“Thank you,” Cricket said finally, her voice barely a whisper.
“No, thank you,” said Edric. “It has been too long since I have sung that song. And it is good to have another share it.”
“Even a half-elf?” Cricket said, somewhat rueful.
Edric reached out and placed his hand on her knee. She allowed the contact, for she knew it meant merely friendship. “The same elven blood flows through both our veins, my dear.”
“Only yours is pure, while mine is mixed.”
“Perhaps, but yours is no less red than mine,” said Edric with a smile, giving her knee a reassuring pat before removing his hand. “And in a place like this, what do bloodlines matter?”
“In a place like this, perhaps they don’t,” Cricket replied with a shrug of resignation. “But there are places where they do matter very much.”
“Was it your father who was human, or your mother?” Edric asked.
“My father.”
“Ah, so your mother was tribal, then.”
“Yes, how did you know?”
“It took no great powers of deduction,” Edric said. “In cities, elves are less clannish, and those of mixed blood are not uncommon, whereas in desert-dwelling tribes, such things are not easily accepted.”
“No,” she said, softly, “they are not.”
“And do your parents still live?”
“My mother died five years ago, old before her time from laboring as a scullery maid in a tavern owned by humans. I never knew my father.”
Edric nodded. “Regrettably, such things are not uncommon these days, either.”
“Were you ever tribal?”
“Once, many years ago, but that was in another lifetime,” he replied.
“Why did you leave?”
He shrugged. “I fell in love.”
“Ah.” She smiled. “With an elf girl from the city? A half-elf woman, perhaps?”
“Worse than that, I fear,” he said, smiling. “With a human man.”
“Oh,” said Cricket, with surprise. And then she chuckled.
Edric raised his eyebrows. “That amuses you?”
“No, forgive me,” she said. “You misunderstand. That was not the reason I laughed.”
“Then, pray, enlighten me.”
“It’s only that Rikka will be crushed,” said Cricket. “She has had her eye on you, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Rikka is the tall one, with the dark hair and the large…?” Edric pantomimed the features.
“That’s Rikka,” Cricket said with a grin. “She thought you were avoiding her because she is Turin’s favorite.”
“Ah. Well… that was not the only reason.”
Cricket giggled. “So what happened with your human man?”
“He was not similarly disposed, I fear,” said Edric. “Last I heard, he married a tavernkeeper’s daughter. It was a tragic case of unrequited love. I was very young and foolish in those days, and given to grand and hopeless passions. Such are the things that make a bard. What of you? Has there never been a grand passion in your life? I can’t believe there have not been ample opportunities.”
“Not the sort of opportunities I sought,” she said. “I am still waiting.”
Edric looked surprised. “Do you mean to say you’ve never…?”
Cricket shook her head. “No. Never.”
“Well, I would not have guessed,” he said. “From the sultry way you dance, I would have thought you were well versed in the arts of love.”
“That is what most men would assume,” Cricket replied wryly. “But it takes no great skill for a girl to be seductive, especially if she is pretty. One merely learns from watching the way men react.”
“Hmmm. Do the others know?” asked Edric.
“That I am a virgin?” Cricket shook her head. “I think they would be even more surprised than you. They think I’m merely stuck up. At first, they thought perhaps I might prefer women, but they soon discovered I was not so disposed, to borrow your rather diplomatic phrase.”
“Why do you stay here? You could make a great deal more by dancing in a city, or even in a larger town. Why here, in a small dwarven village on a distant caravan route?”
“It was where fortune took me,” she replied. “But it is not where I intend to stay.”
“Oh? You have plans, then?”
“I have been saving my money ever since I started here,” said Cricket. “Or as much as I could, save, after I had paid for food and clothes and lodging. Prices are inflated here, and when you’re known as one of Turin’s dancers, the price always goes up. Still, I almost have enough put aside to purchase first-class passage in a caravan. After tonight, with any luck, I should have more than I need.”
“And then?”
“And then I will be quit of this pestilential hole,” she said, with an intensity that surprised the bard. “I have already made inquiries. In two days time, the caravan departs for Altaruk, and I’ll go with it.” As if suddenly realizing she might have said too much, she glanced at Edric sharply and added, “I trust I can depend on your discretion. Turin would try to keep me here if he knew my plans.”
“You may depend upon my silence,” Edric said.
“I am willing to pay for it,” said Cricket cautiously.
Edric looked offended. “My dear girl,” he said, in an affronted tone, “do you truly think that I would sell you out?”
“There are those who would, if they were in your place,” she replied.
“Then they have no honor,” Edric said. “As it happens, I have already booked passage with the caravan, myself. Not first class, I fear, since I shall be singing for my supper, but I was going to say that I was looking forward to your company upon the journey. Now, I think perhaps you might scorn it.”
Cricket sighed and looked down with a rueful grimace. “Never,” she replied. “Forgive me, Edric. I did not mean to insult you. It is just that I do not trust easily. I am not used to having friends.”
“There is an old elven proverb,” Edric said with a smile. “It is better to have a score of friends than a score of coppers. Then you can ask each friend for a loan of two coppers, and you be well ahead.”
Cricket chuckled. “I like you, Edric. You make me laugh. And I do not laugh very often these days.”
“Well, we
