The Eagle And The Nightingales

what he was.

Well, to that end, he had delved into Harperus' store of memory-crystals and come up with several songs about King Theovere. Most of them weren't very good, which didn't exactly come as a shock, since they had been composed by Guild Bards_but there were germs of good ideas in there, and decent, if not stellar, melodies. I could improve the lyrics; even Nob could improve on some of those lyrics. He could sing those, and literally remind the King of what he had been.

And there were other songs he had picked up himself on the way, songs that actually had some relevance to one of the situations the King had sloughed off into the Seneschal's hands.

I can certainly sing those songs that Raven and the rest wrote about Duke Arden of Kingsford_how he saved all those people during the fire, how he's beggaring himself to rebuild his city. That should get his attention where reports won't!

And if T'fyrr got his attention, he just might be moved to do something about the situation.

If I put a situation in front of him in music_ah, yes, that is a good idea.

And who better to suggest such situations than the man who would otherwise have to take care of them_Lord Seneschal Acreon? Oh, now there was an idea calculated to make the Seneschal happier!

He'll help. This is exactly the kind of help that he has been looking for_I would willingly bet on it. The only problem is that if anyone besides Acreon figures out what I'm doing, they'll know I'm not just a blank-brained musician; they'll know I'm getting involved, and I might be dangerous. Which will make me even more of a target than I was already.

Well, that couldn't be helped. He had made a promise and a commitment, and it was time to see them through. Now I have a plan. Now I have a real means to do what Harperus wants me to. And I have a chance to redeem myself in the process, to counter the evil I have already done.

Suddenly the tension in his back and wing muscles relaxed, as it always did when he had worried through a problem and found at least the beginnings of a solution.

That was all he needed to be able to sleep; in the next instant, all the fatigue that he'd been holding off unconsciously descended on him.

Ah... I didn't realize I was so... tired.

He was already in the most comfortable nest he'd had in ages, and in the most comfortable sleeping position he'd had since he'd begun traveling with Harperus.

This nest is very good... very, very good. I don't think I want to move.

It was just as well that he was settled in, for as soon as he stopped fighting off sleep, it stooped down out of the darkness upon him, and carried him away_to dreams of falling, iron manacles and screams.

Midnight. You'd think the city would be quiet.

It wasn't though; the rumble of cartwheels on cobblestones persisted right up until dawn, and a deeper rumble of the machineries turned by the swiftly moving river water permeated even ones bones.

Nightingale perched like her namesake on the roof of Freehold, staring out into the darkness at the lights across the street. No Deliambren lights, these_though they were clever enough; she'd noticed them earlier this evening, just outside the building, where two of them stood like sentinels on either side of the door. Some kind of special air_a gas_was what these lights burned. One of her customers had told her that. It was piped into them from somewhere else, and burned with a flame much brighter than candles, without the flicker of a candle.

With lights like that, you wouldn't have to wait for daylight to do your work....

No, you could work all night. Or, better still, you could have someone else work all night for you.

There were similar lights burning inside that huge building, but not as many as the owner would like. He would have been happier if the whole place was lit up as brightly as full day. Only a few folk worked inside that building at night, those who cleaned the place and serviced the machines.

Nightingale leaned on the brick of the low wall around the roof, rested her chin on her hands, and brooded over those lovely, clear, cursed lights and all they meant.

She had learned more in her brief time here than she had ever anticipated, and most of it was completely unexpected.