'Uh -- '
'Thought so.' Tarma closed her eyes again in satisfaction. 'This job should do it, then. Through Idra we'll have contacts right up into the Royal ranks. If we can't wangle the property, students and wherewithal for our schools after this, we'll never get it.'
'We'd have had it before this if it hadn't been for that damned minstrel!' Now it was Kethry's turn to snap with irritation.
'Must you remind me?' Tarma groaned, burying her face in the crook of her arm. 'Leslac, Leslac, if it weren't for Bardic immunity I'd have killed you five times over!'
'You'd have had to stand in line,' Kethry countered with grim humor. 'I'd have beat you to it. Bad enough that he sings songs about us, worse that he gets the salient points all backwards, but -- '
'To give us the reputation that we're shining Warriors of the Light is too damned muck!'
They had discovered some four or five years ago that there was a particular Bard, one Leslac by name, who was making a specialty of creating ballads about their exploits. That would have been all to the good, for it was certainly spreading their name and reputation far and wide -- except that he was also leaving the impression that the pair of them were less interested in money than in Just Causes.
Leslac had stressed and overstressed their habit of succoring women in distress and avenging those who were past distress. So now anyone who had an ax to grind came looking for them -- most particularly, women. And usually they came with empty pockets, or damned little in the way of payment to offer, while the paying jobs they would rather have taken had been trickling away to others -- because those who might have offered those jobs couldn't believe they'd be interested in 'mere money.'
And to add true insult to injury, a good half of the time Kethry's geas-blade Need would force them into taking those worthless Just Causes. For Need's geas was, as written on her blade, 'Woman's Need calls me/As Woman's Need made me./Her Need will I answer/As my maker bade me.' By now Kethry was so soul-bonded to the sword that it would have taken a god to free her from it. Most of the time it was worth it; the blade imparted absolute weapons expertise to Kethry, and would Heal anything short of a death wound on any woman holding it. And after the debacle with the demon-godling Thalhkarsh, Need had seemed to quiet down in her demands, unless directly presented with a woman in dire trouble. But with all those Just Causes showing up, Need had been rapidly turning into something more than a bit expensive to be associated with, thanks to Leslac.
They'd been at their wits' ends, and finally had gone to another couple of mercenaries, old friends of theirs, Justin Twoblade and Ikan Dryvale, for advice. They hadn't really hoped the pair would have any notions, but they were the last resort. And, somewhat to Tarma's surprise, they'd had advice.
It was the off-season for the Jewel Merchant's Guild, Justin and Ikan's employers; that meant no caravans. And that meant that the paired mercenary guards were cosily holed up in their private quarters at the Broken Sword, with the winter months to while away. They certainly weren't stinting themselves; they had a pair of very decent rooms, the Broken Sword's excellent ale -- and, as Tarma discovered when she tapped at their door, no lack of female companionship. But the current pair of bright-eyed lovelies was sent pouting away when straw-haired Ikan answered their knock and discovered just who it was chat had chosen to descend upon himself and his partner -- One of the innkeeper's quick-footed offspring was summoned then, and sent off for food and ale -- for neither Justin nor his shieldbrother would hear a word of serious talk until everyone was settled and comfortable at their hearth, meat and drink at their elbows. Justin and Ikan took their hospitality very seriously.
'I've figured this was coming,' Justin had said, somewhat to Tarma's shock, 'And not just because of that idiot songster. You two have very unique and specialized skills -- not like me and Ikan. You've gotten about as far as you can as an independent pairing. Now me and Ikan, we had the opposite problem. We're just ordinary fighting types; a bit better than most, but that's all that distinguishes us. We had to join a company to get a reputation; then we could live off that reputation as a pair. But you -- you've got a reputation that will get you high fees from the right mercenary company.'
Tarma had shaken her head doubtfully at that, but Justin had fixed her with his mournful houndlike eyes, and she'd held her peace.
'You, Tarma,' he'd continued, 'need much wider experience, especially experience in commanding others -- and only a company will give you that. Kethry, you need to exercise skills and spells you wouldn't use in a partnership, and to leam how to delegate if your school is ever going to be successful, and again, you'll learn that in a company.'
'Long speech,' Tarma had commented sardonically.
'Well, I've got one, too,' Ikan had said, winking a guileless blue eye at her. 'You also need exposure to highborns, so that they know your reputation isn't just minstrelsy and moonshine. You haven't a choice; you truly need to join a company, one with a reputation of their own, one good enough that the highborns come to them for their contract. Then, once you are ready to hang up your blades and start your schools, you'll have noble patrons and noble pupils panting in anticipation of your teaching -- and two not-so-noble aging fighters panting in anticipation of easy teaching jobs.'
Kethry had laughed at Ikan's comic half-bow in their direction. 'I take it that you already have a company in mind?'
'Idra's Sunhawks,' Justin had replied blandly.
