"Your memory is impressive."
Ong shrugged.
"A tavernkeeper's trick." Ong glanced back to Tycho and said, "Now you speak Shou with the accent of Ch'ing Tung province, hut if you come from Shou Lung, I'll drink my own beer. You have the look of someone from Faerun's near west, but your accent eludes me. Your voice is excellent, however, and I'd wager that you can sing more than a little."
"Tycho Arisaenn of Spandeliyon in Altumbel," said Tycho with a grin. "If you'd like a song, I'd be happy to oblige." He slid the chunky wooden body of a strilling around on the strap that held it slung across his back and plucked one of the instrument's strings with his thumb. "Though," he added casually, "it's the custom in Altumbel that a bard drinks for free as long as he plays."
"Ancestors bless Altumbel!" roared Ong. "I've often said it's the most civilized nation of Faerun! Come in, come in!" Wrapping thick arms around both men, he drew them farther into the crowd. "My usual singer is away at present-gone raiding with the other men of the oasis, the ungrateful dog!"
"We'd noticed the scarcity of men around the oasis," Li said. "Aren't they afraid to leave their wives and children unprotected?"
"The men of this oasis have a fierce reputation," Ong explained as they squeezed past a lounging cluster of merchants from the caravan. Ong freed Tycho from his embrace long enough to slosh beer into their mugs. The merchants cheered. Ong raised his pitcher in acknowledgment, then swept Li and Tycho along. "No other ordu or bandit gang would dare raid this oasis for fear of reprisals-though if you were to suggest that to one of them they'd run you through."
"They don't like to admit they're afraid?" asked Tycho.
"They don't like to admit they're afraid of men of flesh and blood," Ong replied, nodding back toward the door flap. "Local tales say that a powerful spirit dwells in the water here and the Tuigan will do almost anything to avoid offending it. It means they have some strange taboos but it also means-" He spread his arms wide and proclaimed loudly-"that there isn't a safer oasis in all the Endless Wastes!"
A mixture of travelers and local women shouted their agreement. Tycho looked toward the door flap.
"Is there really a spirit in the water?" he asked.
Li groaned and said, "No."
"But what if-?"
"No. No investigating, no exploring," Li said, shaking his head as Ong raised one eyebrow in an unspoken question. "Tycho has an unerring ability to find trouble."
Tycho glared at his friend.
"And Li," he said to Ong, "has an uncanny ability to ignore anything at all interesting!"
Ong slapped his arms around both of them once more, drawing them close.
"Curious or dull," he murmured, "don't question the Tuigans' beliefs. They take them very seriously."
Tycho gave him a disappointed look and asked, "Have you ever seen this spirit?"
"So long as I am among the Tuigan," said Ong, "I have no doubt that it exists. And if you have any sense beneath your curly hair, neither will you." He clapped them on the shoulders and stood back. "Now I believe there was talk of a song?" He reached to refill Tycho's mug again, but his pitcher was finally empty. "No matter," he said and called out, "Ibakha!"
A young Tuigan woman with a full pitcher of beer in her hand-the flirtatious young woman Tycho had seen as the caravan rode into the oasis-came pushing through the crowd. His disappointment vanished as she stopped at the sight of him. Maybe things wouldn't be so dull after all. He gave Ibakha a wink and another smile.
An older woman caught the gesture. In an instant, she was at Ibakha's side, snatching away the pitcher and delivering a few sharp words that made Ibakha flush as red as a bad sunburn. The young woman vanished into the crowd, while the older stalked up to Tycho, Li, and Ong. The pitcher she shoved at Ong, but her anger she unleashed at Tycho in a rush of Tuigan-accented Shou.
"You stay away from Ibakha, Faroon. She is betrothed." She slapped Tycho in the center of his chest and repeated, "Stay away from her!"
She stomped away. Tycho stared after her. After a moment of stunned silence, Ong cleared his throat.
"I apologize for Chotan. Did I mention that the most significant reason no one would raid this oasis is that everyone is afraid of the women?"
"Really?" Tycho rubbed his chest and winced. "Have you wondered if maybe the men go out raiding to get away from them?"
Ong howled with laughter and poured him fresh beer from the pitcher.
"Play, master bard, and if there's anything you need, just ask any of my women." He grinned and added, "Except perhaps Chotan."
He rolled away into the crowd, greeting each of his customers in turn. Li stared after him.
"There's something I don't like about our host," he said.
"He's friendly, Li," said Tycho with a grin. "You should try it sometime."
He set his mug on a nearby table and settled the butt of his strilling against his shoulder, then undipped the bow from the strap and drew it across the instrument's strings.
"Olare!" he called as faces turned at the sound. "Who wants a song?"
"-but hearts or gold," sang Tycho, "my swag must be sold, because I am-
He lifted his bow and swept it through the air.
"-the king of piiiirrates!" roared the crowd. Tycho ended the song with a flourish and leaped down from the tabletop to applause and ringing cheers. He grinned at Li as he wiped sweat from his face.
"You know," he said, "I think even the Tuigan women enjoyed that."
"And they probably don't have any idea what a pirate is," commented Li. "The pond outside is likely the largest body of water most of them have ever seen."
He sipped cautiously at his millet beer. Tycho laughed, then clipped his bow to the strap of his strilling and slid the instrument around against his back. He reached for his mug. It was empty.
"When did I finish this?"
"Sometime between The Thayan Pox and A Dwarf Went Delving" said Li.
Tycho looked around. With the music finished, many of the caravan travelers were leaving to stagger back to their bedrolls, though the fearsome women of the oasis were still drinking and playing their game of knives. Pretty young Ibakha was nowhere to be seen, probably sent home for her own protection. There were other serving women almost as pretty, though. Tycho caught the eye of one and gestured with his mug. She boldly sauntered over.
"More beer, FaroonV She didn't wait for a reply before filling his mug. "I am Chaka."
"I'm Tycho," he said. "Faroon-what does that mean, Chaka?"
She grinned and replied, "It's the land where you come from, isn't it?"
"Faroon… Faerun." Behind him, Tycho could hear Li snorting derisively at his flirtations. He ignored Li and said, "Your Shou is very good. Do you all speak it?"
"Ong insists on it. He teaches us. He thinks it's a more proper language than Tuigan." Chaka bent close. "You sing very well, Tycho. Maybe tonight I could teach you to sing a Tuigan song."
Her breath smelled of sweet spices. Tycho smiled
"Maybe I could sing a little song just for you, Chaka"