Amanvah laughed, a musical sound he heard all too infrequently. Is that real, Rojer wondered, or just part of the mask?
‘It cannot harm you, husband. The evil will of Nie dies with the alagai, but their bones continue to carry the magic of Ala, made by Everam long before Nie created the abyss to pervert it.’
Rojer pursed his lips. ‘Still …’
‘The bone is little more than a thin slice,’ Amanvah said. ‘Bound in wards and solid gold.’
‘What does it do?’ Rojer asked.
Amanvah smiled so widely Rojer could see it through her translucent veil, and even to his practised eye, it seemed truly genuine and sent a thrill through him.
‘Try it,’ Amanvah whispered, lifting his fiddle and handing it to him.
Rojer hesitated a moment, then shrugged and took the instrument, affixing the clamp to the tail piece where the resonance would be greatest. He turned the threaded barrels carefully to tighten it without damaging the wood, then set it beneath his chin, holding the instrument without the use of his hands. There was a slight tingle where it touched his chin, like a limb gone to pins and needles.
Rojer waited a moment. ‘What’s supposed to happen?’
Amanvah laughed again. ‘Play!’
Rojer took the bow in his crippled hand and the frets in the other, playing a quick tune. He was shocked at the resonance. The instrument had become twice as loud. ‘That’s amazing.’
‘And that is with most of the wards covered by your chin,’ Amanvah said. ‘Lift away and the sound will only grow.’
Rojer cocked an eyebrow at her, then went back to playing. At first, he kept the wood covered, and the instrument seemed little louder than normal. Slowly, he lifted his chin, revealing some of the wards, and the volume began to increase. He lifted more, and the sound doubled, and doubled again, rattling his teeth even as his wives moved to cover their ears. Finally, he had to stop from sheer pain, with much of the rest still covered.
‘This will drown out your beautiful voices,’ Rojer said.
Amanvah shook her head, lifting her veil to show a golden choker with a warded ball at its centre, resting in the hollow of her throat. Sikvah revealed a similar bit of jewellery at her own neck. ‘We will match you, husband.’
Rojer shook his head, stunned. Perhaps bone magic and dice ent so bad after all.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ he managed at last. ‘This is the most amazing gift anyone has ever given me, but I haven’t anything to give in return.’
Amanvah and Sikvah laughed. ‘Have you already forgotten the song we just sang?’ Amanvah said. ‘It was your marriage gift before our holy father.’ She laid a hand on his arm. ‘We will sing it with you tonight for the chin.’
Rojer nodded, suddenly racked with guilt. They had no idea what the song would say to the Laktonians.
The village of Greenmeadow appeared deserted when their caravan arrived, fields empty of humans and livestock. The few fleeting glimpses of movement vanished quickly over hills and into the woods. They left the caravan on the Messenger road while the carriages headed into the village proper. Even then they saw no one.
‘I do not like this,’ Kaval said. Coliv said something to him in Krasian, and he grunted.
‘What’s that?’ Leesha asked.
‘He says the chin make only slightly less noise than thunder. They are all around us, watching from every window and around every street corner. I will dispatch him to scout our path …’
‘You won’t,’ Leesha said.
‘He is a Krevakh Watcher,’ Kaval said. ‘I assure you, mistress, the greenlanders will never even know he is there.’
‘I’m not worried about them,’ Leesha said. ‘I want him where I can see him. These people have reason for caution, but we aren’t going to do anything to threaten them.’
A moment later the town square came into view, surrounded by homes and shopfronts. There were five men waiting on the inn steps, two with nocked hunting bows, and two more with long pitchforks.
Leesha called a halt and stepped out of her carriage. Immediately she was joined by Rojer, Gared, Wonda, Amanvah, Enkido, Shamavah, and Kaval. ‘Let me do the talking,’ Leesha said as they approached the inn.
‘They do not appear interested in talking, mistress,’ Kaval said, nodding to both sides, where she saw bowmen at every window around the town square.
‘They will not shoot unless we give them cause,’ Leesha said, wishing she was as confident as her words. She spread her pocketed apron so that all could see she was a Herb Gatherer. Rojer’s patchwork cloak announced him as a Jongleur – another point in their favour.
Rojer and Enkido placed themselves between the bows and Amanvah, with Gared in turn protecting Rojer. Leesha was similarly surrounded by Kaval and Wonda.
‘Ay, the inn!’ Rojer cried. ‘We mean no harm, seeking only safe succour, for which we can pay. May we approach?’
‘Leave your spears right there!’ one of the men cried.
‘I’ll do no such—’ Kaval began.
‘Your spear or yourself, Drillmaster,’ Leesha cut in. ‘It’s a fair request, and they could as easily drop you where you stand.’ Kaval let out a low growl, but he bent and laid down his spear, as did Enkido.
‘Who’re you, then?’ the lead man asked when they made it to the porch.
‘Leesha Paper,’ Leesha said.
The man blinked. ‘Mistress of the Hollow?’
Leesha smiled. ‘The same.’
The man’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you doing so far south? And with the likes of them?’ He nodded at the Krasians.
‘We are returning from a meeting with the Krasian leader,’ Leesha said, ‘and wish to spend the night in Greenmeadow.’
‘Since when do Herb Gatherers go on diplomacy missions?’ the man asked. ‘That’s Messenger work.’
Rojer stepped forward, extending a hand with a sweep of his motley cloak. ‘I am the herald of Deliverer’s Hollow. Rojer Halfgrip, former apprentice to Arrick Sweetsong, one-time herald of Duke Rhinebeck of Angiers.’
‘Halfgrip?’ the man asked. ‘The one they call the fiddle wizard?’ Rojer smiled widely at that, nodding.
‘You have our names, but have not given yours,’ Leesha said. ‘I’m guessing you are Havold, the Town Speaker?’
‘Ay, how d’you know that?’ the man demanded.
‘Your Herb Gatherer, Mistress Ana, once wrote to me for advice on curing your daughter Thea of the gasping cough,’ Leesha said. ‘She is well, I take it?’
‘That was ten years ago,’ Havold said. ‘She has children of her own now, and I don’t care for the thought of them sleeping not half a mile from a bunch of murdering Krasians. We heard the stories from those that passed through last winter, running from them.’ His bearded lip curled at Kaval and Enkido, showing the tip of one of his canines.
Leesha prayed the drillmaster would not rise to the bait, and breathed a sigh when he remained silent. ‘I cannot speak for the people as a whole, but I can vouch for the men in my caravan. If left alone, they will keep to themselves and harm no one. Most will remain in their carts on the road, but my parents are elderly and I would dearly appreciate a few beds for the night. As my herald told you, we can pay, in both gold and entertainment.’