by P. S. Power
"Fine." She controlled her breathing, so it wouldn't look like she was gasping nearly as much as Roy was. It was acting, but she was supposed to be a highly trained Guardian, not some Bard. The role had to be consistent or people would notice the errors. It meant having to move like she wasn't horribly stiff too.
The town was more or less deserted, the dirt and stone streets empty until they got to the market, which was a lot smaller than she thought it would be, looking to have about a dozen different stalls.
Roy understood that part and shared the information easily, like he would with any new apprentice anything in a similar situation.
"This is largely a farmers market in the summer and fall. Produce and that kind of thing. These are the people selling finished goods and non-perishable things. Preserves, flour and some things that will keep. Cloth and probably some metal things, if they have a smith in town."
They were near the first stall in the row, which had an older man sitting under an awning, wrapped in a heavy looking cloak. It was an off blue shade and looked to have seen better days, having some smudges and dirt stains. The hair on the top of his head was gone, and his smile didn't seem genuine at all. He looked hard and had a face that seemed off somehow.
"You kids looking for something in particular?"
That got an answering smile from Roy, who wasn't being nearly as suspicious as she felt for some reason. Probably because he was a good person, not sent to see if there was a problem.
"Yes sir. We have orders to check on all non-perishable goods and to see if there are any novelties that might sell well in other places? Do you know if there is anything like that here?" The man stared at them for a few seconds, then nodded.
"About halfway down on the right there are some interesting things. I have cloth, mainly homespun, but some of the women around here do a good job with it." He pointed out what he was talking about, which actually got Roy to pay close attention for a while, especially when he heard the prices.
"A silver a bolt for the fine green? I... How much coin do we have?" He glanced at Pran, who didn't take anything out of her pocket. She knew the answer and leaned in to whisper, not wanting to advertise to the whole market.
"Ten."
Roy clapped once, getting way more attention than he should have. Most of the other merchants were staring. They all looked oddly hard too and had strange bulges on their belts, hidden under cloth that indicated something wasn't right. She couldn't tell what it was, but they held themselves straight and looked strong.
"Perfect! I'd like to purchase four of the fine green then. Can we pick it up later? We may have some other things and carrying it all back ourselves might not be the most efficient way."
The man nodded, smiling again and seeming a little more happy about them being there then. All merchants liked to have sales after all.
"We can do that. Do you think that you'll be back this evening? I heard that there was a Bard coming to perform for us. Everyone will be there."
That got a grin from Roy that couldn't be faked.
"I don't know, but it sounds like that might be. Especially after a find like this cloth. Captain should be happy with me... Pr... Daria?"
She shook her head slowly.
"I have watch tonight. We need to hurry before Clark comes and drags me off." She looked at the hard man and saw that others were watching her too.
"I mean, I have permission to be here, but he can get cranky. You know how it is with masters and all that."
They were able to move down a ways to find the curiosities that had been mentioned, as well as buy nearly fifty kilos of coffee beans. They were pre-roasted, but it was, Roy assured her, a good price.
"We can always sell it in the cities." They didn't have enough silver for it, the price being nearly three gold, but the merchant was willing to hold it for them, if they could have it picked up that night.
Roy seemed pretty pleased with himself and guided her over to the table of things being guarded by a hard looking woman with unnaturally curly hair. Pran nearly ran away then.
The table didn't just have metal works or art on it, it had electrical devices. Lights, which would have been hard enough to find in most places, but also other machines that did work, if a charge was applied. The woman also had large batteries and small generators to build the charge.
It was a fortune in materials sitting there and wasn't something that should have been on a table for the public to buy at all. This kind of thing would have been made by one of the very rare craftsmen that dealt in such things, Bards and artisans. It took High Council documents to be allowed to own things like that too and no person was allowed to just purchase them... You had to show they were needed for some reason.
She grinned.
"How much for this beam light?" She pointed as Roy finally started to look around, a little shocked. The Guardians had beam lights, after all, so he knew what it was.
"Half silver." The woman fairly grunted the words, then picked it up, showing a small fold out handle on it.
"You turn this crank to charge it. The case is durable metal, so it won't wear out soon. High quality construction. The glass is extra thick, so you could beat a man to death with it and still have a workable light." She didn't bother smiling, but Pran did.
"Three for a silver and a half? How about three for a silver?" No one had haggled yet, but this was, clearly, forbidden technology. Or at least it shouldn't be sold to the likes of her and Roy. That meant she wanted one, but also that the seller had to be a little flexible too. It was what she would have done if she had the means and found something like this in a market on her own after all.
The woman shook her head and spoke darkly.
"Can't do it. I might be able to come down a bit, for someone as young as you, but not down to one silver. One and a tenth?" She held her hand out to shake, as if the deal was finalized. Pran took it, and felt the hard calluses there. Her hand had some too, but on the fingertips, not the palms. If the woman noticed that she didn't let it show.
"Deal. These are very good quality. If you can get more I think we can sell them in other places." Not that anyone would have the documents for them.
Nor did the woman try to show hers or get them to sign anything. It was fantastically strange. So much so that she jumped when the large hand closed on her shoulder.
"Apprentice. There you are. Trying to skip out on work?" Clark didn't actually sound mad, just bemused as if she wasn't really in trouble, just needed elsewhere.
"No sir. Roy came to see to some purchases and I found these." She showed him the beam lights, cranking one of the handles happily for a minute then showing him the light that wasn't that bright, but enough to have a cold white glow.
"Oh? You bought these with what funds? I don't recall paying you yet."
That got her to sigh.
"The Captain's. It's a good purchase though, I hope. Roy didn't tell me not to at least." She looked at the other apprentice as if hoping for back-up from him, but Clark interrupted with a laugh.
"Alright, alright. I'll let you tell her what you did with her coin. We need to get back. A lot of work to do, if we aren't expected to see to any court cases here. Come along." The hand on her arm gave a single soft tug and then they were walking, Roy explaining hurriedly about how the other things could be picked up later.
The large man just looked considering and shrugged.
"We'll get Paul out with the wagon then. You can ride in later then. We should hurry. I'll carry the lights, you can do the walking guard for us, to practice." This got directed at her, which nearly got a groan, since she was already so sore.
It was harder now than the night before too, because Clark expected her to be on a real guard, no doubt, and was also watching her to make sure she did it right. Her movements were still way too regular, and even Roy watched her easily most of the time. No one called her on it, not until they were back to the ship.
"Not bad work, considering. Not good enough e
ither, but a credible start. Get a shower and into something clean for later." He spoke to both of them but tugged Pran's arm as she walked past him, Roy pulling ahead.
"You have a plan for this evening?" He sounded a bit skeptical for some reason.
"That part I actually have training for. It's the first thing I'm doing that isn't totally outside my depth." She needed to get with Ben, if he was going to play the role of her master.
It took longer than it should have, getting to his quarters, the Bard having been setting up for the evening's work for hours. He didn't wait for her to say anything when she came in, just handing her two small cases.
"Reed flute and Tampan. I don't have a wide selection of things for you to play I'm afraid. I do have a nice yellow cloak for you to wear. Can you borrow a dress? Claire has some nice ones..." It would normally be hugely inappropriate to ask her for the lend, but this seemed a little bit special. Even Benjamin got that, though it was clear he hadn't been told everything either. She nodded and tried to figure out how to ask.
"I'll try. I need some make-up too... and a different look." That, it turned out, Ben had a lot of. So it was just about the clothing and hiding her hair. There was one way to do that fast, except it would keep her from playing Guardian Daria again.
Shave it off. It was what she'd do if she were really totally committed, wasn't it?
A week before she would have manufactured an elaborate head dress instead, or a skull cap of wax and paint, but now she just didn't care enough to let vanity rule her. Bards did eccentric things like that after all. It helped them stand out and made people feel they were seeing something exotic and unusual. The truth was though that she didn't have enough time to hide herself properly and needed to go with something obvious and big that most wouldn't be willing to do for a simple disguise. She'd look pretty bad for a while, but it was worth it, if these people were selling illegal technology like it seemed.
The words that Mara had said came back to her then. Total commitment. That was the true secret power of the Guardians. They did what they had to, no matter what the cost.
She grinned, not liking the idea at all, and walked out of the room holding the instruments. She'd have to practice first and was only getting two songs, near the middle of Ben's longer set. Other than that she'd just hand him his instruments and keep back. Perhaps keep his water glass full. It was what a new apprentice Bard would be doing after all. She was clearly not that great an apprentice either, if one of her instruments was supposed to be the tampan. A stick with bells on it... She could play it, but that was the point, anyone could. It was the easiest thing to play in the world.
Pran was a little surprised that Bard Ben even had one.
Given what she had planned for her disguise, she went to Claire first and fairly demanded the sharing of her best clothing. The woman made a face and sighed, then came up with a light white dress that was made of soft fabric that draped liberally in the front, showing a lot of chest. It had woven straps to hold it up and tied in place from the back, which was impractical for anyone that didn't have a servant to help them into it.
"You do realize that this won't last the night, right? It would be dicey enough if I was just a Bard, but..." It was pretty fragile looking. Nice though. Clearly the finest thing the woman owned.
"I know. Still, we need you to look the part..."
It got handed over then and Claire didn't look too troubled by the idea as Pran left, her face resigned and almost peaceful. Everyone had to make sacrifices after all. Feeling almost breathless she went to find Mara, since the woman obviously cut her own hair regularly. She'd need to borrow the tools.
The next two hours were a race, her hair being taken off to a low bristly shadow of its former self with shears, then shaved off totally with the help of a razor from the stores. It left her feeling light and her head chilled, but looking different enough that she didn't recognize herself in the mirror.
Then, after taking an hour to practice and getting more help from Mara, she used some of Ben's stage make up to paint half her head a brilliant orange, to go with the yellow of the cloak. It was precisely half her face, the other, past a thin line of brilliant red right down her nose, was left bare. The rest of her head was harder to do, but she managed it just in time. When she walked out to the front of the ship everyone stared at her, including Clark and Mara. They didn't seem upset by the change. Just appraising of her work.
Ben recovered first.
"Good. Come sit next to me in the wagon and we'll discuss the plans for the evening again. Do you know what you're going to do?" He seemed almost blasé about the whole thing, which was no doubt cultivated. No Bard wanted to seem scared before a performance.
"First 'The Riding Circle' on the Reed Flute, then 'Homecoming Fire' on the Tampan." They were good choices, being medium hard to perform, but well within what she could do on short notice. The rest of her duties were pretty standard. Ben would just ask her to do things softly and she would. That way if he wanted to change the timing of something on the fly it could be done without any difficulty.
No one mentioned the rest of the thing. The real reason for going in the first place. Those odd people with their hard looks, selling the things they were. It had to be more than just some merchants as well, or the Mayor probably wouldn't have reported them. He might even have turned a blind eye or bought some things for his own use. No, Pran didn't know what was going on in the town, but it almost had to be something bigger than just that. Even the Guardians hadn't been that upset over the beam lights and it was part of their job to make sure things like that didn't get out of control. Too much luxury could lead to waste after all. That and unequal distribution of resources.
Pran just sat and mentally rehearsed her part, since it was her real job at the moment. No matter what, she had to give a real show, just like Ben did.
When they rode into town the wagon creaking and a soft cool wind blowing, the sky dark already, the streets were empty again. Only one building had lights on, and those, very sensibly, were oil lamps. It was a big building, the meeting hall most likely. The outside was stained red to protect it from the elements, but made of old and heavy logs. It had a gentle ramp up to the doorway, instead of stairs. They pulled up in front of it, with Paul smiling as he turned back to look at the carriage behind them.
"Now, Bard Benjamin, no fair starting the show before we get the horses seen to! Everyone will want to see you and the new apprentice." Not everyone was there of course. Most of the ship's crew wasn't in fact. The Captain was in the carriage, with Claire, Mara and Roy was in the back of the wagon, along with Dovish, but the rest were back on the ship, with orders to lift off if anyone tried to take it. That didn't seem likely, but it was a real thought, given that no one knew what was really going on. Losing a whole airship would be embarrassing after all.
"Of course good sir! We wouldn't dream of doing this without you there to support our efforts." Bard Benjamin sounded different then, his voice booming and deeper than normal. A performance voice, the act having already begun.
"Come Apprentice Pran. Bring the instruments and ready yourself. We'll be giving these folks a show the likes of which they've seldom seen!"
It was a bit over the top, but Pran nodded and played along.
"At once Master Bard Benjamin! I can't wait to see the smiling faces of everyone in this wonderful town!" She pitched it so that people inside would have a chance to hear her.
After all, it was part of the show.
Chapter nine
The scene inside the meeting hall was both familiar to Pran and odd. Only two of the merchants they'd seen earlier were in the room at all, and it looked like almost everyone else had shown up. Not everyone liked music, so that almost never happened. In a town of a hundred people like this one, there should have been at most forty in attendance. This looked more like ninety.
They didn't seem happy about it either.
Not just cold or a little sad, they all seemed to be ho
rribly frightened for some reason. As if they expected to be beaten or die at any moment. No one seemed to have a weapon on them, so that didn't make a lot of sense. That there was something wrong seemed clear, but what it was, Pran just couldn't tell.
Bard Benjamin just smiled at the crowd as if they'd welcomed him with open arms and started playing automatically, not even introducing himself. It was an opening trick that they were all taught in school. It generally kept the people from having a chance to dislike you too much. People were used to hating others for their words, but not for music. He didn't sing or anything, just playing a decently complex lute piece. When it was finished he got a smattering of polite applause.
"I'm Bard Benjamin Foley and this is my Apprentice, Pran. Next I'd like to play a few songs to get the night started..."
The musical choices were all good and eventually, about twenty minutes and five songs, into the evening's show people started to clap along or tap their feet. They still seemed subdued, but it was better. Almost like a real crowd. The people that had come with them were more animated, Claire acting happy, dancing in place, and Roy looking at her like she was a freak, but also grinning like a fool. Only Dovish seemed uneasy looking at the merchants who stood near the back, hands on the things under their tunics. It didn't make a lot of sense for the slow man to be doing that, but whatever sense he had of such things allowed him to tell who the real threat in the room was.
Clark was next to Claire, and Mara went outside for a few moments just as it was Pran's turn to play finally. The flute song went over well enough, but when she started to play the tampan Clark stood and ran toward the back of the space, hitting the two merchants, or whatever they were, before they could do more than make a few rough noises of pain.
Pran sang then, trying to find the beat of the song, one that didn't normally have words.
"Everybody clap along!" She cried out, trying to get them to help cover the sounds of the bodies. It took a few seconds but it worked, a rhythmic thumping sound started as people started to stomp their feet on the floor boards.
