Marcy guffawed. “You haven’t heard that story? I thought you knew everything there is to know out in the big wide world!”
“Even a bard has his blind spots,” Taliesin admitted. “So, what’s this about the princess and a dragon?”
Marcy leaned on the bar and grinned at him. “You’re a bit young to remember this, but nineteen years ago on the day Her Highness, Princess Rhiannon, was born, the king led an army to stop some invaders from the north. The story goes that when he got there, a witch had already blown up the whole of the Trebolc invaders and threatened to slaughter the king’s men too. In exchange for sparing them, she demanded his daughter marry that dragon on her nineteenth birthday.”
His brow furrowed. “A witch? Which one?”
“No one knows for sure, but if you ask me, it’s probably that Dragon Witch. If it’s to do with dragons, it’s gotta be her.”
Taliesin glanced at Rhiannon. “Why haven’t you told me this story?” he asked. “You know a bard in the boonies never hears the best the capital has to offer.”
Rhiannon averted her gaze. “I...er...”
“Now, now,” Marcy said, “that’s no way to treat sweet Anna. Just for that”—she pushed the plate of chicken away from Taliesin and toward Rhiannon—“you don’t get any chicken. Especially since you stole her food before. Don’t think I didn’t spot you.”
The bard chuckled. “You caught me red-handed. Please don’t call the constable on me.”
“I’ll let it slide.” Marcy wagged her finger at him. “But only this time.”
When Marcy walked away to handle another group that had just entered the pub, Taliesin winked behind her back. “Take your time. I need to play a few more tunes or my audience might revolt.” A cheer rose from the crowd when he picked up his fiddle and returned to his spot of honor.
Rhiannon and her bard spent an hour at the pub, and another half besides. People begged for more tunes as they threw coins at his feet to bribe him into staying. “One more round!” they pleaded, and once he indulged them, they urged him to do so again. After the third encore, he bowed with a performer’s flourish and insisted that he must go.
“I’m afraid my Anna and I must depart,” he informed them. “Thank you so much for being a wonderful audience.”
Taliesin stooped to collect the coins and safely stow his instrument. A few from his audience approached, asking for the latest news and gossip from his travels. He gave a rundown in return for another generous tip. One young woman pulled at his sleeve, begging him to join her friends for a drink, but he politely declined.
“I have a lady waiting for me,” he said with a teasing lilt. The young woman followed his gaze to Rhiannon and pouted. “I can’t afford to dawdle, lest I make us late for the next leg of our journey.”
The pair left the tavern with a heavier purse than when they entered. Taliesin looked pleased as punch with the result. Rhiannon glanced back at the folks waving in the tavern.
“Is it always like this?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Add music to any pub and they get a little rowdy.”
But Rhiannon couldn’t exactly call that rowdy. Jovial and noisy, perhaps, but certainly not rowdy. She picked up the pace to keep in step beside him. A dead silence loomed on the horizon of the conversation. She searched for something to say. “Your playing sounded wonderful.”
“That means a lot coming from you, Miss Sofia,” he replied. She thought she saw the slightest tinge of red to his cheek, but he quickly looked away toward a large shopfront. His steps slowed. “Did you still want to exchange your possessions for capital?”
Rhiannon followed his gaze to the pawnshop. “Do you think it’s safe to do so here?”
“They probably haven’t alerted anyone out this way just yet, and I know the owner well enough. John spends a lot of time at the pub. He’ll keep quiet should anyone ask after you.”
Rhiannon held her basket close. “Then I probably should. I can’t rely on you the whole way.” How much would her jewelry fetch her anyway? A couple of gold pieces? A thousand? She’d never thought about the value before.
Mistaking her dithering for reticence to part with precious treasures, Taliesin placed a hand on her shoulder. “I really don’t mind if you rely on me. Those are dear to you, aren’t they? You should keep them. Believe me when I say that I can afford—”
She shook her head. “They aren’t that important to me. I just don’t know what a fair price would be for them.”
Taliesin chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. “If you’d like, I could handle it, but only if you’re comfortable with that. I wouldn’t want to force you.”
Did she trust him enough to handle her money? He’d been so honest with her, but that didn’t change the fact that she hardly knew him. “I think I would rather try to handle it myself?”
“I’ll still come in with you. Just in case.”
Inside, the store smelled strongly of tobacco smoke. Rhiannon coughed, and her eyes stung. Through the haze, she spotted a chubby man with a dusty gray beard and stringy hair. “Evening,” he said around his pipe. More smoke billowed from his mouth to accompany the words. “Don’t got nothing new instrument-wise. Nobody’s passing through.”
“I think you mean ‘afternoon’ there, John,” Taliesin replied, “and I’m not here about instruments today. Do you have a minute to appraise some jewels?”
The man raised a bushy eyebrow. “Again? Where does a bard like you keep finding those things?”
“Not me. This lovely lady has one she’d like to sell.”
Rhiannon dug through her belongings and found the smallest of the pieces she’d packed: a pair of pearl earrings. “How much can I get for these?”
John gave them a cursory once over. Gruffly, “Best I can do is five silver pieces.”
Taliesin plucked one from his hand and peered more closely. “Are you sure about that? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen saltwater pearls like these go wholesale for a gold a piece. Set the way they are, shouldn’t she get a little more? Say, three gold pieces an earring?”
“You trying to rob me blind, boy?” But John didn’t sound angry. If anything, he seemed to take pleasure in the challenge. “I’ll do nine silvers for both.”
“Two gold pieces an earring.”
“I’ll do two for the both of them, final offer. Take it or leave it.”
Taliesin looked to Rhiannon. “Does two sound fair to you?”
She licked her dry lips. “I don’t know,” she admitted. If the pearls alone really were going for a single gold piece, then two for the pair only covered the pearls. “Can’t you do more?”
“Take it or leave it, Miss.” The man chewed on the end of his pipe as he looked her over. “You aren’t from around these parts, are you? We don’t have the money for fancy jewelry. I’ll have these in the shop for years until some traveling noble wanders on through, and that’s only if they come into my shop. I’ll be taking a loss on those.”
“Poppycock,” Taliesin said. “I know you trade goods with your brother in Portsmouth. You’ll just get him to buy them, and he can sell them for more.”
“Still need to get ’em there. You’ve heard about that wyvern over by Monsain, haven’t you? Really mucking things up.”
“Again with the wyvern,” mumbled Taliesin. He combed his fingers through his dark bangs. “We’re heading that way. I’ll see if I can’t handle the wyvern. Can you do three gold for the earrings knowing that?”
Rhiannon’s mouth fell open as she gawked at the bard. The shopkeeper didn’t seem to think anything of this statement. He only stroked his beard. “I can do that. But only if I’m not paying you for the wyvern thing.”
“We’ll need to do something about that anyway if we want to pass through. I’ll consider a fair price on the earrings payment enough.”
The old man eyed Taliesin warily. Still, much to Rhiannon’s alarm, it did not look like the shopkeeper disbelieved Taliesin capable of keeping his word. Rather, the suspicion stemmed more from the low cost. “Fine. You do good work. That thing’ll be gone by the end of the week.”
The lockbox clicked open, and he dropped three gold coins on the counter. “Now get going. I want that wyvern out of there as soon as possible.”
Taliesin deftly palmed the coins. “Pleasure doing business with you, John.” He passed the money to Rhiannon.
“Feh. Just take care of it. Don’t make me regret giving you the extra coin.”
Rhiannon couldn’t find the words to ask what that exchange was about until they reached the carriage station. She could only stare at her bardic escort, boring holes in the back of his head as she reevaluated the man before her. If he could take out a wyvern, maybe his promise in Fae wasn’t as ridiculous as it had initially seemed.
He glanced back at her. “Copper for your thoughts?”
She traded his question for her own. “How are you going to handle the wyvern?”
Taliesin smiled. “Trade secret, I’m afraid. Just know that I’ll be able to handle it without any inconvenience to you.”
“But—”
“There is no need to worry yourself over me. I know what I can and cannot handle, and a single wyvern is well within my abilities.”
Just what kind of bard had she fallen in with?