Page 6 of The Bard: A Story

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  Silliane sat there and stared out at his audience when his story was done. The group had grown from when he had started. Often when he told his stories he lost all track of his surroundings and telling a story of Glorianna, especially this one, he knew he was going to lose himself. He scanned the crowd. It was about three times the size from when he had started. Almost half were adults and one in particular grabbed his attention with a smile.

  The man stood in the back, leaning against a post. He had dirty blonde hair and the slightly pointed ears of another half breed. He wore black traveling leathers and had a faded black cloak over his shoulders, the hood thrown back. The hint of a long bladed knife was at his hip beneath the cloak.

  “What happened to the sorceress?” came a child’s call from the small crowd.

  “Yes,” came another, “what happened, grandfather?”

  “Ahh,” Silliane’s reply came. “That is another story for another time. Look at the sun, it is low and wanting to go to bed. That and your parents will have my hide if I keep you out after dark. So now run along and some other time I will tell you of the fair Glorianna.”

  He waved and hugged every child as they left and shook the hands of the parents who had stayed behind to hear his tale. Then his attention was brought back to the black clad stranger and that smile of his crept back.

  “Brinn,” he greeted as he pulled his carving blade back out of its sheath. “What brings you to these parts?”

  “Well, ‘grandfather’,” the black clad stranger began.

  Then, neither one of them could hold back any longer as they both broke out in a fit of laughter. Brinn approached and placed a foot on the steps of the porch in front of Silliane.

  “By the One God,” Brinn began, “I never thought I see THE Bard sitting and playing old man for the children of a town.”

  “That’s just because you never come around anymore,” Silliane returned. “Off probably on some fool’s errand for your honor’s sake.”

  “Usually,” Brinn answered knowing that Silliane knew him too well. “How about a drink, or doesn’t this backwater town have anything besides water?”

  “One of the best taverns in the county,” Silliane answered. “Come on and let me buy you a drink.”

  The two friends walked down the dusty street to the stares of the townsfolk. Most had smiles for them but a few frowned. It was a small town and strangers were usually harbingers of doom or just thieves that made them think of locking their doors. Dressed in black, Brinn didn’t inspire any confidence in the townsfolk. But seeing him walking and laughing with “grandfather” caused a few to second guess their misgivings. They entered the tavern together and found a table near the back. Ales were ordered before they got down to business.

  “I miss you old friend,” Brinn began. “I miss our travels.”

  “I miss you, too,” Silliane began. “I especially miss your sister.”

  “Yes,” Brinn answered. “I miss Glorianna, too.”

  A quiet broke out around the table as the two friends took drinks together and stared off in to space.

  “I think your age is getting to you though,” Brinn said breaking the awkward silence with a smile. “200 years?”

  “It was all for the dramatics,” Silliane said with his own smile and a wave of his hand. “Besides, you never know who is truly listening in on my stories. If the wrong ears heard my stories…”

  “I know,” Brinn replied with another drink. “Just the two of us have enough outstanding enemies. I can’t imagine how many more you have by yourself, old man.”

  Silliane smiled.

  “Old man?” he replied. “I’m only 150 years older than you cub. So what does bring you here?”

  “Old memories and a few new ones,” Brinn replied. “Besides, I might be able to answer that first girl’s question.”

  “Which one?” Silliane wondered aloud and then paused and creased his eyebrows. “What happened to Glorianna?”

  Brinn smiled over his mug.

  *****

 
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