The Robin And The Kestrel

'And they f-f-find?' Jonny asked, boldly.

'Rocks. And, sometimes, me.' Again the chuckle, but this time it chilled and had no humor in it. Once again, she sensed the power coiled serpentlike behind him, a power that quickened to anger at very little provocation. So before he had time to be angered at the song, at them, she spoke.

'Sir, we came to ask a bargain of our own. Not gold or silver or even gems _'

She was the entire focus of the Ghost's gaze now; the antithesis of the tropical sun, it fell upon her and froze her in a silence of centuries. Or tried. It was at that moment the Ghost must have realized she was not caught in his web of terror, for the spirit straightened a little in what looked very like surprise. 'What_bargain?' it said at last.

'We will tell you anything you care to ask, in as much detail as you wish, if we know the answers,' she said, faintly, from beneath the weight of that gaze. 'We will sing and play for you until dawn, as Rune did. Information and entertainment, and in return _'

The frigid pressure of his regard deepened. 'In return_what? Besides your lives, of course. You have not_yet_earned those.'

She tried to answer, and could not. For a moment she struggled in panic, knowing that if she did not answer, he could and would use that as the only 'excuse' he needed to take her, Kestrel_

'F-free p-passage f-for G-G-G-Gypsies and F-F-Free B-B-B-Bards,' Kestrel stammered, forcing the words out for her, fighting his stutter as she fought the Ghost's compulsion. The Ghost's cowl moved marginally as his gaze transferred to Kestrel and the pressure holding her snapped.

'Exactly,' she said, quickly, into the ominous silence. 'Free and unmolested passage across your Pass at any time of the day or night for Gypsies and Free Bards. Including us, of course. That's all.' She remembered now something else that Rune had said_that the Ghost had heard her tale of being harassed and plagued, and then had said that he and she might have more in common than she guessed. 'We're something less than popular with the Church right now,' she added, and had the reward of seeing the cowl snap back to point at her. 'And with the Bardic Guild. We sing a little too much of the truth, and we don't hide what we know for the sake of convenience. We might need _'

'An escape route?' the Ghost hissed, and nodded. 'Yes. I can see that.'

He stood wrapped in weighty, chilling silence for a long time. She studied him, trying to determine what his race was_or had been. He matched nothing she had ever seen or heard of. Too tall for a Deliambren, a Gazner, or a Prilchard. No place under that robe for the wings of a Haspur_

'I am_astonished,' the Ghost whispered at last. 'To dare me and my power simply to assure your friends of an escape route in case of danger_to dare me!' He did not breathe, but he paused for as long as it would take someone to take a deep breath. 'Yes. I will make that bargain. With a single exception.'

Exceptions? Why would he have to have exceptions? Her eyes narrowed with speculation and suspicion.

The Ghost returned her gaze, but this time without the pressure of his magic behind it. 'I must have the exception,' he said, simply. 'I am_bound to a task, as I am bound to this place.'

Now she sensed the full scope of the terrible power of his anger; once, long ago, she had been in the presence of a dreadful weapon of what the Deliambrens called interstellar warfare. This interstellar thing was something they could not explain to her, but she had sensed, nevertheless, the shattering potential for destruction encased within the metal pod-skin of the object they showed her. The Ghost's anger felt like that; like the moment before the storm is about to break, when the earthquake is about to strike, when some force too large for a mere human to comprehend is about to be unleashed.

And yet, it was not directed at her.

No_no, his anger is for those who have bound him here. May their gods help them if he ever does get free!

'If your Gypsies and Free Bards are not sent here from Carthell Abbey, they may pass,' he continued, in his ice-rimed whisper. 'But if they are sent, I have no choice. I_am bound to slay anyone who is sent from the Abbey. Any other, I shall let pass, freely. This is the bargain; take it, or not. Fear not for yourselves; I shall let you pass without your music if you choose not to take it.'

She looked at Kestrel out of the corner of her eye; he nodded slightly. It was the best they were likely to get; the Ghost was giving a pledge within the limits of his ability to fulfill it. Kestrel sensed that as well as she did.

'Done,' she said. 'I won't hold you to something you can't promise.'

The Ghost nodded, ever so slightly, but the atmosphere suddenly warmed considerably, physically as well as emotionally. Although he did not 'sit,' she felt a relaxation about him, and the chill breeze that had swept through the clearing vanished, to be replaced by a breeze as comfortable as any of early fall, with a hint in it of false summer.