by Dean Cadman
“Is that your plan, Neala, just to ignore me until I get bored and leave?”
Neala immediately spun her horse around to face the minstrel, forcing Kira to pull her own horse up short. “My name is not Neala. And if our company is not up to your liking, maybe you should spend the night at your precious inn up ahead and leave us alone,” Neala said, glaring menacingly at the minstrel. Rather than looking concerned or threatened by Neala’s sudden aggression, Kira simply smiled at her instead.
“You really don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, studying Neala’s face for any signs of recognition, then looking towards Lusam for the same.
“No, I don’t. And I can assure you that I would have remembered if we had ever met.”
Kira’s smile widened even further. “Oh, we’ve never met formally, of course, but I do know who you are. Both of you. You see, I was one of the minstrels who performed at the King’s victory celebrations in Lamuria, and I never forget a face. Especially of anyone who has such an incredible story to tell, like yours. Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to introduce myself in Lamuria, and Aysha knows, I tried,” Kira said, chuckling. “By the time I managed to extract myself from the palace and discovered where you were staying, you had already vanished. I asked around, of course, but no one seemed to know where you’d gone. There were rumours, as there always are, but nothing solid enough for me to follow up on. So imagine my delight when you both happened to walk into the very tavern where I was working last night.”
“You’re mistaken,” Neala replied, far less convincingly than she intended.
“I think not, Neala,” Kira replied, then she held up her hand towards Neala before she could reply. “You don’t need to worry. I have no intention of revealing who you are to anyone else. I simply wish to hear your story, so I can be the one to tell it to the world.”
Neala laughed mirthlessly. “Isn’t that a little contradictory? You promise not to tell anyone who we are, yet you want to tell the entire world about our lives in a song.”
A fresh smile spread across Kira’s face. “Let me ask you this, Neala. Do you think that I’m the only minstrel who is singing about The Heroes of Lamuria? Of course not. Every minstrel already has his or her own version of events written down in a song. And each is vying for their permanent position in history. You see, that’s what we minstrels do. We spend our entire lives hoping to be involved in, or even hear of something worthy enough to create a song about. A song that will outlive us. A song that will be passed down through the generations, along with our names—forever.
“Nothing in my lifetime is ever likely to even come close to this again, and I would be honoured if you would allow me to be the one who tells your story to the world. The true story. Not one that is made up by a minstrel who doesn’t know all of the real facts. Because be under no illusions, that is what will happen if the real story is not recorded for posterity. One rendition or another will eventually become accepted as the truth, and that rendition is just as likely to portray you both as monsters, as it is heroes.”
Neala was about to continue denying their identities, as nothing that Kira had just said proved that she had actually been inside the Royal Palace during the banquet. But what she said next changed all of that.
Kira turned to look at directly Lusam and gave him a wide toothy grin. “I promise not to mention that awful peach-coloured suit you were wearing in my song,” she said, winking at him in jest. Lusam’s face flushed bright red at the memory of it, but he remained silent.
“And what makes you so certain that it will be your rendition that is accepted, even if we do share our story with you?” Neala asked.
Again, the smile returned to Kira’s face. “Because, like I said, I was in Lamuria at the time it all happened, and many people know that to be true.”
“So were many other minstrels, I’d guess,” Neala replied.
“…And the fact that my man, Adger, back at The Rotten Oak also recognised you, and has no doubt already begun to spread the news of where I have gone, and more importantly, with whom. You see, I was booked for three nights at The Rotten Oak, and my presence there will be missed. No one will doubt my reason for leaving, as Adger is a well-trusted man in these parts, and the story will soon travel far and wide with the traders and merchants who frequent that particular tavern.”
“So, what you’re saying is, you told everyone where we were going?” Neala said, narrowing her eyes at the minstrel.
“No. I told them you were going to Helveel, just as you told me.”
“And how could you have possibly known that we weren’t going to Helveel?” Neala asked, incredulously.
Kira chuckled. “It really wasn’t that difficult. When I first recognised you both, I simply made a few discreet inquiries about what supplies you carried, so I knew what to pack myself, and soon discovered that you had actually arrived without any horses at all. So, unless you had travelled directly through The Dark Forest, which, of course, would have been insane, you had to have come directly from Helveel. Therefore, I knew you would be travelling east the following day, not west, back to Helveel as you said. All I had to do was wait for you further along the road and let you come to me.”
Neala stared at her for a moment, trying to work out what to do next. She needed some time to speak with Lusam privately, and knew that would be impossible with Kira around. She didn’t like the thought of sharing her experiences with the minstrel in the slightest, but she also knew what she had said held some merit. If the real story wasn’t revealed, they were likely to start hearing far worse renditions of their exploits in the future. And one day, she would like to be able to put all of this behind her and settle down to live a normal life with Lusam—or at least as normal as possible.
“Wait for us at the inn, we’ll join you there shortly,” Neala said. Kira started to object, but Neala held up a hand of her own. “If you wish to hear our story, those are my terms. Take it or leave it. It’s your choice.” Kira looked stricken, but eventually nodded and set off towards the village inn without argument. Neala waited until she was well out of earshot before speaking.
“What do you think?” she asked, still watching Kira ride off into the distance.
“Well, I think it’s obvious that she knows who we are.”
“Yes, I know that,” Neala said, rolling her eyes, “but what do you think about us telling her our version of events?”
Lusam thought for a moment before replying. “I can’t see any harm in it, as long as we’re careful. We still have no idea if Aamon is able to monitor us now that The Rift is open, so we’d need to be very cautious about what we say to her. We can’t reveal things such as where we’re going, or why. We’ll just have to remember that anything we do decide to tell her, we might as well be telling the rest of Afaraon about it too.”
“Agreed. We’ll need to lay down some ground rules with her before we even begin. She will have to accept that if she questions us on something that we don’t want to talk about, and we say no, that is the end of it. No prodding us, or trying to wheedle it out of us some other way later. But knowing what minstrels are like, I doubt that she will understand the concept of ‘no’ too well.”
Lusam chuckled. “You may be right, but I can’t see any reason why we can’t tell her about the potential threat from Aamon. At least that way we would have the perfect excuse not to answer any questions we don’t like. Besides, I can’t imagine she won’t already know about The Sanctum of Light’s bell glowing, so she’s bound to ask us if we were involved somehow. And I’d rather tell her about what happened in The Dark Forest than many other things from our past.”
“Yeah, we need to keep it simple, but whatever happens we should never underestimate her. If we do, we could easily find ourselves revealing important information that we shouldn’t. If you can, try to avoid using the names of people or places too. If she knows who to look for and where to find them, she could always seek them out later and possibly gain more info
rmation from them. It’s an old thieves’ trick I learned years ago, but you can bet that she’ll try to take advantage of any names that we let slip in a similar fashion.”
“You really don’t trust her, do you?” Lusam asked.
“No. And neither should you. I’ve seen the likes of her many times before. She’ll try to become our best friend any way she can, with no other motive than to get what she wants from us. We should make it a rule never to discuss anything with her alone. If she tries to speak to either of us whilst the other isn’t there, make your excuses and leave. Although that shouldn’t be a problem if we insist on speaking only whilst we’re riding.”
Lusam nodded and looked longingly towards the warm inn. His hair and clothes were now thoroughly wet, and the cold had started to seep deep into his bones. “At least there’s one good thing about her knowing who we are,” he said, grinning at Neala.
“Oh, what’s that?”
“Now I can use my magic to keep us warm and dry,” he replied, nudging his horse towards the inn without waiting for a reply. Neala rolled her eyes and set off after him, whilst muttering something under her breath.
It had been three days since Kira had first joined them, and during that time she had barely stopped asking questions about what had happened at Lamuria and in The Dark Forest. Lusam was incredibly grateful that Neala had made it a condition not to discuss things after they stopped riding each day. If she hadn’t, he felt certain that he would have gone mad with her incessant questioning. Fortunately, Kira appeared to have taken the warning about Aamon’s threat seriously, and whenever she broached a subject that they didn’t want to discuss, she seemed happy to move on to something else instead.
Lusam and Neala soon discovered that travelling with a minstrel actually had some advantages, such as preferential treatment at the inns and taverns where they stayed. The food and ale which they received were some of the best Lusam had ever tasted, and he thought that alone almost made it worthwhile enduring Kira’s endless questioning. Kira seemed to be a very well-known and respected minstrel, and received a warm welcome wherever she went. Many of the establishments offered her generous amounts of coin to stay for several more nights, but of course, she refused them all, leaving behind many disappointed tavern owners along the way.
Each night they stopped, Kira found herself performing at the request of the establishment’s owner. Lusam had no doubt that it was to avoid having to pay for her food and lodgings, as well as make a few coins along the way. But the thing that struck Lusam and Neala the most was that Kira never once performed her rendition of The Heroes of Lamuria, even when requested to do so by the patrons there. Lusam didn’t know if it was out of respect for him and Neala, or that she no longer wished to promote that version of the song. But whatever her reason, he was glad of it.
Another thing which surprised Lusam was that Kira chose to end her performance early each night and spend the time with them instead. At first Lusam was suspicious of her motives, because of what Neala had said about her attempting to become their friend. But as he got to know her better, he found himself beginning to like her more and more. She had a wicked sense of humour, and often had both him and Neala in stitches laughing with her seemingly endless supply of stories. And by the end of the third night, even Neala had secretly admitted to Lusam that she liked her.
Even though the weather had taken a turn for the worse—with icy rain and bitterly cold winds almost constant travelling companions—it was still far more pleasant now that Lusam could openly use his magic to keep them all warm and dry. At first, Kira had looked nervous when Lusam explained the concept of enclosing her inside a magical barrier, but she soon began to relax once she felt its obvious benefits.
Kira’s questions continued over the next several days unabated, and as they grew ever closer to Fairport, Lusam felt sure that they actually intensified—if that was even possible. Kira had only asked once where they were heading, and she had been refused an answer. Not because they didn’t want her to know, but because they didn’t want to risk informing Aamon of their plans, should he indeed be listening. As far as Lusam and Neala were concerned, the less time Aamon had to react to what they were doing, the better.
The night before they arrived at Fairport they stayed in a small village called Meadowgrove. It was little more than a collection of small houses and a single inn, but the folk there were as friendly as any they had come across so far on their journey. Unsurprisingly, Kira was well-known to the locals and was asked to perform for them almost as soon as she stepped through the door. She must have known, too, as she already held the bag which contained her lever harp. It was an incredibly well-designed instrument, which folded at various points so that it could be stored inside a small weatherproof bag. Although Lusam had never given it much thought before, he guessed that most minstrels must use similar instruments, due to their need for easy travel. After all, it wouldn’t be very practical riding a horse with a full-size harp strapped to the saddle.
Kira’s performance was exquisite as usual, and the small crowd showed their appreciation both in coin and voice. Lusam had noticed a few of the patrons glancing over in his and Neala’s direction throughout the performance, but had put it down to simple curiosity. No doubt they were wondering who was travelling with the minstrel, and as such, Lusam all but dismissed it from his mind.
Kira came to sit down on a stool opposite them and placed the bag containing her lever harp under the table. There was already a mug of ale waiting for her, and she quaffed most of it down in one go.
“Ah, I was ready for that,” she said, wiping away the froth from her top lip. The patrons were still openly calling for more songs, but Kira ignored them and they soon began to settle down again. She called over a young serving girl and ordered another round of drinks, then finished off what little remained in her mug.
“They seemed to like your performance tonight,” Lusam said, breaking the silence. Kira smiled and nodded, but still remained silent, staring at the bottom of her empty mug. Lusam knew she was troubled about something, because it was unlike her to be so subdued. Normally she would have been eager to share one of her many tales with them, as she had done every night since they first had met. Lusam was about to ask her what was troubling her so much, but Neala beat him to it.
“Are you alright, Kira? You look a bit… preoccupied.” Neala’s words seemed to startle her out of her reverie, and she quickly forced a smile onto her face and nodded. She paused a while before replying, as if measuring her words carefully.
“Tomorrow…” she said, then paused again. “Tomorrow will be our last day together, will it not?” She looked sheepishly between Lusam and Neala for confirmation, as if she felt her question might have overstepped some boundary between them. Although Lusam and Neala had refused to speak about their destination, it must have been obvious to Kira for some time now that they were heading towards Fairport. Whatever—if any—advantage they might have had over Aamon regarding their destination had also evaporated as they drew ever closer to Fairport. There was simply nowhere else they could be heading now.
Neala nodded. “I’m afraid so, Kira. But we’ll both miss you,” she said, smiling fondly at her.
Kira’s worried expression faded away, and was replaced by a relieved smile. “I’ll miss you too… both of you. And thank you for sharing your story with me. You have no idea how grateful I am. I just hope I can do it the justice it deserves.”
“Of that, I have little doubt,” Lusam said, smiling at her. “Just remember one thing, though.”
Kira raised her eyebrows. “What’s that?”
“Don’t you dare mention how bad I looked in that peach suit,” Lusam replied, narrowing his eyes at her in jest, and causing an outburst of laughter at their table.
Chapter Seven
It was late afternoon when Fairport finally came into view. Lusam had noticed a significant increase in road traffic along the final leg of their journey, compared with the last tim
e they had travelled to Fairport. He guessed the numerous traders and merchants were rushing to beat the coming winter storms, when trade and commerce would no doubt be at the mercy of the weather.
From the top of the hill, overlooking Fairport, Lusam noticed several new warehouses and other buildings that had not been there before. Some had been fully completed, but others were still in process of being built. It seemed that Fairport had grown significantly since their last visit, and the increased number of people moving around on the dockside also supported that assessment. It also appeared that the docks themselves were being extended to allow more ships to simultaneously load and unload their cargoes. Currently, there was only enough room for a maximum of five vessels, and it was obvious by the large number of ships anchored out in the bay that five was no longer sufficient for the current level of trade now being conducted.
As they slowly descended the road into Fairport, the mood became a mixture of relief and sadness for Lusam and Neala. Relief that they had finally made it to Fairport, and could now hopefully move on towards their ultimate goal of finding a fourth Guardian book. And sadness at having to say goodbye to Kira. Although they had only known her for a relatively short time, both Lusam and Neala now considered her a good friend. It was hard to say their goodbyes, but they all knew that they must.
Lusam had half-expected Kira to ask if she could accompany them on their onward journey, but she never did. No doubt she was keen to start circulating her latest rendition of The Heroes of Lamuria, along with her new song about the battle at The Rift. Lusam suspected that Kira was close to finishing both songs from what she had already told them, but neither he or Neala had heard them yet. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but he had no doubt that he would hear them both performed by someone, somewhere in the future.
