Off Center (The Lament) (4 page)

Pran
gently patted Roy on the arm, not letting her hand linger, but also not being gruff
about it. After all, they were sharing a room, and most people were kind of just
acting like that meant they were doing things together anyway, weren't they? She
hadn't been, but Pran hadn't been running around telling everyone that she
wasn't
either, and neither had her roommate. She was a Bard after all, and even if she
wanted to be chaste and celibate, the others would tease the boy if he was known
to be that close to her and not managing the task. For his part however, he'd been
very gentlemanly so far. Polite, and not peeking at her overly when she was changing
clothes, or anything.

"Let's
get those men back then." Since no one called out to them, even to tell them
to hurry and not dawdle in the village, it seemed like they were doing what was
expected. Not that the little hole had anything worth lingering over. That was a
mean thing for her to be thinking, but it was true, after a fashion.

The
place was a mud pit, at least this time of year, and no one living there seemed
to have thought anything of it at all. Then, they were distracted, so that could
be it, really. They were in a forest though, a patch of evergreens that made the
place a lot less desolate than it could have been. The rain was just starting again
as they stepped out, which meant running back to get some slicks for everyone. They
were just pieces of oiled cloth, but they worked to keep the worst of the water
off of them and the men in the back didn't complain about the humble nature of the
things.

Pran
didn't get one, since she was moving the whole time and it wouldn't have stayed
on. The rifle would have to be dried when she got back too, or it could rust or
something. No one had ever mentioned that being the case, but it made sense, didn't
it? The barrel was a thick and sturdy iron thing, and while it was well oiled as
well, too much water might get into the workings and it had served her too well
so far to neglect.

She
circled the wagon, trying to actually be aware the whole time. It slowed them down,
which meant the trip back was as slow as the one out, and that she probably covered
three times what the others did. That was the job though. The task that she'd been
set.

It
wasn't until they were in the center of the little village that she stopped, the
rain pelting her hard enough to actually be uncomfortable against her face, like
stinging needles, instead of mere rain drops. It wasn't cold enough for snow, yet,
but as early as it was in the year it still seemed like they were being promised
something in the way of extreme weather. Being out in it made everything seem more
intense than watching it from inside a warm dormitory.

Pran
looked at the oldest man, and then at his wound, which seemed not to be bleeding
too much. The man caught her looking and then shook his head at her. It was rueful,
rather than being accusing.

"Walked
into that one, didn't I? They said your name was Bard?" He didn't seem to think
that too strange, as if it were a normal girl's name, which it wasn't. Then she
got it and rubbed her nearly bald head. There was no more than a bit of dark fuzz
there after all. He thought she was a boy, she bet.

"Bard
Pran. As in Apprentice Bard."

The
man smiled.

"Ah,
sorry then boy, I thought you might be a young Guardian given the black and vanishing
tricks. Taking Bards young then, this year?" He was just being conversational,
and Pran didn't really feel like correcting him. After all, it would probably make
him feel bad, having been calling her a boy, and that didn't serve her at all, in
the moment.

"I'm
on my way to my first Apprentice post. So that's pretty close to being true."
She smiled, letting her cheeks dimple a bit, as Roy spoke, not sounding amused at
all. Or upset about her being called a boy, which probably spoke as to what she
currently looked like, didn't it? Her own friend just
assumed
that she was
pretending to be a boy or something? That said a lot about what he thought about
her, didn't it? That she lied so often he didn't bother to correct anything, in
case she had a plan?

The
young man sat with the leather reigns in his hands, and smiled lazily.

"Pran
is going to be the High Councilor's new Apprentice. That's pretty much the top position
for a Bard her age. You should have her and Bard Benjamin in to play while they're
here. I hear tell that they're open to trade in goods, wood and gut, maybe glue,
if you have any? You live in a well provided area, wood wise." He glanced over
at the green, but the old injured man snorted.

"Pine.
I can trade some hard apple plank too, for say, ten songs? Some news? That's for
all that want to attend, not just me. I don't know if any have gut, but I'll put
word around, if you're willing?" His eyes looked at her, and were a nice gray
color. A bit watery, but then, he was standing in the rain. Hers probably were too.

"I
can guarantee myself. Perhaps tomorrow evening? Right now Roy and I need to find
the head person here, I have a message to pass?"

That
got the younger man that had attacked them , the one with the horrible mustache,
to point helpfully at the man they were talking to.

"Sam
Oldman is our headman here. Has been for near on, what is it Sam? Twenty-years?
Before I was born at least." Since the fellow didn't seem much older than Roy,
that made sense.

The
older man tried to grunt, then stopped doubling over a bit.

"That
hurts a bit. I'm Sam.
Milner
, not 'Oldman'. The callow youth around here
just lack manners. Is this a secret message? Perhaps a warning for us to run, lest
we end in the camps, breaking rocks for what we done?"

Pran
shrugged.

"What
did you do? Stepped out at the wrong time? Forgot to mention you were coming to
help? I don't think our Judge has a problem with that. Our Guardians just want to
do a food and energy inventory?" She nearly added that she didn't know what
that was, but the Headman smiled, as if the idea made him happy.

"Ah!
Good. We're set, but it never hurts to have them peek in. At times they free up
stores, which makes the winter easier for all. I won't be telling them no, if they
want to look around a bit. I'll have that plank, apple and pine, ready for you,
and ask about the other things then. Do you know the name of the Guardian? That
big fellow that you were with?" The other men all stood there, including the
one that she'd grazed in the leg, who had a white piece of cloth tied around it.
The slug had been removed, but neither had gotten stitches for their wounds. No
pain killers either, which Pran sort of figured was Doctor Millis's way of telling
them they'd messed up.

She
shook her head, but managed to smile.

"No.
Guardian Mara and I will be here for that. You'll like her. She's got a good sense
of humor. Guardian Clark will make certain that Will Butcher doesn't go anywhere.
Or, you understand, end up harmed before the trial. They take that seriously."
She wasn't trying to rub it in, but her eyes went hard, and she glared a tiny bit,
anyway.

Enough
that Oldman shied away a few steps.

"I...
understand."

Which
they all probably did. Anger had driven them to do what they had, not guilt or even
fear. It would fade in time, for most of them. Probably not the parents. At least
that was always in the stories about things like that. The mother and father would
probably hold their anger about it longer than the child would. She hadn't been
around enough of that sort to know if it was true or not. Parents were a mystery
to her. Real ones at least. She knew the stories about them well enough.

Roy
saved her from seeming like a complete bully then, smiling suddenly.

"You're
in for a real treat then. Both Bards are young and fresh, but still skilled. We
might have some things to trade as well. The ship I mean, if anyone wants to bring
some things to compare and haggle over? If you have a hall, we can set up there?"

Sam
the Oldman nodded and winced, a single finger coming out to point at a small building
that seemed like it might be a large and drafty barn.

"It
isn't much, but the roof's mainly sound, last I checked. Benches and a few tables
to lay things on?"

That
seemed to be a good enough set-up, and Roy leaned over to shake with the man, only
to pull back before the fellow had to try and reach.

"Or
we can do that later, when it won't be so painful?"

That
got a laugh, and Pran sighed, feeling bad about the wound now. The man seemed nice
enough, so far. Oh, he'd probably set the whole town on them later, but if not,
then she probably could have handled the whole thing earlier with some yelling and
bluster. Shooting them, even with her tiny and not that dangerous weapon had been
too much it seemed.

She
pointed a bit, "sorry about that. I should have-"

The
other man that had been shot just looked at his leg and shook his head slowly.

"Don't
let it worry at you, boy. What if we'd been what we
intended,
and a real
threat? You'd been given a job and an honorable one, for a person so young. A Bard
too? That's hard to credit. I'll be coming to see you perform, if the rain breaks,
just to see that you aren't having us on." It didn't sound all that mean or
angry, and since she'd shot him, he had right to it.

It
took a few seconds to get Roy going, since he had to turn around by circling a building
and the mud was deep enough that the boy attacker ran to point out the best place
to do it. Pran moved along with them, trying to move like the Guardians did the
whole time, her mind aware of what was going on around her, instead of trying to
map out her next day's performance.

When
the young man waved at them, they went back the way they came, the road improving
a lot as soon as they got out of the high traffic area.

Roy
didn't speak until they were almost all the way back, and when he did, his voice
was pitched not to carry too much.

"So,
wood for your instruments. I'd say you owe me, wouldn't you?"

She
was instantly cautious. Yes, she was willing to trade her body for the wood, since
she needed it, and protecting her virtue too closely wouldn't help her now really,
since she'd been minutes away from a life of prostitution at one point already,
and Roy knew that. It would be hard to claim she was too good for him that way.
Insulting to him, given everything. It wasn't true for one thing. The fact was,
she just didn't know what to do that way overly. She could lay there and grunt while
he finished his pleasure, but that was about all she knew to do.

"If
it's enough wood, then yes." She kept moving and he didn't speak for long enough
that it felt like he might be working his nerve up to suggest something more intense
than a few minutes in her bunk after lights out.

When
he spoke though, she nearly laughed.

"Well,
I have wash duty this week. Now, I'm not claiming that me speaking up is worth you
doing it
all
in trade, and it's only the Captain's and the Mates, first and
second, but if you'd help with it, that would be a fair trade I think? Or, well,
probably not really, since I already owe you a load of wash, but-"

When
she glanced at him he was a bit red in the cheek, which hardly seemed like he should
be at all.

Not
stopping, Pran scanned the woods on either side of the road. They were moving a
lot faster now, not having injured people in the wagon. The tan mare whinnied and
flicked her tail, like there was something there to bother her. It was only the
wind though.

"Can
we do it when we're in the air?" It really was a lot easier then, since they
had a dedicated room for it.

"Of
course we can. Captain Mina insists on it. So, you'll help?" He sounded hopeful.

Pran
smiled and kept moving, not saying anything until they were almost up to The Lament,
which was starting to sway a bit, which got Roy to stare at it.

The
young man rubbed at his damp cheek.

"Crud.
I bet there's a storm coming. I hate that. This is turning cold too."

"I
noticed that. I'll help." She winked at him and then sighed. "Since I
thought you were going to ask for sex, it seems a pretty fair trade. A little laundry
isn't that big of a deal."

Roy,
who blushed over asking for help with his assignment, just chuckled at her.

"Oh,
I wouldn't
trade
for that. I'm actually decent enough at it that I don't
have to. The only reason that I haven't asked if you wanted to already, is that
you've been too exhausted all the time. Well, that and the fact that apparently
you're a boy. That's really not my thing you know." He pointed to the oiled
cloths, and when she took them from the back, all except the one he had wrapped
around himself, which had probably kept him a lot warmer and drier than she was
at the moment, he pulled the wagon around toward the back of the craft, where it
was stored.

The
horses actually lived on board all the time too. It was a lot different than she
would have thought that way.