Page 35 of Valdemar

“You’re always starving,” Restil teased. “Lythe will be fine, she has Trusty and Alphonse with her. Let’s go down by the river. Have you been there yet?”

Rothas shook his head, and followed along beside Restil. “No. Kind of afraid to. I can’t swim! We just had streams and ponds.”

Restil laughed. “You’re in no danger of falling in by accident. And I don’t intend to push you in until after I teach you to swim.”

Rothas rolled his eyes. “Oh,” he replied sarcastically. “Thank you.”

“So, when did you start trying to entertain people?” Restil asked as they approached the river and found a good spot on the bank, just under a willow tree. He dug out a little hollow between two roots and sat down; after watching him, Rothas did the same.

“As early as I can remember, which is just as well, since my pa went off hunting and never came back, and my ma died when I was about six,” the young man said matter-of-factly. “I got passed around all the families in my village as they had food to spare, but nobody grudged it, on account of that. There was an inn the next village over—Lark Rise—and the innkeeper offered to take me off their hands, permanent. Folks was a little sorry to see me go, but times was hard, I was getting bigger and eating more, and they reckoned they could always get me to come back now and again when times got better. When I wasn’t singing in the inn, people paid me a bit to come do weddings and the like.” He ate an egg, whole. “The only problem that curse ever really gave me was that I couldn’t sing at the inn after sundown, which was hard in the winter, ’cause folks would come in and be disappointed I was already sleeping like a stone and couldn’t be waked up.” He frowned. “Well, that isn’t quite true. When people got used to it, there was some as talked behind their hands about how my curse might spread to the whole village, and some that used to try to prove I was faking it. I got scars from where they’d stick me with a knife! Harcort Innkeeper tried to put a stop to it, but he didn’t always catch ’em. He was getting a bit put out anyway, because he was feeding me full meals and boarding me too, and not getting what he called his ‘full value’ out of me. So I was going a bit further than I’d been doing, working, to bring in money so I could leave him eventually.”

“You didn’t care for him?” Restil asked, carefully peeling an egg of his own. The hens were laying well now, well enough that eggs could be spared for lunch.

Rothas shrugged. “Nobody much cared for me once Ma died. I was useful, so I got treated all right, but I wasn’t blood kin to anyone, so they didn’t put themselves out, either. And I had to be real careful about women and girls. Their menfolk were all right with me singing, but they didn’t want me hanging around after. I weren’t what you’d call good marriage prospects. And you know how girls act around me, you’ve seen it here.”

Restil nodded. “Did you figure that out on your own?”

He laughed. “Me? I’m a blockhead. No, Harcort warned me when I was about twelve and not a cute little anymore. Gave me a big long lecture about it, then kept an eye on me on top of that, and smacked me when he thought I might be flirting. That’s another reason I didn’t much want to stick around.”

“So you were out on a job—”

He nodded. “Like I said, went further than usual, took most of the day to get there, and I was looking for a barn or at least a haystack to pass out in. Finally found a woodcutter’s hut. Was practicing before I passed out, and that’s when Lythe turned up and—” He shook his head and sighed heavily. “Turned my world upside-down. And I had about a mark, a little more, just enough time to explain what was going to happen, and then I dropped off cold. When I woke up, I didn’t know what to think, because she was still there, she’d been watching me all night, she even had food for the both of us. Then she explained her curse, and it was her turn—”

“Then what?” Restil asked. “How on earth did you find the Hawkbrothers? How on earth did you travel when one of you was asleep all the time?”

“They found us. Dunno how, but it was that very sunset. I’d never seen the like—well, you know how they dress! Thought I was in a song myself, first I meet this girl, and she’s . . . it was like lightning hit me, then she has a curse too, and then this outlandish bunch of people show up jabbering nonsense, then I pass out, and the next thing I know, we’re in the Vale and I can understand their gobbledegook. Which . . . wasn’t so bad when I calmed down. Can’t beat their food. They were plenty nice to us, explained all about how I was a Gifted Bard, said they were going to try and help, and if they couldn’t, they’d pass us along to someone who had different magic. And meanwhile, I learned their songs, and told ’em all about all the villages I knew.” He broke off bits of a roll and ate it slowly. “Wouldn’t have minded staying, but it was . . . it was weird. And this lifebond thing. I dunno what to do about it. I mean, I want to be with her every single moment, and I don’t hardly know anything about her. Anyway, they kept me pretty busy, figured out they couldn’t help, asked me if I minded being passed on. I figured better not make ’em angry, so I said yes, and they said good, and here we are.” He finished the roll and took another. “I like it better here. I mean, lessons and instruments and all. It’s not as strange, even though the food isn’t as fancy.” His face lit up. “I never knew there was so much to know about music!” he enthused. “And I can do things with it, or I will once I learn how! I’m only supposed to try with my teacher, and I can see how that’s the way it’s got to be, but it’s like getting presents every day!” Then his face fell a little. “I keep trying to cheer Lythe up, telling her all about it, but she doesn’t seem to understand.”

“Ah,” Restil said, as everything fell in place for him. “Well. Let me tell you a little bit about women in general, and Lythe in particular . . . . ”

After a very few moments, whatever Rothas had planned to do after lunch had been forgotten. As Restil had deduced . . . Rothas was about as innocent, well-meaning, and blundering as a puppy. He thought he was engaging with her. He was using his Gift on himself, because he’d been told that he was making everyone around him unhappy when he was unhappy, so the depression he felt because all they could have was a limited time together was partly mitigated, but of course, he wasn’t using it on Lythe because he’d been told not to use it on other people. He also didn’t understand that nonstop chatter about pleasures she couldn’t take part in was not going to make her feel anything but left out. Restil patiently explained everything to him, or at least, did his best. Rothas hung on his every word, nodding vigorously in agreement the entire time.

“So you see,” Restil concluded about mid-afternoon. “Besides all the other things, both of you are in the position where you know almost nothing about each other, with a lifebond that’s—well, it’s acting like parents betrothing you, and you got no say in it. It’s confusing, it’s irritating—hellfires, it’s maddening. But you have a lot more to keep yourself busy than she does, so up until now, all she’s had is time to brood.”

Rothas heaved a huge, sad sigh. “I thought I was helping.”

“Of course you did. Your intentions were kind. But now you know, so this evening, I suggest you try something different. Ask her about her. And . . . I’ll just go out on a limb and say it’s all right if you use a little of your Gift to try and cheer her up. If anyone objects, you can tell them I gave you permission. All right?” Restil smiled reassuringly, and Rothas slowly nodded.

“I’ll do that.” He sucked on his lower lip. “I reckon I’ll make up a song about her. Girls always like that.”

“Yes. Yes, they do,” Restil agreed, and stood up, taking the now-empty basket with him. “I look forward to hearing it.”

Rothas chuckled. “So do I!”