Free Wandering Lark by Laura J. Underwood Page B

handle the coin .”
    Alaric fought the urge to frown over being chided like a small child. Still, he threaded his way through the throng of bodies, Vagner staying pressed at his side as though the demon feared being separated from him.
    The bar was full occupied, and Alaric took a moment to find a way to squeeze in through the mass of men and women there. He found the barkeeper was moving up and down with swift and precise motions, taking care of several customers at a time. Upon spying a new face, the barkeeper moved over to face Alaric and smiled.
    “Good evening, sir,” he said in that melodious tongue. “How may I serve you?”
    “A room for the night,” Alaric replied. “And a meal.”
    “Would you prefer to dine down here or in private.”
    “Private, I think,” Alaric said. “I’m road weary and not in the mood for company of any save the dog.”
    The barkeeper’s lips twitched just slightly, and Alaric couldn’t help but wonder what he found so amusing about Ronan’s request. “As you will, good sir,” the barkeeper said. “Private rooms are but two silver shillings, and the meal is another six brass farthings.”
    “Two and six,” Alaric said, and he detected a hint of surprise in his own voice. “A bit steep for my purse, I fear. Why so high?”
    The barkeeper shrugged. “The common room is but twelve farthings, but you’ll get no privacy there. We’ve not raised the rates in five winters now...”
    “Outrageous,” Alaric said. He was willing to bet it had been longer than that since Ronan had been here. “I had no idea prices were so high.”
    “They’re high everywhere,” the barkeeper said with a frown.
    “Indeed,” Alaric said. “In that case, since I see that you have no entertainment for your other guests, mayhaps we can work out an agreement?”
    “What skills do you have?” the barkeeper asked.
    “ Get the harp, Lark ,” Ronan said in Alaric’s head, and Alaric opened his travel satchel to obey. He drew forth the little willow harp. “Songs and music from many lands are in my repertoire, good sir,” Ronan said to the barkeeper. With that, he directed Alaric to stroke the strings with an arpeggio. The music rang, and a number of heads rose in response.
    “Do you know dance tunes?” the barkeeper asked. “Men and women get thirsty when they dance.”
    “I’ll have them dancing up to the bar, good sir,” Alaric said.
    “We’ll see,” the barkeeper said. “Make merry, and then come to me afterwards, and I’ll see what I can arrange.”
    “As you will,” Alaric said, and Ronan indicated that Alaric should offer another pretty bow.
    What happened to food in a private room ? Alaric thought.
    “ It would appear that we will need more coin than I had in that sack if we are to survive in this land . Six brass farthings for a meal? Absurd . In my day, I could get the room and the meal for six .”
    Your day here was long ago , Alaric thought softly.
    “ Apparently ,” Ronan replied with an internal sigh. “ Ah, well, to work, Alaric . Do you remember the Fairy King’s Jig that I taught you ?”
    Quite well , Alaric said.
    “ We’ll start with that ,” Ronan decided as Alaric made for the only clear corner in the tavern to set up and play. Vagner followed and lay down at Alaric’s feet when he seated himself on a small stool there and began to pluck songs from the small harp.
    It felt good, at least, for the moment, to forget why he was here and let the music take his troubles away.
     
     
     

NINE
     
    The student halls of Dun Gealach were much too quiet in Wendon’s opinion. It was not that he missed the constant stirrings Fenelon Greenfyn was apt to manage with his rogue spell casting. Quite frankly, he was glad to see the insane upstart was in shackles in the tower.
    He would have been there long ago, were I in charge.
    Still, without Fenelon’s vibrant presence, there was an air of gloom that hovered like the mist on the mountains. No one was