“Aaron.” He gave Sorrel another look and then returned his gaze to his ale.
“You local?”
“Nah. Traveling through.”
“Where to?”
Aaron looked up again, “Why?”
Sorrel pulled back and raised a hand, “Just curious. I’m a traveler, too. Thought I’d make conversation. Sorry.”
The old man gave a long, gusty sigh. “Nah, I’m sorry. Heading to Woodberry. Got grandkids to look in on. Their Da died.”
“Woodberry. Bad bit of business there.”
“You know?” Aaron paused in his mug in midair.
Sorrel nodded.
“What’ve you heard?”
“Big brawl. Lots of people died. It was a mess.”
“You were there?”
“Nah. Just picked up the word on the road. Avoided it.”
Aaron drank deep from the mug and clonked it on the table. “Yeah. That’s what I’ve heard, too.”
“It’s why I travel.” Sorrel saw Aaron’s questioning look. “To spread joy and leave a place a bit lighter than when I arrived. He tapped the drum on the ground.
“A Bard?”
“Just a minstrel.”
Aaron nodded. “Playing tonight?”
“Aye.”
“Good. I could use some music. It lightens the soul.”
Sorrel gave him a smile with too many teeth. “This will be a night to remember. Speaking of which, it’s time for me to earn my supper.”
Word of the minstrel had spread throughout the small village. Music was always welcome, and the tavern was almost full. The sounds of wooden mugs clopping to the table mixed with the smacking of satisfied lips and the laughter of good conversation. However, when Sorrel took his place in the corner where the singers and dancers performed, the place quieted with an anticipatory buzz of people whispering to each other what they knew of the stranger. Two beats of a drum later and the tavern was almost silent.
“Tonight, a dream of mine is about to come true and all of you here will witness it unfolding.” Sorrel reached down into his pack and pulled out something small and black. “Terek, this is for you.” With that, he tossed the black thing toward Aaron.
It is the most natural thing in the world to catch something tossed to you in a casual manner. Terek’s hands were already wrapping themselves around the cursed item as Sorrel’s drum sounded out a slow beat and Terek realized that his real name had been used. By then it was much too late.
He rocked back as the power of the thing, a statue with large blank eyes and a larger mouth filled with sharp teeth, caught him in a spell. Staring into the statue’s eyes, Terek knew that Sorrel had captured the rest of the audience in a spell, and they would be no help. He felt his own power draining from him as he fell into the statue’s trance.
“Before me stand three promising youngsters, but not every dream can come true.” Terek recognized himself from years before while riding his last circuit. He had been asked to judge the children in the village for potential. And judge he did. “You, young Sorrel, you have some skill but lack both the creativity and the Gift of a true Bard. You will be welcome at campfires, but not in the halls of the Collegium.” With a shake of his head and a turn of his shoulder, he dismissed the boy. Terek saw the boy’s anguish as he fled the square, but that was no longer his concern. These other two children were.
“Aric, you have proven yourself to be both skilled and creative. I have spoken to your parents, and they have agreed to send you to the Collegium. You won’t go alone. You will take with you my personal recommendation. You will be welcomed in courts and merchant houses around Valdemar after your skills have been honed.” Terek gave Aric a scroll tied with a crimson ribbon while the villagers applauded. He patted the boy’s shoulder and gave him a gentle push toward his beaming parents.
Terek smiled and allowed the power of his trained voice to carry his pleasure as he made his final announcement. “Mari, my dear child, you have proven that you have the skill, the creativity, and the Gift to become a Master Bard. I have spoken to your parents, and you will travel with me, finish out my circuit, and then enter the Collegium as the most esteemed of students. You are what every Bard strives to become and the kind of apprentice every Master Bard seeks. You end my quest.”
Locked in a vision of the past, Terek could feel his power, his Gift, being torn from him bit by bit. He struggled to bring his considerable will to bear, but this trap was too well laid and too long in coming. He had fallen for it, and this knowledge settled heavy on his heart. All around him, he was vaguely aware that even his hidden companions, Kolan and Pala, Gifted bards both, were locked in Sorrel’s spell. He wondered how the unGifted peasant boy could have become so powerful. As if in answer to his query, a new vision clouded his mind.
Fleeing through the trees, Sorrel sobbed as his heart broke. His one dream in life, to become a Bard, to show the village he was good enough, was gone. There was nothing left for him now. It was the end. He tripped over a tree root and fell headlong into the dirt. He stayed there, trying to choke off the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him again. He wished he would die.
No, little master, no. Don’t die. I can help you.
Sorrel lifted his head, looking through wet lashes into the forest around him, tears smudging his dirty face but the sobs had halted in surprise at the voice in his head. He shuddered as he took in a breath and wondered if he had gone mad.
Not mad, little master. Far from it. You have found me and I can make all of your dreams come true. Would you like that?
As he looked around, he felt something smooth and cold under his hand. Sticking up from under a tree root was a glossy black stone. He dug until he could pull it out of dirt. It was a statue, a squat thing just longer than his hand and as thick as his fist. Carved on the front of it was a frowning creature with large eyes and a large mouth with thick lips. On the back, the same hideous creature was smiling, open-mouthed, showing off rows of sharp teeth.
“Make my dreams come true?” Sorrel marveled at the thing in his hand as it spoke in his head.
All I need is a sacrifice of blood. Feed me and I will be your slave.
“Sorrel?”
It was Aric. Most likely come to tell him of his failure, too. “Here,” he called as he stood up, statue in hand. He waited for Aric to appear. He’d show him the statue, and the two of them would figure out what to do—just as they always did.
Aric burst into view. He was smiling. Before Sorrel could say anything, Aric grabbed him by the hand, “I did it! I’m going to the Collegium with Master Terek’s recommendation! I did it.”
Sorrel stared as his friend broke his heart all over again.
“I’m sorry you didn’t make it, but I was thinking after my training, you could travel with me, anyway. You’re really good on the drum. You could be part of my entourage. I’m going to have one of those I’m sure after I’m done. We’ll still be together and making music!”
Hot roses bloomed on Sorrel’s cheeks as Aric added insult to injury. Come be part of Aric’s entourage? Become one of Aric’s lackeys? An unfamiliar emotion rose out of the shards of Sorrel’s dream. Hate. Hate for his friend and his good fortune.
Heedless of Sorrel’s clenching fists and flushed face, Aric had continued on, dancing around his friend, “Maybe they’ll let you come to the Collegium with me anyway. Maybe I can say I won’t do it without you. Or maybe I should just take you with me, and we’ll just see what happens. We’re going to get out of here! Isn’t that great?”
I need just one blood sacrifice and all your dreams come true. Will you sacrifice him to me?
“Yes,” Sorrel said and stepped close to the boy lost in his own dreams.
Aric grinned at Sorrel, not realizing that his friend had not answered him until the first blow came. By then, it was much too late.
Terek groaned aloud as he watched Sorrel beat Aric to death with the
