Song Magick Read Online Free PDF Page A

box at
the front of the wagon. Inside were a few items of jewelry; one was
a silver-chased copper cuff that would cover the marks completely.
She slipped the bracelet over her wrist.
    Locating soft leather gillies, she dropped
barefoot out of the wagon into the dew-laden grass, shoes dangling
by their laces from her hand. There were no signs of the previous
night’s events; except for Mithrais’ weapons and cloak beside the
circle of stones housing the ashes of the campfire, it was as if it
had never happened.
    “Good morning.” Mithrais hailed her as he
returned from the stream with a pail of water for Bessa.
    Telyn shook her head in wonder. She had
thought him beautiful the previous evening, but those pale, green
eyes were even more startling against the sun-browned face by
daylight. He was younger than she had thought at first, perhaps not
much more than her own age. His serious demeanor and air of command
had made him seem older.
    She realized she had been staring too long
when Mithrais’ brow furrowed as she studied him.
    “Lady Bard?”
    “Please call me Telyn.” She was disconcerted
by the strength of her attraction to him, a faint blush creeping up
her cheeks. “I was just envying those Tauron tricks of endurance
that allow you to go without sleep.” She yawned in
demonstration.
    “We seldom sleep on patrol. I’m used to it.”
Mithrais set the pail in front of the horse, and Bessa snuffled
greedily over it before drinking.
    Setting her shoes on the nearest wheel of the
wagon, Telyn opened the box beneath the seat and checked her
instruments, then removed a dagger and a belt from the box. She
frowned at it a moment before girding it on resolutely, moving the
pommel of the dagger to the small of her back, where it wouldn’t
interfere with her playing but would be in easy reach. She glanced
toward Mithrais, who was watching her arm herself, displaying an
expression of approval.
    “Your sword is there.” Mithrais indicated the
scabbard hanging from the side of the wagon.
    “Thank you.” Telyn moved it closer to the
front of the wagon, where it could be drawn from a seated position
if necessary. “Where is your comrade?” she asked, realizing the
redheaded warden was absent.
    “Aric is taking a bearing. I sent him back on
patrol at sunrise.”
    Telyn made a small noise of revulsion when
her bare foot came in contact with the cold, slimy lump of the
bloody tunic she had discarded by the wagon. She picked it up
gingerly by the collar. “I hope Riordan still employs a laundress,”
she muttered in disgust.
    “You defended yourself well. You didn’t tell
me you were a warrior bard.” Mithrais’ voice was quietly respectful
as he watched her.
    “The Royal Bards are trained as soldiers in
case there is ever need to accompany the King into battle.” Telyn
rolled up the tunic and stuffed it hastily into a basket hanging on
the outside of the wagon. “What did you do with the bodies?”
    “We gave them to the Wood. It was a long
winter, and the wolves will know what to do.” His eyes flashed,
looking almost wolf-like himself.
    Telyn sat down by the circle of stones to put
on her shoes. She was unable to find the appropriate words of
gratitude, and it bothered her. Bards were known for their quick
wit as well as their song magic, and here she was, as tongue-tied
as any shy village maiden with a crush. She finished tying the
laces, wrapped her arms around her knees and sighed.
    “Mithrais, if you and Aric had not been
nearby, I would be dead. I don’t know how to repay such a
debt.”
    He shook his head at her as he leaned against
a young tree, arms crossed casually over his chest. “There’s no
need. The Tauron patrol these roads for that very reason. The deep
Wood seems to attract violent men who either seek to hide from
justice or to relieve unwary travelers of their purses.”
    “Even with the haunted groves?” Telyn
attempted to joke.
    “Even so!” Mithrais replied to her jest in
all