Deman and Fierlan were growing tired of each other's company and soon, arguing over whether their battle was Helm's Deep or not, they fell to quarreling. Soon their voices raised to shouts, and a few inside the Inn began peering out the windows to see what was going on. Maercwen was by Mihtig's side in an instant, putting one hand over each mouth. "Hush you two," she said. "You're annoying the guests."
They did fall silent then, so silent that their breathing could just barely be heard. In this almost overpowering silence, a song reached the ears of the three children. Maercwen caught her breath, then shook her head. It was probably the bard that had gone into the Inn. She had heard him singing. But, no, surely the song came from the road that led up to the Inn, and surely the voice was familiar.
Eyes dancing, Maercwen whispered something in the ears of her twin brothers and they scrambled off Mihtig and listened also, tense and ready to start running down the road.
There's a piercing wintry breeze
blowing through the budding trees
and I buttoned up my coat to keep me warm.
And those three lines were enough for the children. With cries of delight they flew down the road, Mihtig trotting very serenely after them. A man, who looked young but was in truth middle-aged, trudging up the road paused and hesitated when he saw them, and almost looked as though he were going to flee, but decided not to. He ceased singing and, laughing, caught the twins as they threw themselves on him with screams of, "Uncle Liornung!" They did not wish to be hugged though, and pulled away from him with ferocious energy, each trying to speak to him at the same time. He nodded absently and took Maercwen's hands, kissing her cheek. "And how are you, pretty little one?" he asked. He did not wait for an answer though, but took the twins by the hand and began bringing them back towards the Inn, questioning Maercwen as he went.
"Is Bethberry still the Innkeeper? Ah, Miss Aylwen is now then, eh? Lovely. I came, you know, just so I might speak with her about playing my fiddle tonight at your little party. Perhaps I might even sing a song or two, if she'll allow me. Where is she, for I must speak to her about it?"
"She is inside, trading songs with a bard," Maercwen replied.
"Ah." Liornung said no more, but blushed very deeply. He had a very deep respect for real bards as he himself was only a 'wandering fiddler,' and he always found himself madly shy whenever in the presence of one. "Well, perhaps I shall go in and listen a bit... tell your father I'm here now, would you?" The twins hastened to do so. "And you, Maercwen, can come with me and if they aren't singing but merely talking we can also talk and I'll tell you tales about the Little Folk and perhaps if you talk to me about the Little Folk I'll be able to come up with a song about them to sing tonight."
|