Read Online The Two Tanists (A Bard Without a Star, Book 2) by Michael A. Hooten - Free Book Online Page A

told you of before, yes?” At Gwillim’s terse nod, Gwydion touched his
fingers to the strings, and before he even had a chance to apply any magic, he
felt something resisting him. He continued to play, telling a convoluted story
about a god who made the first harp of fish bones, and used it to control the
world, but part of his mind was probing the strange magic working against him.
    It seemed to be drawn to his
music, but every time he tried to start using it to make magic, the force
resisted him. He kept his song soothing, both for his audience and for the
almost sentient magic. He probed at it cautiously, subtly, but it seemed
malevolent, although mostly directed at the cantref, not Gwydion personally.
It dawned on him suddenly that he was dealing with a cursed land, and that the
curse evidently had a real, magical presence. He played a bit longer, trying
to find a way to get the curse to help him, but it seemed oblivious to him
except when he started feeding magic into his music. Then it turned its power
on him, forcing him to defend himself.
    He drew his song to a close,
grateful that music by itself was indeed soothing. Gwillim and Kyrnin both
looked more relaxed and open. Gwillim said, “Your music was unusual, Per
Grojian, but the story was well told. Thank you.” He took a gold ring from
his finger. “In this country, we reward storytellers. Would you take this ring
in consideration for your harping?”
    Gwydion lifted his hands. “I
know not this tradition. Please, give me nothing; I offered this for your
benefit, and have better things to barter with than a song.”
    The mention of barter made
Kyrnin’s face cloudy again. “My heifer is not for sale at any price.”
    Gwydion nodded sagely. “I
see it has value to you more than my mere trinkets. You are a wise man.”
    Gwillim looked disappointed
that the trade would happen, and several of his lairds looked shocked to
anger. Even Gwydion’s company seemed surprised that he had given in so
easily. The rest of the evening was spent with Gwydion fending off Gwillim’s
attempts to trade something else for the company’s finery.
    After the meal ended, Gwydion
said, “Would it be permissible to check on my animals?”
    “Of course,” Gwillim said.
“Adaf will lead you to the stables.”
    Bran and the others made as
if to accompany him, but Gwydion waved them all away except for Cofach. “We
are safe here, my men. I only need the groom here to assist me.”
    Bran looked thunderous, but
he allowed himself to be led away with the others. Gwydion and Cofach followed
Adaf back to the courtyard. Adaf seemed to be intent on boasting about every
stone they saw along the way, and Gwydion gently steered him back on track. “My
animals, chief.”
    “Of course, of course,” Adaf
said. “They are in here, along with the heifer that you tried to get from us.”
    “Your lord’s son is too
shrewd for me.”
    “Stubborn, I’d say,” Adaf
said with a trace of irritation. The stables seemed to have an inordinate
number of people, most of them gawking along one side. Adaf yelled, “Get out
of here, the lot of you! Our guest would like to look at his animals himself,
without all your stares down his neck!”
    The spectators milled about a
bit, heading in several different directions, trying to appear nonchalant and
innocent. Adaf shook his head and called out, “Oy! Eynon! Where are you man?”
    “Right here, where I belong,”
said a hulking man with work worn face and hands, coming out of one of the
stalls with a pitchfork and a bucket. “Whatcha need, Adaf?”
    “This man here is the owner
of the stallions,” Adaf said. “He wants to make sure they are being taken care
of.”
    “Of course they are,” Eynon
said, spitting on the ground. “Horses are horses, no matter how fine they may
seem. They need water and clean straw, and these here have both.”
    As Gwydion and Cofach went
through each of the stalls holding the stallions, Eynon watched them