The Eagle And The Nightingales

'How, failed?' she asked in a small voice.

He correctly interpreted her frozen expression. 'Nothing serious_no one died, for Hadron's sake! They were just found out, somehow, and they were discredited in ways that forced them to leave the city. We think we failed by choosing someone too high in rank. You know how to extract information of all kinds_Harperus says that you have the ability to sieve gold out of the gutters. That is why you.' He scratched his head, then added, 'Besides, the roads north and south of here are closed. North the bridge is out, and south Sire Yori has put up a roadblock and he's taking all beasts of burden as 'army-taxes.' You could only go on to the King's Highway or retrace your steps.'

Nightingale flushed, and mentally levied a few choice Gypsy curses on the Deliambren for choosing the precise words guaranteed to make her go on. Gypsy lore held that to retrace one's steps was to unmake part of one's life_and you had better be very sure that was something you wanted and needed to do before you tried it.

Leverance blinked benignly at her as she muttered imprecations, just as if he didn't know the implications of his words. 'Well,' he asked. 'Can you go? Will you help?'

Signs and portents, omens and forebodings. I do not want to go, but it seems I have no choice.

But she was not going to tell him that. For one thing, if they had sent others on this path, others who had been found out, that argued for someone knowing in advance that they had been sent. She trusted those Deliambrens that she personally knew, but within very strict limits_just as she trusted, within limits, those Elves she knew. But there were Gypsies that she would not trust, so why should every Elf, every Deliambren, or even every Free Bard be entirely trustworthy?

Talaysen probably didn't know about the others. The Elves might not have thought it worth stooping to ask help of mere mortals until now. Only the Deliambrens know the whole of this; but if there was someone acting as an informant against their agents, there is no reason why it could not have been an Elf, a Deliambren, or even one of us. Everyone has a price; it is only that most honest folk have prices that could never be met.

'I will think about it,' she temporized, giving him the same answer she had given Master Wren. 'My road goes in that direction; I cannot promise that I will end up there.'

If there is an informant, damned if I will give you the assurance that I will be the next one to play victim! It is too easy for a lone woman, Gypsy or no, to simply disappear.

She smiled sweetly and ate a bite of tasteless roll, as if she had not a care in the world. 'I am alone and afoot, and who knows what could happen between here and there? I make no promises I cannot keep.'

Leverance made a sour face. 'You'll think about it, though?' he persisted. 'At least keep the option open?'

She frowned; she really did not want to give him even that much, but_she had a certain debt to his people. 'Did I not say that I would?'

Leverance only shrugged. 'You hedge your promises as carefully as if you were dealing with Elves,' he told her sourly, as she packed up the rest of the uneaten lunch in a napkin to take with her. 'Don't you know by now that you can trust us?'

The suns heat faded again, although no clouds passed before it, and she took in a sharp breath as she steadied herself, looking down at the rough wood of the table, grey and lifeless, unlike the silver of her bracelet.

Trust them. He wants me to trust them, the Elves want me to trust them, and Talaysen, damn his eyes, trusts me. There is too much asking and giving of trust in this.

Her right hand clenched on the knot of the napkin; her left made a sign against ill-wishing, hidden in her lap.

'I only pay heed to what my own eyes and ears tell me,' she said lightly, forcing herself to ignore her chill. 'You should know that by now, since it is probably one of the other reasons why you picked me. Thank you for the meal.'

She rose from the bench and untied her donkey from the handrail beside the road without a backward glance for him.

'Are you sure you won't_' Leverance began plaintively.

Now she leveled a severe look at him, one that even he could read. 'I gave you what I could promise, Deliambren. A nightingale cannot sing in a cage, or tethered by a foot to a perch. You would do well to remember that.'

And with that, she led her donkey back out into the road. It was, after all, a long way to Lyonarie, and the road wasn't growing any shorter while she sat.