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The bard waited for the laughter to die down, then sang:
The big city drew him with promise of fame
And of fortune beyond an elf's dreams,
So he set out with high hopes and soon enough came To the city of Urik, it seems.
But what he found there wasn't quite what he'd planned
When he left all the comforts of home.
No, instead of the riches he'd heard he would find,
He wound up on the streets, all alone.
Now that in itself wouldn't be such a fright
For an elf as resourceful as him,
Save for one crucial error he made that first night,
When he misplaced his brain at an inn.
The bard had to wait nearly a minute for the laughter to die down before he could continue, but each verse drew more merriment as he detailed Galar's descent- through swindles and gambling losses-from cocky freeman to a lone elfin heavy debt, fighting as a gladiator for money. At last, hounded by creditors and fearing for his life, Galar had used the last of his money in a desperate scheme to sneak out of the city undetected: he had bought his way onto a slave caravan leaving for Tyr. No one would think to look for him in the slave hold, and once they were free of the city, the wagon master would release him.
Of course the wagon master had taken his money and left him in the slave hold, where he met Kayan, who had been taken there when a powerful lover had become jealous of her attention to Urik's king Hamanu.
That's not true! Kayan mindsent to Jedra. I was enslaved because I refused to use my psionic healing power to kill a man.
I know that, Jedra replied, but the bard doesn't so he had to make something up. This makes a better tale anyway.
So you say, Kayan sent. She scowled as the song continued to portray her as a reckless wanton who had slept her way to the bottom of society. A few stanzas later Jedra found himself agreeing with Kayan when the bard began detailing how he wound up enslaved. The bard portrayed him as a thief and a brawler who had finally met his match, rather than as a curious young man who had accidently stumbled upon a magical talisman that a real mage had sold him into slavery to obtain. Jedra wasn't sure he wanted the truth to be known, but he didn't want everyone to think he was a thief, either.
He tried to listen psionically to find what the elves really thought of him, but he just didn't have that power. He could send, but not eavesdrop. He could sense when someone was watching him, though, and although everyone was doing so now, he detected one source of interest much stronger than the rest. He looked across the fire toward the source of the sensation, expecting to see Rayna, the woman who had propositioned him earlier, but instead he found Sahalik staring back at him, his face as cold as the night.
Oh, wonderful. Of all the people to be on the bad side of, Sahalik was the absolute worst. Jedra looked away, careful not to make eye contact again throughout the rest of the song.
Fortunately, the bard had exaggerated the number of stanzas as well. He was only up to forty or so when he finished with a rousing description of Galar's rescue and the heroics of the Jura-Dai warriors. Sahalik figured prominently in the end of the tale, and Jedra was relieved to see a crowd of well-wishers gather around him afterward.
Galar took Jedra and Kayan aside after the song and led them toward the tents. "My apologies for not thinking of it earlier," he said, "but now I will find you some spare clothing and a place to sleep."
"Thank you," Kayan said, her words nearly lost in a wide yawn.
Jedra was afraid that he and Kayan would be imposing on Galar all night, but the elf led them to an enormous tent wherein dozens of elves had already rolled out sleeping mats and were snoring softly. Candles glowed in protected alcoves at either end of the tent, providing just enough light to see by but not enough to keep anyone awake. In their soft light, Jedra could see that the tents, unlike the clothing the elves wore, were grayish tan, the color of sand, so they would blend in with the desert.
More sleeping mats waited in a pile near the doorway, each tucked into a knapsack with a name or a design woven into the closing flap at the top. Galar searched though the stack, pulling two knapsacks from it and handing them to his friends. They were made of heavy, durable cloth, and the mats rolled up inside them were even thicker. Both showed signs of wear along the exposed edges.
"Won't their owners miss them?" Jedra asked as Galar sorted through a basket of clothing beside the pile of bedrolls.
"Not any longer," Galar said. "These belonged to people killed in the battle. They are the property of the entire tribe now."
"Oh." Jedra looked at his knapsack again. He couldn't read the elven script, but it wouldn't have mattered if he could. He didn't know any of the people who had died today. So why did he suddenly feel reluctant to sleep on this mat?
Galar noticed his concern and said, "Do not trouble yourself. Everything has its cost, and the Jura-Dai knew that before they attacked the caravan. We all live and die for the good of the tribe; without raids such as these we would soon starve to death in the desert." He pulled a long yellow robe out of the basket and held it up to Kayan. Made for an elf, it was about three feet too long for her. "You will have to tuck a fold under the belt to avoid tripping," Galar said, "but there is plenty of cloth here to keep you warm at night, and the light color and the looseness of it will help keep you cool by day."
"That will be nice." Kayan took it from him and draped it over her shoulders. Galar pulled a light blue robe from the basket for Jedra, then waved an arm toward an unoccupied stretch of floor near one wall of the tent. "Sleep well," he said, "but not too well. We break camp at dawn." With that, he turned and left them to their rest.
They stepped gingerly over sleeping elves to the bare spot and unrolled their mats. Jedra lay back on his with an audible creaking of joints. Ok, this feels good, he mind-sent to Kayan.
