It only took the old man about five minutes to get the strings in agreement. Then he began to play.
I am shamed to admit it, but I remember nothing of the song. Despite the fact that I had never seen a court lute, let alone heard one, my mind was too awhirl with thoughts of Denna to absorb much else. As we leaned on the railing side by side, I snuck glances of her out of the corner of my eye.
She hadn’t called me by name, or mentioned our meeting before in Roent’s caravan. That meant she didn’t remember me. Not too surprising, I suppose, that she would forget a ragged boy she’d only known for a few days on the road. Still, it stung a bit, as I’d had fond thoughts of her for months. Still, there was no way to bring it up now without seeming foolish. Better to make a fresh start and hope I was more memorable the second time around.
The song was over before I realized it, and I clapped enthusiastically to make up for my inattention.
“I thought you’d made a mistake when you doubled your chorus earlier,” Denna said to me as the applause died down. “I couldn’t believe you really wanted a stranger to join in. I haven’t seen that done anywhere except around campfires at night.”
I shrugged. “Everyone kept telling me this is where the best musicians played.” I made a sweeping gesture with one hand toward her. “I trusted someone would know the part.”
She arched an eyebrow. “It was a near thing,” she said. “I waited for someone else to jump in instead. I was a little anxious to step in myself.”
I gave her a puzzled look. “Why? You have a lovely voice.”
She gave a sheepish grimace. “I’d only heard the song twice before this. I wasn’t sure if I’d remember all of it.”
“Twice?”
Denna nodded. “And the second time was just a span ago. A couple played it during a formal dinner I attended off in Aetnia.”
“Are you serious?” I said incredulously.
She tilted her head back and forth, as if caught in a white lie. Her dark hair fell across her face and she brushed it away absentmindedly. “Okay, I suppose I did hear the couple rehearse a little right before the dinner… .”
I shook my head, hardly believing it. “That’s amazing. It’s a terribly difficult harmony. And to remember all the lyrics… .” I marveled silently for a moment, shaking my head. “You have an incredible ear.”
“You’re not the first man to say that,” Denna said, wryly. “But you might be the first to say it while actually looking at my ears,” she glanced down meaningfully.
I felt myself beginning to blush furiously when I heard a familiar voice behind us. “There you are!” Turning, I saw Sovoy, my tall, handsome friend and coconspirator from Advanced Sympathy.
“Here I am,” I said, surprised that he would seek me out. Doubly surprised that he would have the bad grace to interrupt me when I was in a private conversation with a young woman.
“Here we all are.” Sovoy smiled at me as he walked over and put his arm casually around Denna’s waist. He made a mock frown at her. “I scour the bottom levels trying to help you find your singer, while all the while both of you are up here, thick as thieves.”
“We stumbled into each other,” Denna said, laying her hand over his where it rested on her hip. “I knew you’d come back for your drink, if nothing else …” She nodded to a nearby table, empty except for a pair of wineglasses.
Together, they turned and walked arm in arm back to their table. Denna looked over her shoulder at me and gave a sort of a shrug with her eyebrows. I hadn’t the slightest idea what the expression meant.
Sovoy waved me over to join them and pulled over an unoccupied chair so I would have a place to sit. “I couldn’t quite believe it was you down there,” he said to me. “I thought I recognized your voice, but …” He gestured, indicating the highest level of the Eolian. “While the third circle provides a comfortable privacy for young lovers, its view of the stage leaves a little to be desired. I didn’t know you played.” He settled a long arm across Denna’s shoulders and smiled his charming blue-eyed smile.
“Off and on,” I said flippantly as I sat down.
“Lucky for you I picked the Eolian for our entertainment tonight,” Sovoy said. “Otherwise you’d have had nothing but echoes and crickets to accompany you.”
“Then I’m in your debt,” I said to him, with a deferential nod.
“Make it up to me by taking Simmon as a partner next time we play corners,” he said. “That way you’re the one to eat the forfeit when the giddy little bastard calls the tall card with nothing but a pair.”
“Done,” I said. “Though it pains me.” I turned to Denna. “What of you? I owe you a great favor—how can I repay it? Ask anything and it is yours, should it be within my skill.”
“Anything within your skill,” she repeated playfully. “What can you do then, besides play so well that Tehlu and his angels would weep to hear?”
“I imagine I could do anything,” I said easily. “If you would ask it of me.”
She laughed.
“That’s a dangerous thing to say to a woman,” Sovoy said. “Especially this one. She’ll have you off to bring her a leaf of the singing tree from the other side of the world.”
She leaned back in her chair and looked at me with dangerous eyes. “A leaf of the singing tree,” she mused. “That might be a nice thing to have. Would you bring me one?”
“I would,” I said, and was surprised to find that it was the truth.
She seemed to consider it, then shook her head playfully. “I couldn’t send you journeying so far away. I’ll have to save my favor for another day.”
I sighed. “So I am left in your debt.”
“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “Another weight upon my Savien’s heart… .”
“The reason my heart is so heavy is that I fear I might never know your name. I could keep thinking of you as Felurian,” I said. “But that could lead to unfortunate confusion.”
She gave me an appraising look. “Felurian? I might like that if I didn’t think you were a liar.”
“A liar?” I said indignantly. “My first thought in seeing you was ‘Felurian! What have I done? The adulation of my peers below has been a waste of hours. Could I recall the moments I have careless cast away, I could but hope to spend them in a wiser way, and warm myself in light that rivals light of day.’ ”
She smiled. “A thief and a liar. You stole that from the third act of Daeonica.”
She knew Daeonica too? “Guilty,” I admitted freely. “But that doesn’t make it untrue.”
She smiled at Sovoy then turned back to me. “Flattery is fine and good, but it won’t win you my name. Sovoy mentioned you were keeping pace with him in the University. That means you meddle with dark forces better left alone. If I give you my name you would have a terrible power over me.” Her mouth was serious, but her smile showed itself around the corners of her eyes, in the tilt of her head.
“That is very true,” I said with equal seriousness. “But I will make you a bargain. I’ll give you my name in exchange. Then I will be in your power as well.”
“You’d sell me my own shirt,” she said. “Sovoy knows your name. Assuming he hasn’t told me already, I could have it from him as easy as breathing.”
“True enough,” Sovoy said, seeming relieved that we remembered he was there. He took up her hand and kissed the back of it.
“He can tell you my name,” I said, dismissively. “But he cannot give it to you—only I can do that.” I lay one hand flat on the table. “My offer stands, my name for yours. Will you take it? Or will I be forced to think of you always as an Aloine, and never as yourself?”
Her eyes danced. “Very well,” she said. “I’ll have yours first though.”
I leaned forward, and motioned for her to do the same. She let go of Sovoy’s hand and turned an ear toward me. With due solemnity I whispered my name in her ear. “Kvothe.” She smelled faintly of flowers, which I guessed was a perfume, but beneath that was her
own smell, like green grass, like the open road after a light spring rain.
Then she leaned back into her seat and seemed to think of it for a while. “Kvothe,” she said eventually. “It suits you. Kvothe.” Her eyes sparkled as if she held some hidden secret. She said it slowly, as if tasting it, then nodded to herself. “What does it mean?”
“It means many things,” I said in my best Taborlin the Great voice. “But you will not distract me so easily. I have paid, and now am in your power. Would you give me your name, that I might call you by it?”
She smiled and leaned forward again, I did likewise. Turning my head to the side, I felt an errant strand of her hair brush against me. “Dianne,” her warm breath was like a feather against my ear. “Dianne.”
We both sat back in our seats. When I didn’t say anything she prompted me, “Well?”
“I have it,” I assured her. “As sure as I know my own.”
“Say it then.”
“I am saving it,” I reassured her, smiling. “Gifts like these should not be squandered.”
She looked at me.
I relented. “Dianne,” I said. “Dianne. It suits you as well.”
We looked at each other for a long moment, then I noticed that Sovoy was giving me a not-quite-subtle stare.
“I should get back downstairs,” I said, rising quickly from my seat. “I’ve got important people to meet.” I cringed inwardly at the awkwardness of the words as soon as I’d said them, but couldn’t think of a less awkward way to take them back.
Sovoy stood and shook my hand, no doubt eager to be rid of me. “Well done tonight, Kvothe. I’ll be seeing you.”
I turned to see Denna standing too. She met my eyes and smiled. “I hope to see you too.” She held out her hand.
I gave her my best smile. “There’s always hope.” I meant it to seem witty, but the words seemed to turn boorish as soon as they left my mouth. I had to leave before I made an even greater ass of myself. I shook her hand quickly. It was slightly cool to the touch. Soft, delicate, and strong. I did not kiss it, as Sovoy was my friend, and that is not the sort of thing friends do.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
All This Knowing
In the fullness of time, and with considerable help from Deoch and Wilem, I became drunk.
Thus it was that three students made their slightly erratic way back to the University. See them as they go, weaving only slightly. It is quiet, and when the belling tower strikes the late hour, it doesn’t break the silence so much as it underpins it. The crickets, too, respect the silence. Their calls are like careful stitches in its fabric, almost too small to be seen.
The night is like warm velvet around them. The stars, burning diamonds in the cloudless sky, turn the road beneath their feet a silver grey. The University and Imre are the hearts of understanding and art, the strongest of the four corners of civilization. Here on the road between the two there is nothing but old trees and long grass bending to the wind. The night is perfect in a wild way, almost terrifyingly beautiful.
The three boys, one dark, one light, and one—for lack of a better word—fiery, do not notice the night. Perhaps some part of them does, but they are young, and drunk, and busy knowing deep in their hearts that they will never grow old or die. They also know that they are friends, and they share a certain love that will never leave them. The boys know many other things, but none of them seem as important as this. Perhaps they are right.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Fortune
The next day I went to the admissions lottery sporting my very first hangover. Weary and vaguely nauseous, I joined the shortest line and tried to ignore the din of hundreds of students milling about, buying, selling, trading, and generally complaining about the slots they’d drawn for their exams.
“Kvothe, Arliden’s son,” I said when I finally arrived at the front of the line. The bored looking woman marked my name and I drew a tile out of the black velvet bag. It read “Hepten: Noon.” Five days from now, plenty of time to prepare.
But as I turned back to the Mews, a thought occurred to me. How much preparation did I really need? More importantly, how much could I genuinely accomplish without access to the Archives?
Thinking it over, I raised my hand over my head with my middle finger and thumb extended, signaling that I had a slot five days from now that I was willing to sell.
It wasn’t long before an unfamiliar student wandered close. “Fourth day,” she said, holding up her own tile. “I’ll give you a jot to trade.” I shook my head. She shrugged and wandered away.
Galven, a Re’lar from the Medica approached me. He held up his index finger, indicating he had a slot later this afternoon. From the circles under his eyes and his anxious expression, I didn’t think he was eager to go through testing that soon. “Will you take five jots?”
“I’d like to get a whole talent… .”
He nodded, flipping his own tile over between his fingers. It was a fair price. No one wanted to go through admissions on the first day. “Maybe later. I’ll look around a little first.”
As I watched him leave, I marveled at the difference a single day could make. Yesterday five jots would have seemed like all the money in the world. But today my purse was heavy… .
I was lost in vague musings about how much money I had actually earned last night when I saw Wilem and Simmon approaching. Wil looked a little pale under his dark Cealdish complexion. I guessed he was feeling the aftereffects of our night’s carousing too.
Sim, on the other hand, was bright and sunny as ever. “Guess who drew slots this afternoon?” He nodded over my shoulder. “Ambrose and several of his friends. It’s enough to make me believe in a just universe.”
Turning to search the crowd, I heard Ambrose’s voice before I saw him. “… from the same bag, that means they did a piss-poor job mixing. They should restart this whole mismanaged sham and …”
Ambrose was walking with several well-dressed friends, their eyes sweeping over the crowd, looking for raised hands. Ambrose was a dozen feet away before he finally looked down and realized the hand he was heading toward was mine.
He stopped short, scowling, then gave a sudden barking laugh. “You poor boy, all the time in the world and no way to spend it. Hasn’t Lorren let you back in yet?”
“Hammer and horn,” Wil said wearily behind me.
Ambrose smiled at me. “Tell you what. I’ll give you ha’penny and one of my old shirts for your slot. That way, you’ll have something to wear when you’re washing that one in the river.” A few of his friends chuckled behind him, looking me up and down.
I kept my expression nonchalant, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. Truth was, I was all too aware of the fact that I only owned two shirts, and after two terms of constant wear they were getting shabby. Shabbier. What’s more, I did wash them in the river, as I’d never had money to spare for laundry.
“I’ll pass,” I said lightly. “Your shirttails are a little richly dyed for my taste.” I tugged at the front of my own shirt to make my point clear. A few nearby students laughed.
“I don’t get it,” I heard Sim say quietly to Wil.
“He’s implying Ambrose has the …” Wil paused. “The Edamete tass, а disease you get from whores. There is a discharge—”
“Okay, okay,” Sim said quickly. “I get it. Ick. Ambrose is wearing green too.”
Meanwhile, Ambrose forced himself to chuckle along with the crowd at my joke. “I suppose I deserve that,” he said. “Very well, pennies for the poor.” He brought out his purse and shook it. “How much do you want?”
“Five talents,” I said.
He stared at me, frozen in the act of opening his purse. It was an outrageous price. A few of the spectators nudged each other with their elbows, obviously hoping I’d somehow swindle Ambrose into paying several times what my slot was actually worth.
“I’m sorry,” I asked. “Do you need that converted?” It was a well-known fact that Ambrose had botche
d the arithmetic portion of his admissions last term.
“Five is ridiculous,” he said. “You’d be lucky to get one this late in the day.”
I forced a careless shrug. “I’d settle for four.”
“You’ll settle for one,” Ambrose insisted. “I’m not an idiot.”
I took a deep breath, let it out again, resigned. “I don’t suppose I could get you to go as high as … one and four?” I asked, disgusted by how plaintive my voice sounded.
Ambrose smiled like a shark. “I tell you what,” he said magnanimously. “I’ll give you one and three. I’m not above a little charity now and again.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said meekly. “It’s much appreciated.” I could sense the crowd’s disappointment as I rolled over like a dog for Ambrose’s money.
“Don’t mention it,” Ambrose said smugly. “Always a pleasure to help out the needy.”
“In Vintish coin, that’ll be two nobles, six bits, two pennies, and four shims.”
“I can do my own conversion,” he snapped. “I’ve traveled the world with my father’s retinue since I was a boy. I know how money spends.”
“Of course you do.” I ducked my head. “Silly of me.” I looked up curiously. “You’ve been to Modeg then?”
“Of course,” he said absentmindedly as he proceeded to dig through his purse, pulling out an assortment of coins. “I’ve actually been to high court in Cershaen. Twice.”
“Is it true that the Modegan nobility regard haggling as a contemptible activity for those of any highborn station?” I asked innocently. “I heard that they consider it a sure sign that the person is either possessed of low blood or fallen on truly desperate times… .”
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