Taliesin gave Rhiannon’s shoulder a gentle shake. “We’re here,” he said.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and rubbed sleep from her eyes. “Uh huh?”
He chuckled. “Shall we find some breakfast?”
They’d only slept a few hours at the inn before Taliesin roused her. From there, he had purchased them passage on the early public carriage headed to Fieldstone, southeast of the capital. Rhiannon had dozed fitfully for what little time they’d been at the inn, and the gentle rocking of the carriage had lulled her into a halfway sort of sleep, her mind racing back to alertness far too often.
Their fellow passengers, a gaggle of older women who had visited the city for the festivities surrounding the princess’s birthday, giggled girlishly at the pair. “Ah, to be young again,” tittered one to her companions.
Even half asleep, Rhiannon felt her cheeks redden, and instinctively she hunched her shoulders. Taliesin only smiled as he helped her up from her rough wooden seat. “Let them think what they want,” he whispered while they waited for the grannies to step down ahead of them. After he made sure the way was clear, he hopped out ahead of her and offered his hand. “I suppose your family will be looking for you with a man, then?”
“N-No,” she stuttered. It was the truth. More likely, they’d pin the blame for her disappearance on the witch or the dragon.
“Then this will work out better for both of us. They’ll search for a young lady traveling alone, not one with a paramour.”
Her cheeks grew hotter. “Can’t we tell people we’re siblings?”
He took her by the hand and waist and swept her down from the carriage. “We hardly look a thing alike. Now let’s grab a bite to eat. I’m starving.”
Taliesin led the way from the carriage stop to a nearby pub. Despite the early hour, folks packed the place from wall to wall. “Sorry!” called a matronly woman loaded down with a dozen or so plates on trays. “We’re full up at the— oh! If it isn’t Taliesin!”
Heads swiveled toward the door, and Rhiannon hid behind the bard. Taliesin took it in stride, giving a dramatic bow before shrugging his instrument case off his shoulder. “Are you sure you can’t squeeze us in for a few minutes? We’ll eat and be on our way.”
“Nonsense!” The woman hurriedly divvied up the plates on the two tables to either side of her. “You can stay as long as you’d like. There’s always space for our favorite musician.” She wiped the grease from her hands onto her apron and dodged between the crowded tables. Spotting Rhiannon, she asked, “And who might this be?”
“This is my Anna,” Taliesin replied with his charming smile. “I promised to take her with me to the Witch City next time I headed that way, and she’s holding me to it.”
“Oho! She’s in for a shock. No place like that place I hear,” laughed the woman. She gestured for them to follow her through the sea of bodies to the bar. Once there, she nudged a pair of men until they fell off their stools, seemingly still drunk from the night prior. “This okay?” she asked, already wiping crumbs from the spot with one hand and snagging the empty mugs’ handles in the other.
“What’s the big idea?”
“We weren’t done yet!”
She put a hand on her hip. “You haven’t ordered anything for the past hour. Let someone else have a chance to sit down!”
The pair of drunks opened their mouths to keep complaining, but a cheery wave from Taliesin quickly diffused the situation. Much like the woman, the drunkards lit up at the sight of him.
“Blimey! What’re you doin’ back here? Thought you were headin’ for the capital!”
“Change of plans. Anna here wants to visit the Witch City.” He gestured to Rhiannon and said, “Gentlemen, meet my sweet Anna. Anna, these are the folks I told you about. The ones who sang along with every one of my songs until they made themselves hoarse.”
The pair guffawed. “Here that, Marcy? We’re legendary! Bards are tellin’ tales of our misdeeds.”
The server, Marcy, rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” She shifted her attention to her two most recent customers. “So, what can I get for you both?”
“Whatever you have cooking is fine,” Taliesin replied smoothly. “We’re not picky.” He gestured to the corner not far from the bar. “Mind if I set up for a bit?”
Marcy chuckled. “If I said no, they’d lock me up for a loon. Have at it. I’ll wave you over when the food’s here.”
“Thank you kindly.” Taliesin left his bag with Rhiannon and headed for the spot he’d indicated. Popping the latches of his instrument’s case nearly silenced the room. All eyes trained on him while he rosined his bow and plucked the strings of his violin to test the pitch. Adjustments were made, and he tucked the instrument under his chin. Then he pulled the bow across the strings. The sweetest sound lingered in the air, followed by another note and another.
The simple act of tuning an instrument had never sounded so lovely to Rhiannon’s ears, and judging by the rapt attention of the audience around her, she wasn’t alone. When he began to play the introduction to his tune, Rhiannon hardly dared to breathe lest she interrupt the melody drifting through the air, and when he opened his mouth and sang—
Marcy raised a teasing brow. “Haven’t heard your Taliesin play before, have you?”
Rhiannon startled. “What?”
The pub keeper set a pair of plates loaded with meat and potatoes before Rhiannon. “Got that dazed look in your eye. Most everyone gets that way the first time or two they hear that boy sing.” She smiled fondly at the bard. “He’s quite good, isn’t he? Brings in crowds wherever he goes. Swear he’s descended from a siren or something.” Her attention returned to Rhiannon. Hesitantly, she asked, “He isn’t, is he?”
“Not that I know of.” Although he did speak the fairy language. Maybe there was something to this particular rumor.
“Just checking. Personally, I think it’s all a load of hooey. He’s good, but not Fair Folk good. I’ve seen him make a mistake here and there. He covers it pretty well. A professional through and through.”
She waved him over, and the third tune of the afternoon abruptly broke off. Taliesin bowed to his audience, and as they begged for more, he promised a few more ditties after he ate his fill.
“How’s the food?” he asked, pulling the barstool out.
“Delicious,” Rhiannon replied. In reality, it was far too greasy for her taste. She couldn’t afford to blow their cover, so she persevered. Even so, the best of intentions cannot make heavy food sit light in the gut.
Taliesin smiled that same charming smile he had earlier. “Then you won’t mind sharing,” he said before forking her remaining portion of meat and potatoes. “Marcy, do you have any of your roast chicken?” he called over the general hubbub.
“You’re still hungry?” the woman said in disbelief from the far side of the room.
“For Agnus’s cooking? Always.”
“Glutton,” she shot right back before abandoning her current load to the wolf pack groping for the plates. “I’ll see if he’s got any going right now.”
“Thanks,” he said as she passed. “And if you have any vegetables...”
Marcy did a double take. “You? Vegetables? I must be hearing things. Are you sick?”
He took the teasing in stride. “Anna is rather fond of them.”
When the server left, Rhiannon whispered, “You didn’t have to do all that.”
“No need to worry.” Taliesin helped himself to another potato off her plate and popped it into his mouth. He waited until he swallowed before continuing, “I would have asked for more anyway. Marcy teases about my appetite, but it’s perfectly normal.” He stole another tuber. “If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I should have thought of your preferences before ordering for us both.”
Rhiannon flushed. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “It’s all right,” she mumbled.
“It most certainly isn’t,” he replied just as easily. “Say something next time.”
Marcy returned with a generous portion of chicken breast that seeped juices onto the plate as well as a bowl of carrots in a thin broth. “We’re a little short on veggies until the delivery from Monsain arrives,” she explained apologetically as she placed the latter before Rhiannon. The other she set before Taliesin. “Things’ve had trouble getting anywhere the past few weeks.”
Taliesin perked up at this bit of news. “Oh? What’s happened in Monsain?”
“They’re saying a wyvern’s taken up residence along the roads so nothing’s coming in from the port.”
“A wyvern? Really?”
“A nasty one from the sound of it. Joshua just the other day said he had to turn back around ’cause of it. Hope the folks at the castle send someone soon. It’s hitting businesses around here pretty hard.”
“Their monster hunter extraordinaire hasn’t taken care of it?”
“Nah, too busy with bigger fish. Heard he took out a manticore a month ago and is gearing up for the dragon on Storm Bearer.”
The fork paused halfway to Taliesin’s lips. “That dragon? But it hasn’t bothered anyone since taking up residence, what, twenty years ago?”
“Heard the princess was engaged to it,” laughed the barmaid. “Seems His Majesty doesn’t want an overgrown lizard in the royal family.”
“Why on earth would the princess be engaged to a dragon?” Taliesin asked, absolutely flummoxed.