The Robin And The Kestrel

involved in horse theft; not here, and not now. They had tied the Clans fortunes to High Bishop Padrik and his schemes_for just as the Patsonos got their share of the donations resulting from Padrik's 'miracles,' the High Bishop was taking his share of their income from the House.

And they were completely content with all of this. It apparently had never once occurred to any of them that Padrik and his Priests were observant and clever, and that once they figured out how to reproduce the 'miracles'_or managed to find a mage they could coerce into doing the same_they would no longer need the Patsonos. With all the illegal activities the Clan had gotten involved with, it would be child's play to be rid of them.

No one would ever believe that the saintly High Bishop was involved with running a House_and it was doubtful that anyone had anything likely to prove the case. That assumed that the Patsonos would ever make it to a trial, of course....

And with the example of this Gypsy Clan to inspire them, how long would it be before the High Bishop persuaded the King himself to legislate against Gypsies and Free Bards?

'Hey!' someone said suddenly, breaking into her reverie.

And even as she turned away from the table, wine bottle forgotten in her hand, one of the men behind her grabbed her wrist and wrenched her around. 'What're you doin'?' he demanded. 'You been listening! Who are you?'

'Reba,' she said, quickly forcing an expression of vacant stupidity on her face. 'Reba, Chief. Gray Tombere, he said come pour wine. Rosa, she say it's warm inside. So I come pour wine. Hey?'

The man examined her for a moment, closely. 'Don't I know you from somewhere?'

She shrugged, tasting the sour bile of fear but trying to keep any expression at all from showing. Hadn't she heard of a Patsono that was hung for horse theft when she was a child? Could she remember his name? She made a quick, desperate guess. 'Born on road, outside Kingsford. Mam's Clan don' like me, much. Pappy was Long Robere _'

'Ah, she must be that brat Long Robere got on the Ladras woman before they hung him,' one of the others exclaimed, and laughed. 'That's why you think you know her, old man_she's got that look of his.'

As Robin nodded vigorously, the man pulled her a little closer, peered into her face as he exhaled wine fumes into her nose, then let go of her, nodding with grudging satisfaction. Of course, this was probably a fellow who did everything grudgingly....

Robin breathed a small sigh of relief as he motioned to her to refill his goblet. 'Yah, that's it, girl. You got your pappy's look about you. Long Robere allus was better looking than he was smart.'

'Yah, well I heard that he didn't get his name from bein' tall,' guffawed another of the men, and as the off-color jokes and comments followed swiftly, Robin turned to get another bottle of wine, too limp with relief to even think straight.

As she turned back to the table, though, the Chief looked directly at her. 'You, Reba girl _' he said. 'You just get here tonight?'

She didn't know what else to do besides nod. Presumably the Patsonos had put it about that their Clan was mustering here. She had better pretend that she answered that call.

'Then you don't know the rules. No hobnobbing with the rootfeet for girls, 'specially not with the Priests. You get your tail down the hall to the girls' room when we're done here,' he said sternly. 'No Patsono wench runs around loose where gajin can find her. Some of these Priests think our women are here for them. You get yourself a bed where it's safe_you, Rosa, you show her where, show her where the clothes is, that kinda thing.'

Rosa nodded, and Robin's heart sank. But there was no help for it. Until she could get away, she was a Patsono.

Kestrel would be frantic.

And he'd say, 'I told you so.'

The meeting broke up shortly after that, and Rosa took her firmly by the elbow and led her down a long hallway to a huge room, lit by a bare four lanterns, and filled with cots. Most of them held young women and girls just past puberty; obviously this was a dormitory. The windows were small; too small to climb through.

'Chief wasn't joking,' Rosa told her in a whisper, not unkindly. 'These Priests, they seem to think we're just like the girls in their own special House. You just got what's on your back?'

At Robin's nod, she made a tsking sound. 'Not the first time other Clan's have turned Patsono get out on the road with nothing,' Rosa said. 'Well, no matter. There's clothes in the closet there we all share; ugly, but nice make. Servants here take away dirty ones, we never have t'do no wash. You gotta take a bath every three days, though, that's a rule.'