The Robin And The Kestrel

So when he asked her again for a love song, this time she played one of her own, made for Jonny, and put her whole heart into it.

'I think,' the Ghost said, tilting his cowl up towards the eastern sky, 'that it is not long until dawn.'

Gwyna shook soreness out of her weary arms; this had taken a lot more energy than she had ever suspected, and if she felt this way with Kestrel and talk to spell her, how had poor Rune ever survived her night of playing?

'I did not lend my strength to you as I did to the fiddler girl,' the Ghost said, matter-of-factly, as if he had just read her mind. Perhaps he had; she would not place anything beyond him at this point, and she was very glad that they had both chosen to tell him only the strict and complete truth when he had asked his questions about the outside world. His interrogation had been fascinating to experience; things he had wanted to know, he wanted to know in depth, and things she had assumed he would be curious about, he cared nothing for.

But those things he wished to know_his questioning left her feeling like a rag that had been used to soak up something, then wrung dry. He not only extracted information from her, but as the night went on, he became more and more adept at extracting her feelings about something from her. She was not certain of his motives. It might only be that he had wished to feel things, if only vicariously. It might be he extracted some nourishment from emotions, which might also explain why he killed through terror. It might also be that for some reason he needed to understand if she felt strongly about something, and why.

'You did not need that strength,' he continued. 'There were two of you, and you did not play continuously. So. Dawn approaches. Your bargain is complete. You have given as you pledged, and fully. I shall pledge likewise. From this moment, all Gypsies and Free Bards that are not sent from Carthell Abbey may pass this way freely.' He cocked his head a little sideways. 'I may appear, and request a song_but it shall be a request.'

Kestrel blew on his fingers to cool them, and echoed the Ghost's head-pose. 'I th-think s-such a req-q-quest would b-be honored,' he said dryly.

There was a whispered chuckle from the Ghost. 'You need not give them identifying marks,' the spirit continued_which was something that had been in Gwyna's mind. 'Such things can be stolen or counterfeited. I shall know them from their thoughts.'

She didn't bother to hide her start of surprise. So he could read thoughts!

'On occasion,' he whispered, and there was a hint of humor in his voice. And perhaps, a touch of smugness. 'You have been generous in your bargain. I shall be as generous. Spend the morn in safety here, if you wish, or go on. Nothing shall molest you or disturb you while you sleep. My choice of manifestation is my own, for their compulsions were limited in nature_and if I choose to expend myself, the daylight need not hinder my powers _'

And with that final astonishing pronouncement, he disappeared_just as the first light of the dawn-red sun touched the precise spot on which he had been standing just the moment before.

The sunlight glinted on something metallic.

It was Kestrel who climbed down from the tail of the wagon, placed his harp carefully on the floor of the wagon, and walked stiffly across the sun-gilded weeds to the spot that shone with such bright and promising glints.

'Well,' he said, carefully, looking down at the small mound. 'It's s-s-silver. J-just l-like R-R-Rune's.'

She let out the breath she had been holding, and rubbed her tired eyes. 'He said he was going to be generous.'

Kestrel tilted his head to one side, and dropped down to sit on his heels beside the pile of coins. 'S-so l-let's s-see how g-g-generous, shall w-we?'

She yawned hugely, and blinked at the morning sun. 'I can't think of any better way to relax before a good long sleep. Can you?'

He shook his head, and stole a kiss from her as soon as she joined him. Then the two of them knelt down beside the pile of coins that the Ghost had left as their personal reward. They counted with one hand each; their other two hands were clasped together lovingly.