Music and Magic

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Frye’s feet practically flew atop the soft packed dirt of the open road. This was his third day along the coast and the salty air refreshed him. The morning and evening chill that the ocean brought in reminded him of home. That was both blessing and curse.

With the string of good luck over the past few days Frye felt as if he deserved a break. He’d actually sleep at an inn tonight instead of just performing and leaving. It was good for him to move quickly, but every now and then he needed a respite. His body grew weary.

This is my life. His vigor died at the thought. Run and run and never stop. A rabbit hounded by its prey.

As the sun sank closer to the horizon, no town came into view dashing his hopes of a bath and warm bed. He began to scope out the sides of the roads looking for a suitable place to camp for the night.

The farther south he went the denser the landscape became. He was used to evergreens and pines from his homeland. These trees had leaves in vivid colors, orange and red and yellow. Though they fell from the branches in droves, that also added to the beauty. He paused for a moment to take in the foreign sight.

That was when he noticed a small plume of smoke rising from a copse of trees off in the distance. Sabriea’s servants wouldn’t have lit a fire; that would be too careless. That meant travelers. Frye didn’t often feel the need to mingle with strangers but the mood struck him now. He felt no fear they would harm him. He was far from defenseless. He had a knife hidden in his belt, one in his pack, and another in his boot. On top of that, his other skills would aid where steel failed.

Frye left the road and set off through the yellowish grass that lead to the trees. He walked quietly, not wanting to give away his presence. There was a chance, no matter how slim, that it was a trap.

When he got to the cluster of trees, Frye froze. A noise reached his ears, just on the edge of hearing. Music. A lute perhaps? He started forward again, this time taking even more care to keep his footsteps muted. A voice drifted along with the music, soft and low.

At the center of the trees was a small clearing. Frye cautiously peered around a wide trunk and got a glimpse of the interior. Here, the music was just as quiet, the singer—a young man—let his tune carry for his ears only. He was alone, sitting atop a fallen branch in front of a tiny fire. The lyrics finally reached Frye.

I travel along this weary road,

Alone without company.

The winding path ahead

Is the only sight I see.

The point of my wandering

Is to prove that I’m free.

Can I win my salvation?

I’ll search endlessly.

Frye’s eyes lost sight of the copse, the fire, the singer. Instead, he looked inward, at how reflective the lyrics had been. A haunting melody filled with regret and sorrow, and just a tad bit of hope. If he hadn’t known better, he’d swear that song was about his own life.

The singer continued to strum his lute, and the music pulled Frye forward. He stepped out of the tree’s barrier and cleared his throat.

The music cut off with a screech of strings. The young man grabbed the neck of the lute like a weapon and his eyes were wide and frightened.

“Pardon me for interrupting,” Frye said, making his voice as nonchalant as possible. A lot of dealing with people successfully came from attitude. Act like you belong and usually none questioned. “I saw your fire and am in need of a campsite tonight. Do you mind if I share?”

The kid didn’t move. Maybe he was foreign? The words of the song could be no more than memorization. Frye tried again.

“I have some bread, bought this morning, and some cheese. I’ll share if you let me stay.”

That did the trick. The young man gently lowered the lute. “You have food?”

Frye reached over his shoulder into his bag and pulled out the bread nestled on top. It was wrapped in parchment. Frye unfolded the corner of the brown paper so the kid could look for himself. “See?”

The young man shrugged. “I don’t own this land. Do what you want.”

Not the answer Frye had been expecting. Still, he kept his promise and ripped the bread in half. He held the portion out to the kid.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Frye set down his bag. “I’m Frye Indori. What’s your name, kid?”

“Markle Vanrick,” he muttered. His voice barely carried the few feet separating them.

“Mackerel?” Frye asked, shrugging the thick cloak off his shoulders. For such a small fire, it gave plenty of heat.

“Markle,” he said again, louder. Then he froze, his eyes glued to Frye’s face. “Hey, you’re that dancer.”

Frye’s body grew rigid. Slowly, his fingers crept to the hilt of his belt knife.

How could this kid remember? It was impossible.

“I saw you two nights ago in Hippshaw,” the kid continued, unaware of the tension in Frye’s body. “That was when it all went bad. You danced that one dance so beautifully, but then all my money was suddenly gone and the innkeeper kicked me out. I’ve been sleeping outside at night and I ran out of food this morning.”

Realization dawned on Frye. “So you only saw my first dance?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t believe you left after the dance,” Frye muttered, more to himself.

The kid finally noticed Frye’s less-than-pleased expression. “Like I said, it was beautiful. You’re very skilled. I was just so tired, and I wanted to get to bed. It wasn’t personal.”

Frye shook his head. “It’s not that, Mackerel.”

“Markle!” the kid barked.

Frye smiled and held up his hands in apology. “Markle. Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never had anyone miss my second dance.”

“Why? Was it special?”

Frye snorted. Special? More special than Markle would know. Or remember. “Not especially. I just feel a little disappointed now, knowing I didn’t captivate my audience.”

“Sorry,” he answered, lowering his eyes.

Curious. Again it was an unexpected response. The kid acted like he’d been the one at fault. How odd.

“Don’t worry over it. I’ll just have to try harder next time. So, I’m the cause of all your woes, huh?”

“I never said that.”

“My dance must have given you bad luck.”

“I’ve had that since I was born.”

Frye examined the visible angles of Markle’s face. He actually looked like he believed that.

I’ve never met anyone like this before, Frye realized. Markle had resisted the magic of Frye’s spell and there seemed to be no reason for that.

“Go ahead and eat,” Frye said.

“Thanks. I’m not even sure how I’ll get to Grincewood. I’ve tried foraging in the shrubs, but I have no idea which berries are poisonous.”

“You’re a fisherman, aren’t you? Why not fish?”

The kid’s chin sank lower. “I don’t know how to fish.”

Frye nearly laughed at that, but was able to keep it inside. He was glad. He didn’t want to add to Markle’s suffering. Well, no more than he already had. It had been Frye who stole all Markle’s money. The kid’s current misfortune was Frye’s fault.

“Well, maybe you could try earning money in the next town.”

“Doing what? I have no skills.”

Frye gestured. “You can play that lute very well. Perform in a common room and you’d earn enough to get you to…where did you say you were going?”

“My cousin’s farm in Grincewood. But there’s no way I’d ever play my lute in front of people. I’d rather starve to death.”

“Why?”

“Because men don’t play instruments.”

“What are you talking about? I know how to play a lot of instruments.” Music and dance went hand in hand and his people used all of it in worship of Magana.

“You’re not from here. You don’t know how things work.”

That was true enough, but beside the point. “I don’t understand why you fisherfolk put so much stress on what you can or can’t do. Why can’t a man play an instrument? Why can’t a woman fish?”

“It’s what the gods say, not us.”

“My goddess, Magana, allows people to do what they love. I dance, and sing, and play music with other men and women. Well, I did.”

“You ran away, too?”

Too? So that was it. The kid had to be leaving his home because of these self-proclaimed abnormalities.

“Something like that. Listen, why don’t we make a bargain? In the next town we can perform together. We’d earn plenty of money that way.”

Markle lifted his chin and stared at Frye suspiciously. “Why would you help me?”

“Who says I’m helping you? With the two of us combined, we’ll make double the money. I’m only looking for more profit.” Plus, helping the kid in this way would ease Frye’s conscience.

“I don’t know.”

“Markle, you won’t find an easier way to get the funds necessary to get where you’re going. Besides, with me dancing, no one will be paying attention to you.”

The ghost of a grin touched Markle’s lips. “Since you put it that way…okay, I’ll do it.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, eat. I’ll get out some cheese.”