by Power, P. S.
Not that the young man helping with the Judge and Guardians' work would get him tossed off. Normally that would have gone to the First Mate, but he was temporarily down. That they were sending the Apprentice wasn't as a treat either, but a sign that Captain Mina didn't know who she could really trust anymore. After the last days, Pran couldn't blame her for that either.
Several of her crew had turned out to be infiltrators from a technological movement, or cult. It was hard to be sure which, but what were the odds that it was only the one ship? No, this movement was no doubt huge. It wasn't a good thing.
Not that Pran hated tech. She actually enjoyed working with lights and electricity, since it was a bit like creating magic and part of a Bard's job. They had to get permits for it, to make certain they weren't harming the world by making too much. It was part of what Mara had been talking about, with the inventory, in fact. It was when the town would be searched for things like that, normally. It wasn't house to house, and people might have their own secret stash of things, but it was hard to hide the really dangerous stuff. Large industries and whatnot.
Pran gently patted Roy on the arm, not letting her hand linger, but also not being gruff about it. After all, they were sharing a room, and most people were kind of just acting like that meant they were doing things together anyway, weren't they? She hadn't been, but Pran hadn't been running around telling everyone that she wasn't either, and neither had her roommate. She was a Bard after all, and even if she wanted to be chaste and celibate, the others would tease the boy if he was known to be that close to her and not managing the task. For his part however, he'd been very gentlemanly so far. Polite, and not peeking at her overly when she was changing clothes, or anything.
"Let's get those men back then." Since no one called out to them, even to tell them to hurry and not dawdle in the village, it seemed like they were doing what was expected. Not that the little hole had anything worth lingering over. That was a mean thing for her to be thinking, but it was true, after a fashion.
The place was a mud pit, at least this time of year, and no one living there seemed to have thought anything of it at all. Then, they were distracted, so that could be it, really. They were in a forest though, a patch of evergreens that made the place a lot less desolate than it could have been. The rain was just starting again as they stepped out, which meant running back to get some slicks for everyone. They were just pieces of oiled cloth, but they worked to keep the worst of the water off of them and the men in the back didn't complain about the humble nature of the things.
Pran didn't get one, since she was moving the whole time and it wouldn't have stayed on. The rifle would have to be dried when she got back too, or it could rust or something. No one had ever mentioned that being the case, but it made sense, didn't it? The barrel was a thick and sturdy iron thing, and while it was well oiled as well, too much water might get into the workings and it had served her too well so far to neglect.
She circled the wagon, trying to actually be aware the whole time. It slowed them down, which meant the trip back was as slow as the one out, and that she probably covered three times what the others did. That was the job though. The task that she'd been set.
It wasn't until they were in the center of the little village that she stopped, the rain pelting her hard enough to actually be uncomfortable against her face, like stinging needles, instead of mere rain drops. It wasn't cold enough for snow, yet, but as early as it was in the year it still seemed like they were being promised something in the way of extreme weather. Being out in it made everything seem more intense than watching it from inside a warm dormitory.
Pran looked at the oldest man, and then at his wound, which seemed not to be bleeding too much. The man caught her looking and then shook his head at her. It was rueful, rather than being accusing.
"Walked into that one, didn't I? They said your name was Bard?" He didn't seem to think that too strange, as if it were a normal girl's name, which it wasn't. Then she got it and rubbed her nearly bald head. There was no more than a bit of dark fuzz there after all. He thought she was a boy, she bet.
"Bard Pran. As in Apprentice Bard."
The man smiled.
"Ah, sorry then boy, I thought you might be a young Guardian given the black and vanishing tricks. Taking Bards young then, this year?" He was just being conversational, and Pran didn't really feel like correcting him. After all, it would probably make him feel bad, having been calling her a boy, and that didn't serve her at all, in the moment.
"I'm on my way to my first Apprentice post. So that's pretty close to being true." She smiled, letting her cheeks dimple a bit, as Roy spoke, not sounding amused at all. Or upset about her being called a boy, which probably spoke as to what she currently looked like, didn't it? Her own friend just assumed that she was pretending to be a boy or something? That said a lot about what he thought about her, didn't it? That she lied so often he didn't bother to correct anything, in case she had a plan?
The young man sat with the leather reigns in his hands, and smiled lazily.
"Pran is going to be the High Councilor's new Apprentice. That's pretty much the top position for a Bard her age. You should have her and Bard Benjamin in to play while they're here. I hear tell that they're open to trade in goods, wood and gut, maybe glue, if you have any? You live in a well provided area, wood wise." He glanced over at the green, but the old injured man snorted.
"Pine. I can trade some hard apple plank too, for say, ten songs? Some news? That's for all that want to attend, not just me. I don't know if any have gut, but I'll put word around, if you're willing?" His eyes looked at her, and were a nice gray color. A bit watery, but then, he was standing in the rain. Hers probably were too.
"I can guarantee myself. Perhaps tomorrow evening? Right now Roy and I need to find the head person here, I have a message to pass?"
That got the younger man that had attacked them , the one with the horrible mustache, to point helpfully at the man they were talking to.
"Sam Oldman is our headman here. Has been for near on, what is it Sam? Twenty-years? Before I was born at least." Since the fellow didn't seem much older than Roy, that made sense.
The older man tried to grunt, then stopped doubling over a bit.
"That hurts a bit. I'm Sam. Milner, not 'Oldman'. The callow youth around here just lack manners. Is this a secret message? Perhaps a warning for us to run, lest we end in the camps, breaking rocks for what we done?"
Pran shrugged.
"What did you do? Stepped out at the wrong time? Forgot to mention you were coming to help? I don't think our Judge has a problem with that. Our Guardians just want to do a food and energy inventory?" She nearly added that she didn't know what that was, but the Headman smiled, as if the idea made him happy.
"Ah! Good. We're set, but it never hurts to have them peek in. At times they free up stores, which makes the winter easier for all. I won't be telling them no, if they want to look around a bit. I'll have that plank, apple and pine, ready for you, and ask about the other things then. Do you know the name of the Guardian? That big fellow that you were with?" The other men all stood there, including the one that she'd grazed in the leg, who had a white piece of cloth tied around it. The slug had been removed, but neither had gotten stitches for their wounds. No pain killers either, which Pran sort of figured was Doctor Millis's way of telling them they'd messed up.
She shook her head, but managed to smile.
"No. Guardian Mara and I will be here for that. You'll like her. She's got a good sense of humor. Guardian Clark will make certain that Will Butcher doesn't go anywhere. Or, you understand, end up harmed before the trial. They take that seriously." She wasn't trying to rub it in, but her eyes went hard, and she glared a tiny bit, anyway.
Enough that Oldman shied away a few steps.
"I... understand."
Which they all probably did. Anger had driven them to do what they had, not guilt or even fear. It would fade in time, for most of the
m. Probably not the parents. At least that was always in the stories about things like that. The mother and father would probably hold their anger about it longer than the child would. She hadn't been around enough of that sort to know if it was true or not. Parents were a mystery to her. Real ones at least. She knew the stories about them well enough.
Roy saved her from seeming like a complete bully then, smiling suddenly.
"You're in for a real treat then. Both Bards are young and fresh, but still skilled. We might have some things to trade as well. The ship I mean, if anyone wants to bring some things to compare and haggle over? If you have a hall, we can set up there?"
Sam the Oldman nodded and winced, a single finger coming out to point at a small building that seemed like it might be a large and drafty barn.
"It isn't much, but the roof's mainly sound, last I checked. Benches and a few tables to lay things on?"
That seemed to be a good enough set-up, and Roy leaned over to shake with the man, only to pull back before the fellow had to try and reach.
"Or we can do that later, when it won't be so painful?"
That got a laugh, and Pran sighed, feeling bad about the wound now. The man seemed nice enough, so far. Oh, he'd probably set the whole town on them later, but if not, then she probably could have handled the whole thing earlier with some yelling and bluster. Shooting them, even with her tiny and not that dangerous weapon had been too much it seemed.
She pointed a bit, "sorry about that. I should have-"
The other man that had been shot just looked at his leg and shook his head slowly.
"Don't let it worry at you, boy. What if we'd been what we intended, and a real threat? You'd been given a job and an honorable one, for a person so young. A Bard too? That's hard to credit. I'll be coming to see you perform, if the rain breaks, just to see that you aren't having us on." It didn't sound all that mean or angry, and since she'd shot him, he had right to it.
It took a few seconds to get Roy going, since he had to turn around by circling a building and the mud was deep enough that the boy attacker ran to point out the best place to do it. Pran moved along with them, trying to move like the Guardians did the whole time, her mind aware of what was going on around her, instead of trying to map out her next day's performance.
When the young man waved at them, they went back the way they came, the road improving a lot as soon as they got out of the high traffic area.
Roy didn't speak until they were almost all the way back, and when he did, his voice was pitched not to carry too much.
"So, wood for your instruments. I'd say you owe me, wouldn't you?"
She was instantly cautious. Yes, she was willing to trade her body for the wood, since she needed it, and protecting her virtue too closely wouldn't help her now really, since she'd been minutes away from a life of prostitution at one point already, and Roy knew that. It would be hard to claim she was too good for him that way. Insulting to him, given everything. It wasn't true for one thing. The fact was, she just didn't know what to do that way overly. She could lay there and grunt while he finished his pleasure, but that was about all she knew to do.
"If it's enough wood, then yes." She kept moving and he didn't speak for long enough that it felt like he might be working his nerve up to suggest something more intense than a few minutes in her bunk after lights out.
When he spoke though, she nearly laughed.
"Well, I have wash duty this week. Now, I'm not claiming that me speaking up is worth you doing it all in trade, and it's only the Captain's and the Mates, first and second, but if you'd help with it, that would be a fair trade I think? Or, well, probably not really, since I already owe you a load of wash, but-"
When she glanced at him he was a bit red in the cheek, which hardly seemed like he should be at all.
Not stopping, Pran scanned the woods on either side of the road. They were moving a lot faster now, not having injured people in the wagon. The tan mare whinnied and flicked her tail, like there was something there to bother her. It was only the wind though.
"Can we do it when we're in the air?" It really was a lot easier then, since they had a dedicated room for it.
"Of course we can. Captain Mina insists on it. So, you'll help?" He sounded hopeful.
Pran smiled and kept moving, not saying anything until they were almost up to The Lament, which was starting to sway a bit, which got Roy to stare at it.
The young man rubbed at his damp cheek.
"Crud. I bet there's a storm coming. I hate that. This is turning cold too."
"I noticed that. I'll help." She winked at him and then sighed. "Since I thought you were going to ask for sex, it seems a pretty fair trade. A little laundry isn't that big of a deal."
Roy, who blushed over asking for help with his assignment, just chuckled at her.
"Oh, I wouldn't trade for that. I'm actually decent enough at it that I don't have to. The only reason that I haven't asked if you wanted to already, is that you've been too exhausted all the time. Well, that and the fact that apparently you're a boy. That's really not my thing you know." He pointed to the oiled cloths, and when she took them from the back, all except the one he had wrapped around himself, which had probably kept him a lot warmer and drier than she was at the moment, he pulled the wagon around toward the back of the craft, where it was stored.
The horses actually lived on board all the time too. It was a lot different than she would have thought that way.
What the man had said stuck with her as she went in to see to her tasks. She'd actually heard that he wasn't that bad in bed, from the same woman that had tried to blind the Judges in order to escape. Actually, the woman, evil or not, had sort of recommended Roy to her for that purpose. It was kind of interesting, in a way. The only reason that she was being as shy with him as she was had to do with...
Really, things from her past that she didn't want to bother with at the moment. The Grange didn't exist for her now. She'd survived it and gotten away, into a better life, and she wasn't going to let that place ruin it for her.
To cover the mental lapse she jogged inside and stripped, then used a dry towel to get at the weapon, just sitting there, shivering a bit as she worked. It was like that, sitting there naked, that Bard Ben found her, knocking on her door gently.
"Are you awake for the day yet Bard Pran?" He had a good tenor voice. She was nearly his equal in playing, but he was still getting better in a lot of ways, and it would be foolish not to notice that about him.
"I've been awake and into Pumpkin Hollow twice so far today. I'd let you in, but I'm sitting here naked. I don't have anything dry to wear." She hadn't gotten anything from the storage locker after all, so sighed and started pulling the cold, damp and now rather darker black material on again.
The voice at the door spoke as if all of that was somewhat normal, instead of every single part of it being strange.
"That sounds industrious. I was thinking of walking in later and seeing if I could set up an engagement. These small towns never have coin this time of year, but it's worth it, just for the good will of the thing. Would you be interested in joining me?" He said it that way, because technically she didn't have to. He wasn't her Master after all.
If she were a fool and lazy, she might have even have stood on that fact. She wasn't though. She smiled as the cold shirt hit her small breasts, making her nipples tighten. Not caring overly, knowing that the heavy material would hide most of it, she opened the door.
"I'd love to. Apprentice Roy already set that up for us. Ten songs and some news, for some wood plank and possibly some other things. Gut and glue. That might not happen, but their headman said he'd ask around for it. Eventually I need my own instruments. I can make them, but no coin." She'd never had any really, so it wasn't something new to her. Apprentices and students just didn't. Neither did orphans. At least not the ones at the Grange.
Bard Benjamin clapped as the door opened, then let his hand go to his chest and sighed dramat
ically. He was cute, and knew it. He was also, she remembered, the only boy that she'd ever kissed. Well, he'd kissed her, mistaking her for someone else in a dark hallway, but it had been him anyway.
In a way it was one of her nicest memories.
"I'm almost sorry I lost you as an Apprentice, you know that, Pran? If it wasn't for the fact that I'd be constantly overshadowed by your talents, and you're getting a position that you actually deserve, I would have begged for you to stay. That sounds like a decent deal even, given how small this place is. What kind of hall do they have?" He sat on the edge of Roy's cot, then reached across the small space and touched her leg. It wasn't flirty, just a test for wetness, she thought.
Pran wondered how to best introduce the idea, but then just let her shoulders come up, trying to look cute. She was a bit thin, and flat in front, but that meant she looked young enough to pull off some little kid actions at times. She didn't want to overdo it however. She was an adult after all, if not a terribly old one.
"Drafty barn. One that I've been assured doesn't leak that badly. What that means here I don't really know. The whole place is a mud pit, so we should change there. Oh, they also all think I'm a boy. I'd be insulted, but, honestly, I just don't care. I need to work up some audition pieces for Bard Clarice, that's almost the only thing I have time to think about right now." She paced the three steps that the small room allowed and then turned back.
Bard Benjamin stood, and put both hands on her damp shoulders.
"Then let's get you something dry to wear, and then go and set up something that will impress both the High Bard Councilor and a backwoods village, shall we? It sounds like a worthy challenge!"
Pran had to agree, it really did.
Chapter three
"This, is impossible." Bard Benjamin used his slightly goofy, but charming smile to soften the blow. Not that Pran hadn't gotten the basic idea a good hour before. She knew enough songs, at least with Ben's help, to entertain the villagers. More than enough really, since they had time to actually practice and she had an old guitar to play, as well as a borrowed tampan.
