by DJ Morand
* * *
Barvvowind: Year 901 AB
37 Sepfer: Sepal - Morning
Palace of the King
It was not long before the performers meandering outside the palace court were called inside. They were brought in groups of ten or so. The inner city had begun to clear late in the evening. The caravaners huddled around the cart and did their best to keep warm. In the evening the sun dipped below the horizon and the cold settled in. It was not until near the next morning that the court officials came to call on Cortis’’ caravan.
The palace was even more grand than the entry hall. Cortis stared up at the parapets as they reached into the sky and disappeared behind the clouds. His jaw felt slack and he had to forcibly close it. The parapets gave way to vaulted ceilings as they entered the palace. Fancy separated molding adorned the great arches, and shining colored glass sparkled with the light of the sun from above. They advanced on columns and passed them, advancing on more. The walk was long, but to Cortis it was over too soon.
Standing before double doors the caravaners waited in a line of several other performers. Raucous laughter spilled from the hall. Several members of Cortis’ caravan bowed their heads and let their faces fall. Crestfallen, the caravaners begin to gather their belongings. The young bard stood up and took out his lute. With nimble fingers he strummed the strings. Faces looked up at him, questioning why he persisted. Cortis hummed a lively tune and a few of the caravaners picked up the words to Fair the Lady’s Champ.
We stomp, we stamp
Fair the lady's champ
In taverns we play
For meager pay!
Fair the lady's champ
In song we sing
On wind's wing
In the forest dark
Singing like a lark!
Fair the lady's champ
A tale to tell
Our ego to swell
For the king we wait
Our bellies we sate
Fair the lady's champ
We stomp, we stamp
In taverns we play
On wind's wing
For the king we wait
Fair the lady's champ!
Before long other’s joined in and the hall outside the king’s court was booming with the harmony of the caravan’s voices. Amid the voices the tune of Cortis’ lute rang out and hummed with mesmerizing energy. As they sang, and Cortis played, another waiting in the hall began to raise his instrument in opposition. The song came from a little person. He stood two and half heads shorter than the average man and he bounced about as he played a set of pipes. With the tubes pressed to his lips his face grew red with the effort to play above the chorus of Cortis’ caravaners.
Intrigued Cortis slapped a hand against his instrument, it gave a dull thud as the music stopped. He put up a hand to bring his people to quiet. The dwarfish man played and danced. Cortis watched in fascination. When the man stopped to breathe, the young bard began to clap.
“Well played! A fine tune,” Cortis congratulated the little man. “The Elf Stole my Willow Tree, a fine tune indeed.“
“A better tune than Fair the Lady’s Champ for sure,” the little man spoke.
“Without a doubt,” Cortis’ smile played across his mouth. “What say you to a wager? My lute against your pan-flute. Bamboo?“
“Weld-reed actually,” the little man said. “Stuffed with beeswax, cat gut?“
“Fox sinew,” Cortis touched the strings on his lute. “A more clever sound. Original song, or folk?““
“Folk,” the little man smiled. “Something everyone knows, a test of skill instead of wit. Weld wood?““
Cortis ran his hand across the bowl-shaped box of his instrument, “In part, keeps well against the damp.“
“What song shall we play?” the little man asked. “Chicken and the Crow?“
“No,” Cortis said. “That is far more suited to the pan-pipe than a lute. “Whisper in the Weld?“
“I think not!” the little man protested, “that was written for the lute!“
In unison they both said, “Rising Sea.“
“Challenger leads,” the little man said.
“No, I insist. Weld-reed, before Weld-wood.“
“Flip a coin?” the little man offered.
Cortis turned to the gathering crowd, “Does anyone have a sixpence?”
An older woman handed Cortis a coin. He didn’t recognize the woman, but he recognized the excitement in her eye. She was invested in the wager. In his joy at finding another bard so able, Cortis had neglected to notice the bets taking place around them. He winked at the older woman and pulled the strand of cloth from his hair. His dark brown locks fell about his face and he tossed his head back. Turning back to the little man, the young bard bowed.
“Cortis Forland Aman-Dexar, Master Bard and Expert Luthier, at your service,” he said with a flourish.
The little man bowed back, “Flautist Beregrin Tall at your pleasure.“
Cortis grinned and showed the silver coin to Beregrin, “Call it in the air,” and he flipped the coin.
“King’s head,” Beregrin said just before the coin landed back in Cortis’ hand.
Cortis flipped the coin over to the back of his hand, careful to not let it slip. He peeked under his hand before revealing it. A grin spread across his face, “Wyvern’s tail,”” he said.
Beregrin huffed and motioned for the people to step back. They backed away forming a ring around the two performers. The little man took several deep breaths. He started to tap his foot to a rhythm and the people took it up with subtle claps. Putting the pipes to his lips, he tested the tune. The song was familiar to everyone and they sang along as Beregrin blew.
The wind blows, it blows
Rising sea, rising sea
The sail in the wind she goes
The waves crash, they crash
Rising sea, rising sea
The ship in the rocks is smashed
The rain falls, it falls
Rising sea, rising sea
The sailor shivers and calls
The wind blows, it blows
The waves, crash, they crash
The rain, falls, it falls
After the first verse, Cortis lifted his lute and began to strum the strings. The song rang pure and true. Despite being a nursery rhyme for children, Cortis brought it to life. The strings seemed to come alive. Beregrin’s eyes opened wide when Cortis began to play. Furiously, he began to huff and puff struggling to keep up with the young bard’’s speed. Soon the little man was gasping for breath. The song of the lute silenced all others and Cortis danced in the ring as he played. Beregrin picked the song back up again, his pipes blaring in harmony with the strings of the lute.
Both men danced in a circle and the people began to clap again. The two musicians stared in one another’s eyes as their music filled the hall, “Your pipes are like the song of the heavens! Your arpeggios steal my breath!”
Beregrin smiled behind the pipes and paused for breath, “You have beaten me sir. Truly your fingers alight upon the strings like a stone skipping water. The harmony alone is more than beauty. I concede.”
Cortis nodded, “I accept. You are a formidable opponent!”
The crowd cheered and jeered together as coin exchanged hands. Cortis noted those with fallen faces, and he felt a sting of pity for them. Beregrin bowed his head and held out his pipes to Cortis. The young bard looked at the pipes and the saddened face of Beregrin.
“I will not take your pipes good sir,” Cortis said. “To do so would be a detriment to the world as a whole. Play on dear friend play on.””
Beregrin’s face lit up. Soon after his eyes narrowed and focused on something behind Cortis. The young bard turned around to meet the face of guards. They looked surly enough, but Cortis smiled jovially, “Can I help you sirs?”
“Are you the one with the lute? The one that played in the tunnel?” one of the guards asked.
Still jovial, Cort
is replied, “Twas I.”
“The king summons you to the court,” the guard said.
“Great! Folks! Come we are summoned,” Cortis said to his caravaners.
“Just you,” the guard barked.
* * *
Barvvowind: Year 901 AB
37 Sepfer: Sepal - Mid-Morning
Palace of the King
The guards led Cortis into the main hall. People lined either side of the great room, the center left open. Led into the doors by the guards, Cortis found himself surrounded by nobles on all sides. He felt his knees start to shake. Stepping forward, he remembered to bow before the king.
“Your majesty,” he said.
“Stand,” the king said. “Play us a song.“
Cortis stood and smiled. A song was well within his ability. He took the lute from his back and swung it around to his front. He tested the strings, they were still warm from his duel with Beregrin. He plucked at the strings and allowed the clear sound to echo in the hall. Appreciative murmurs came from all around. Cortis prepared to play Whisper in the Wind when he caught sight of the princess. He felt his breath catch in his throat. The princess was the fairest woman he had ever laid eyes on. The sun trickled in through a colored window and alighted upon her hair. Her skin was fair and she had emerald eyes that stole his heart.
Cortis gasped and stared up at the princess. He could see her flush lightly. Cortis smiled and tossed his mane of hair back out of his face. The king let out a low growl, but Cortis did not hear him. Instead, he looked directly at the princess and met her eyes. Then, he strummed his lute. The sound was pure and magical.
“To the Princess, with the red, sun-kissed hair,” Cortis strummed the lute again and then his fingers danced across the strings like fireflies lighting upon the water. He sang.
Beauty, Fine, and Fair
The Princess with the Red
Sun-kissed hair
My breath you did catch
My heart you did fetch
Straight from my chest
Beat one, Beat two
If I cannot look on you
My heart will stop
It's true, It’s true
Beauty, fine, and fair
Breath Catching
Heart Fetching
The Princess with the Red
Sun-kissed hair
Beauty, fine, and fair
Leaping
Prancing
Dancing
For the Princess with the Red
Sun-Kissed Hair
The princess laughed gaily and clapped her hands. To this, Cortis grinned and gave her a wink. The king caught sight of this and growled. His eyebrows furrowed, and he coughed uncomfortably. With a simple motion of his hand he signaled the guards. Two men from either side of the great hall stepped from the shadows and moved toward Cortis. The young bard knew better than to run, but his heart leapt into his throat. As the panic settled on him, he begin to play a rhythmic sort of song. The lute thrummed with reverberating power. He saw the guards hesitate at the king’s second motion.
Emboldened, Cortis began to hum the words to another song, Whisper in the Wind. He hummed for a long while until the hall began to sing along with his humming. The lute sang out the notes of the song like a possessed thing. His fingers ached from their playing across the dried and drawn strings. He could feel the warm of blood begin to seep to the surface of his fingers. He stopped playing before they began to bleed and tapped a steady beat on the base of the instrument. Then he joined his voice with the people.
A whisper in the wind
Greeting me, greeting me again
A whisper in the wind
Death with an evil grin
A whisper in the wind
A whisper in the wind
Canno’ have me today
A whisper in the wind
Is all I wish to say to
A whisper in the wind
A whisper in the wind
Just a touch of grace
A whisper in the wind
I feel death’s fingers on me face
A whisper in the wind
A whisper in the wind
Dance, dance away
A whisper in the wind
Go, go away, dance all day
A whisper in the wind
A whisper in the wind
Far, far away, dance, dance away
A whisper in the wind
Greeting me, greeting me today
A whisper in the wind
A whisper in the wind
The guards stood back at the king’s urging. The song came to a slow close and Cortis’ last chorus was in a near whisper. The beauty of the song moved the court and they clapped when the performance was at an end. The king raised his hands and stood. The hall became silent. The king fixed his eyes on Cortis.
* * *
Barvvowind: Year 901 AB
37 Sepfer: Sepal - Afternoon
Hall of the King
A long moment of pained silence filled the hall. The king stood and stared at Cortis. The young bard breathed heavily and tried to ignore the throbbing of his fingertips. Scowling, the king looked down at Cortis from the raised dais. Cortis swallowed hard and prayed he had not played his last song.
“You have a measure of skill,” the king said. “Skill I have not seen in the other performers, but you have gall as well.”
Cortis knew he had overstepped his place in flirting with the princess. He chanced a glance at her. She smiled back at him. Cortis blushed and turned his eyes back to the king. The king, Talmin O’sar’lin, was no fool, and he recognized his daughter’s infatuation with the young bard. He noticed too, the young bard’s attention to his only daughter. The king knew that Cortis would be a problem if he did not take care of this nonsense here and now.
“I shall give my daughter’s hand,” the king said. Cortis’ eyes widened. “And your life, in exchange for a task. It is obvious my daughter is swayed by your honeyed words and breathless songs. How, then, can I deny my daughter such things? The dilemma, master bard, is that how can I give my daughter’s hand to a man who has not proven his worth in deed?”
Cortis was afraid to reply, but it was obvious King Talmin wanted an answer, “I fear your majesty, I cannot say. For I am not a nobleman and know not of such preconditions that measure a man so.”
The king frowned. Cortis was not sure if this was a frown of disapproval or one of thought. The king answered quickly and put the bard’s question to rest.
“A wise answer,” the king said, his voice booming. “However, one that lays with me the burden of deciding your fate. I propose to you, as before, a task for your life and the hand of my daughter. Think before you answer. Will you take this task?”
Cortis did little thinking before he said, “I shall.”
The king harrumphed loudly and motioned to the guards, “I have been preparing an expedition of men. There is a gem that lies within a hidden cave beyond the veil.”
In those days, the veil was a range of mountains that stretched as far as the east and as far as the west. None knew what lay beyond the veil, save for the few merchants that traded with the northmen. Cortis was unsure now of his pledge and feared for his life. However, knowing that he had entered a pact with the king, Cortis kept his tongue.
“These men,” the king motioned to the guards. “Shall see you safely from my kingdom and to the wall of the veil. Beyond the veil, I am told, there is a cave the northmen call VVontar’s Hearth. In our tongue this place is called Home of Winter. You must enter the cave alone and bring out of it VVontar’s Shouel. Return this gem to me and you shall be granted land and title and given my daughter’’s hand in marriage. Pray that you learn some humility, Master Bard.“
Cortis nodded and kissed his knuckles in gratitude towards the king. King Talmin made a dismissive gesture and the guards led Cortis from the hall. The bard shot a final glance towards the princess and met her eyes. He could see that she would wait with bated breath for
his return. A smile returned to his eyes and he winked at her. The princess stifled a giggle as her father turned toward her, his look one of suspicion. Cortis began to sing the song he had improvised for the princess at the top of his ability. This time, the princess did giggle.
* * *
North: Year 901 AB
7 Rytfer: Sepal - Morning
The Veil
After exiting the king's hall, the guards took Cortis to the edge of the kingdom. The journey to the edge of the kingdom only took a day, once they crossed the bridge back to the mainland there was not much left of the king's purview. Cortis realized that the majority of King Talmin's domain lay within on the island itself. He was sure the king expected it was more than it was. Kings, Cortis decided, were silly men. He would not of course mention that to any kings he might encounter.
After reaching the edge of the kingdom, the two guards advised that they would not be going with him. Instead, they instructed Cortis where to meet with the others the king had sent at the edge of the Veil. When Cortis asked who the men were, the guards laughed at him and turned to leave.
“What's to stop me from coming back right now?” Cortis called to the men.
“Us,” the first guard said. “If you so much as set foot in the kingdom without the gem, we're to kill you. Good luck.”
The guard sneered as he'd said good luck, suggesting he wished nothing of the kind on Cortis. The bard shrugged and wondered about this gem. He was curious, and the princess was gorgeous. Deciding that he couldn't go back the way he'd come, Cortis traveled north, towards the Veil. He had reached the edge of the Veil two days ago, but no one had come to greet him. Cortis suspected the others had either gone about their lives or had been killed by the local wildlife. He would not succumb to either despair or death. The mountainous crags made for difficult travel, but it only took him a couple of days to get lost in the middle of the Veil. The mountain range had peaks and valleys. Had it not been for the abundance of streams, Cortis would have died days ago.
