"No, no, no," Gwyna finally said, when she'd gotten her laughter under control. "It's just the Gypsies. We're used to passing messages all over the Kingdoms. Anything that interests the Free Bards involves us, sooner or later."
"Why?" Rune asked, her brow furrowed. "You Gypsies are all related in one way or another, if I understand right, but what does that have to do with the Free Bards?"
"Quite a bit," Gwyna said, sobering. "You see, Master Wren came to us when he first ran away from the Guild, and it was being with us that gave him the idea for the Free Bards. He liked the kind of group we are. He says we're 'supportive without being restrictive,' whatever that means."
"All right, I can see that," Rune replied. "But I still don't understand what the Gypsies have to do with the Free Bards."
"For a start, it's probably fair to say that every Gypsy that's any kind of a musician is a Free Bard now. The Gift runs strong in us, when it runs at all. When anything calls us, music or dance, trading-craft, horse-craft, metal-craft, or mag-" She stopped herself, and Rune had the startling idea that she was about to say "magic." Magic? If it was not proscribed by the Church, it was at the least frowned upon. . . .
"Well, anything that calls us, calls us strongly, so when we do a thing, we do it well." Gwyna skipped lightly over the grass and held open the tent-flap for Rune. "So if we'd chosen the caged-life, every male of us could likely be in the Guild. That wasn't our way, though, and seeing that gave Master Wren the idea for the Free Bards. Of you gejo, I'd say maybe one of every ten musicians and street-buskers are Free Bards. No more. The rest simply aren't good enough. You were good enough, so we watched you. We-that's Free Bards and Gypsies both."
Rune sighed. That, at least, made her feel a little less like a child that hasn't been let in on a secret. The Free Bards weren't everywhere; they didn't have a secret eye on everyone. Just the few who seemed to promise they'd fit in the Free Bard ranks.
"There weren't any Free Bards in Nolton. The Gypsies, though, we have eyes and ears everywhere because we go everywhere. And since we're always meeting each other, we're always passing news, so what one knows, within months all know. We're a good way for the Free Bards to keep track of each other and of those who will fit in when they're ready." Gwyna showed her back to her own corner of the tent, which now held her bedroll and the huge cushions, her pack, as well as the instruments Talaysen had given her.
"Food first?" the girl asked. Rune nodded; now that her head and arm didn't hurt quite so much, she was actually hungry. Not terribly, which was probably the result of the medicine, but she wasn't nauseated anymore.
Gwyna brought her bread and cheese, and more of the doctored wine, while Erdric's grandson came and flung himself down on the cushions with the bonelessness of the very young and watched her as if he expected she might break apart at any moment. And as if he thought it might be very entertaining when she did.
She finished half the food before she finally got tired of the big dark eyes on her and returned him stare for stare. "Yes?" she said finally. "Is there something you wanted to ask me?"
"Did it hurt?" he asked, bright-eyed, as innocent and callous as only a child could be.
"Yes, it did," she told him. "A lot. I was very stupid, though nobody knew how stupid I was being. Don't ever put yourself in the position where someone can beat you. Run away if you can, but don't ever be as stupid as I was."
"All right," he said brightly. "I won't."
"Thank you for getting my things," she said, when it occurred to her that she hadn't thanked him herself. "I really appreciate it. There isn't anything special in my pack, but it's all I've got."
"You're welcome," he told her, serious and proper. Then, as if her politeness opened up a floodgate, the questions came pouring out. "Are you staying with the Free Bards? Are you partnering with Master Wren? Are you going to be his lover? He needs a lover. Robin says so all the time. Do you want to be his lover? Lots of girls want to be his lover, and he won't be. Do you like him? He likes you, I can tell."
"Sparrow!" Gwyna said sharply. "That's private! Do we discuss private matters without permission?"
"If she's with us, it isn't private, is it?" he retorted. "If she's a Free Bard she's part of the romgerry and it isn't private matters to talk about-"
"Yes it is," Gwyna replied firmly. "Yes, she's staying, and yes, she's a Free Bard now, but the rest is private matters until Master Wren tells you different. You won't ask any more questions like that. Is that understood?"
For some reason that Rune didn't understand, Gwyna was blushing a brilliant scarlet. The boy seemed to sense he had pushed her as far as he dared. He jumped to his feet and scampered off. Gwyna averted her face until her blushes faded.
"What was that all about?" Rune asked, too surprised to be offended or embarrassed. After all, the boy meant no harm. She'd spent the night an arm's length away from Talaysen; it was perfectly natural for the child to start thinking in terms of other than "master and apprentice."
"We all worry about Master Wren," Gwyna said. "Some of us maybe worry a bit too much. Some of us think he spends too much time by himself, and well, there's always talk about how he ought to find someone who'd be good for him."
"And who is this 'Robin'?" she asked curiously.
"Me," Gwyna said, flushing again. "Gypsies don't like strangers knowing their real names, so we take names that anyone can use, names that say something about what our Craft is. A horse-tamer might be Roan, Tamer, or Cob, for instance. All musicians take bird-names, and the Free Bards have started doing the same, because it makes it harder for the Church and cities to keep track of us for taxes and tithes and-other things."