Fawnlum and Lucas walked back to Klingger’s, having dropped off their newest goodly sum of gold in the well-guarded counting-house.

Along with the clerk who took their money, a couple of merchants watched the exchange.

Lucas had simply told them, “Yes, she’s killed that many.”

As they approached the Spur Saddle, they spotted the small crowd of people gathered along the street, and heard the singing.

Fawnlum spotted the author of the spirited melody, which created such a contrast to the gloom.

The tune told the story of a maiden, who walked through a glade, and was gifted with additional life from the animals that came with the sun’s rising, and the ones that came with its setting.

Fawnlum knew not the song, but the girl’s performance was enjoyable.

Lucas obviously thought so, too, since he tossed a gold piece into the girl’s tin bowl.

The light-skinned, brunette minstrel glanced down from her place upon the low wall, gave a nod of thanks without missing a beat, and sang on.

“Generous, aren’t we?” Fawnlum said, as they entered the tavern.  “Although, she is pretty.”

Unfazed, he answered, “Well, you won’t let me spend my money on strong drink.”

In short order, another party started around Dreighton.

In the cleared space of the floor, and the comings and goings of the servers, Klingger sat beside Fawnlum and Lucas.  The barkeep handed a piece of folded parchment to the youth.

Lucas immediately snatched it, tearing open the wax seal.

Fawnlum watched him read the letter with trembling hands.

“She’s safe,” he breathed, with wide eyes.  “My mother made it to the Starlight Tower, and this wizard, Exedo, has put her to work as he serves Humboldt!”

He jumped and gave a ‘whoop!’, and stared at the words again.  He grabbed their host in a hug that nearly lifted him out of his chair.  “Thank you, Master Klingger!”

“Think nothing of it, young man!” he said, with a pat on Lucas’ back.

“Now put your mind at ease,” Fawnlum told him, as she gave a comradely slap on his shoulder.  “And go find a girl to dance with.”

“Yes, Saima.”

As Lucas strode away, Klingger leaned toward her.  “You keep surviving that cursed forest,” he said.  “I can see how you’d be from wild Torsar’s family.”

“Actually, we’re joining each other’s families.  But in his own way, he’s a blessing,” she answered, as she took a sip of her ale.

“There are many blessings that come from many places,” came a voice to her left.

She turned and looked up, into the bright blue eyes of the dark-haired bard-girl from outside.

“Pardon me, Lady Lichner.  Are you truly from the Coast of Storms, the home of barbarians who keep a truce with not one, but a brood of red dragons?

“Yes.”

“Cassly is my name.  Cassly Duejn.  It’s my wish to know more about you before I pen the songs.”

“Songs?”

“For the lady hero who came, and rescued East Osterly in such dark times.”

Fawnlum set her drink down.  “Don’t sing of me, until I hold high the enemy’s head, so the people will know the threat is ended.”

“But you’ve collected so many bounties.”

Fawnlum pushed a chair apart from the table in offering, and Cassly accepted it.

“Whether I’m worth the songs of the bards, is determined by whether there’s virtue in my deeds.  Virtue comes with the end of the threat.  Otherwise it’s just wishful thinking.

“The character of any warrior is defined by the principles they hold, and how they stand for them, not simply receiving attention.”

“If you have the love of the people, is that not all that’s needed for your remembrance?”

“I’ve chosen to come to Osterly, despite the call to join Humboldt.  I’m facing the threat that is here, but not seen.  My reasons were selfish, for I came seeking a battle that could be my own, and not just be a face in a crowd of others.

“Within both reasons, I came to fight.”

Cassly leaned in closer.  Her bright eyes were focused, belying such a strong and intelligent spirit, Fawnlum wondered if she was more than a bard.

“And do you plan to redeem your selfishness, by staying to finish the fight you’ve started, or is that something you don’t wish to tell a stranger?”

“There’s no strangers here!” Dreighton said, as he suddenly appeared by the table, and with a bow gently but confidently took Cassly’s hand.  She gave a final look at Fawnlum, as she stood and let herself be escorted to the dance floor.

Fawnlum nodded jokingly at Klingger, at the spectacle of Cassly’s petite and slender self dancing with Dreighton’s tall and strapping one.

“She has a sense of people,” she commented to Klingger, as the barkeep started to rise.

“She has a sense of many things.  You’d like her, warrior.

“She’s been here a little over a year. She has a quick wit, and keeps a spring in her step, despite the darkness all about us.”

“I thought I spotted pointed ears under that dark hair of hers.”

“Yes.  She’s a half-elf.  She never says where exactly she came from, just that she has been all over.”

He indicated her instrument – an archtop cittern – sitting on the table.  “She has a habit of singing from the rooftops.”

Fawnlum looked at the stringed implement, then looked back up at him.  “From the rooftops?”

“Eh.  Maybe she likes high places.  Her songs have been uplifting, for a people living in shadow.”

As Fawnlum led her company back to the forest two days later, she looked at Sienna and stated the obvious.  “You look pleased.”

Her friend carried samples of a jelly-like substance, which the Nacklegems had simply dubbed, ‘fire-gel’.

“I can’t wait to put this to use!” Sienna replied with a feral grin.