Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [46]
"That goes without saying," Danilo agreed as he came back over to the circle. He took the lyre with interest; he had heard of such instruments but had never handled one. "A rebec, please," he said, and the lyre immediately became a long, pear-shaped instrument that vaguely resembled a lute, but was played like a fiddle with a horsehair bow. Danilo spoke again, and the rebec became the most unusual lap harp he had ever seen. The instrument was the pale color of driftwood, and the wood had been intricately carved with tiny seascapes, complete with ships, mermaids, and wheeling gulls. Impressed, Danilo handed back the magic instrument.
"I am especially fond of the harp's music, but I cannot play," Wyn said wistfully, pressing the harp back into Danilo's hands. "Would you do the honors?"
"By all means," Elaith put in smoothly, his lips curved in an urbane smile. "A small task, for one who claims to be a Harper and aspires to confrontations with legendary dragons."
"Speaking o' legends, elf, I heared yer name a few times," Morgalla observed pleasantly. She jabbed at a bit of fish with a wicked-looking hunting knife. " 'Cept yer always called a snake in the tales. Why is that do you suppose?"
"Serpent," Vartain corrected. "Named for his grace in battle and speed of strike."
"If'n it slithers, it's all the same to me," the dwarf said with a shrug.
"In answer to your question, Wyn," Danilo put in hastily, "the harp was my first instrument although it's been years since I last played. My first teacher was a bard trained in the style of the MacFuirmidh school. He was adamant that the old songs had to be sung to the original instrument of composition."
Danilo tried the strings and found that the memory of the music was still in his fingers. After a moment's thought he began the introduction to a dwarven ballad, an old song taught to him by a bard visiting from Utrumm's Conservatory in Silverymoon. It was a sad but dignified lament for a people and a way of life that was slowly fading from the land.
To Danilo's surprise, Wyn Ashgrove began to sing the dwarven song with genuine feeling. After a moment, Morgalla also joined in, singing harmony in a rich alto. The deep tones of the dwarf's voice encompassed about the same range as Wyn's soaring countertenor, and the two voices blended as well as any duo Danilo had ever heard. As he played, the Harper listened with awe to the singers. In the elf's silvery tones was the beauty of the sea and stars, while the rich, feminine strength of Morgalla's voice seemed to spring from the earth and the stone: opposites, perhaps, but together forming a whole.
The last notes of the harp faded away, leaving an invisible bond between the two singers that neither had considered. Their gazes clung for a moment, then slid away, a little self-conscious. Morgalla took a deep breath and raised her eyes to Danilo. Her expression was defiant, quickly becoming bewildered as the circle broke into applause.
"Beauty, brawn, and talent!" Balindar whooped, raising his tin traveling cup to the dwarf in a salute.
"Morgalla, my dear, your voice is remarkable," Danilo told her. She shrugged and looked away.
Wyn reclaimed his instrument from the Harper and held it out to the dwarf. "Do you play as well as sing?"
She snorted and held out her stubby-fingered hands for inspection. "With these?"
"There are instruments-even stringed instruments- that would suit you well," Wyn told her. "Have you never heard of a hammered dulcimer?"
"Hammers, you say?" The dwarf looked interested despite herself.
The elf smiled faintly. "More like spoons than hammers, and wielded with more delicacy than one would employ at a forge, but the idea is the same. Let me show you."
A word from the elf changed the lap harp into a small wooden box, wider at one end than the other and crisscrossed with strings. Wyn took two small beaters and began to tap the strings, showing Morgalla how the notes were arranged and then playing a snatch of the melody that they had just shared.
"Now