with were the eyes of a starving man. But when he spoke with her or taught her, he had another look entirely; he teased her as if he was her elder brother, and he never once gave a hint that his feelings ran any deeper than that.

Yet whenever someone else seemed to be playing the gallant with her, he'd find himself watched so closely that he would invariably give up the game as not worth it. After all, no one wanted to invoke Talaysen's displeasure.

And no one wants to interfere with anyone that Master Wren is finally taking an interest in, she thought, with heavy irony. The only problem is, the Master doesn't seem to know he's taken that interest.

Gwyna had at least told her that Talaysen had remained virtually celibate for the last several years, though no one knew why. There didn't seem to be any great, lost loves in his life, although Lady Ardis had hinted that he might at least have had a dalliance that could have become a love, if he had pursued it. For some reason, he hadn't.

Well, if there's no lost loves, there's no ghosts for me to fight. I've got that much in my favor.

Rune had decided in the last week of the Faire how she felt about Master Wren. And there was nothing celibate about what she wanted. She had never in all her life met with a man who so exactly suited her in every way. Of course, she'd never seen him out of company-out on the road, he might turn surly, hard to get along with. But she didn't think so. He had a great deal to teach, and she to learn, but in performance, at least, they were absolute partners, each making up for the other's weaknesses. She had every reason to think that the partnership would continue when they were on their own.

Now if I can just warm it up to something more than 'partnership.'

She finished the packs; Talaysen was making farewells and giving some last-minute directions, so she had elected to pack up, and not because she was the apprentice and he expected it-which he didn't. It was because he was doing what his duties required, and she had free hands. The accord had been reached without either of them saying a word.

She set the packs aside and waited for him to return. Out beyond the Faire palings, the merchants were also breaking down and preparing to leave. The Midsummer Faire was over for another year.

She was surprised to feel an odd sense of loss, of uncertainty. For the past three weeks at least, ever since her splint had come off, she had known what every day would bring. Now it was completely new; she hadn't ever really traveled the roads for a living, and the idea was a little daunting.

Finally, as the sun crossed the zenith-line, he returned. 'Well, are we ready?' he asked.

She nodded. 'Packed and provisioned, Master Wren.' She hefted her pack up and slung it over her back; her fiddle was safe inside, and her harp and lute were fastened securely on the outside. She wished briefly that Talaysen had a horse, or even a little donkey they could use to carry their supplies. With a beast their pace could be much faster, though it would be an added expense.

While you're wishing, Rune, why don't you wish for a pair of riding horses while you're at it?

Still, a donkey could eat almost anything; it wouldn't be that much of a burden unless they stayed in a town.

And a donkey makes you look more prosperous, and makes you a target for robbers.

Talaysen blinked in surprise, and hefted his own pack onto his back. 'I hadn't expected you to be ready quite so soon,' he said mildly. 'I took you for town-bred, and not used to the road life.'

She shrugged. 'I walked from Westhaven to Nolton, from Nolton to here. I learned a bit.'

'So I see.' He shifted the pack into a comfortable position on his back. 'Well, if you're ready, so am I.'

So it was that simple, after all. They simply left the tent, with a farewell wave to Erdric as he gave the two hired men their instructions, and took their place in the steady stream of people leaving by the road to the north.

Talaysen seemed disinclined to talk, so she held her peace as they walked at a good pace along the verge. The press of people leaving was not as heavy as the one of those arriving had been, and most of them were driving heavily loaded wagons, not walking. Their pace was set by the pace of whoever was in the lead of this particular group of travelers. The other folk on foot, at least those that Rune saw, were limited to some small peddlers who had probably been vending impulse-goods from trays, and nondescript folk who could have been anything. The former toiled under packs that would have made a donkey blanch; the latter beneath burdens like their own. The pace that Talaysen set had them passing most other foot-travelers, and all the carts. The sun beat down on all of them, regardless of rank or station, and while there were frequent smiles and nods from those they passed, no one seemed inclined to talk. Halfway into the afternoon, though, they took the first turning to the right, a track so overgrown that she would never have picked it herself. It seemed no one else had chosen it either, at least not today. And no one followed them for as long as she could see the main road when she glanced behind them. She cast him a doubtful look that he never noticed, and followed along a step or two behind