From Darkness Won - Jill Williamson [54]
If you’re too shy to ask a dance
Another man will take the chance.
When the song ended, Cap kissed Vrell on the cheek. “Thanks for the twirl, Ressa.”
Vrell squeezed her hands into fists, shocked at Cap’s audacity. But before she could scold him, he lunged up to a golden-haired woman and whisked her into a dance. Vrell retreated to her stump, dropped onto the unyielding surface, and folded her arms, hoping to look vexed and unsociable.
Yet another man approached from her side. Vrell looked away. If their eyes never met, perhaps he would give up.
But he sat on the stump beside hers. Vrell stiffened, wanting nothing more than to return to Gren’s cottage.
“Where is Gren?” a familiar voice asked.
Vrell turned, delighted to see that it was Noam. “She is dancing.”
Noam squinted at the crowd, his eyes dark under his messy brown hair. “You really going to Armonguard?”
“Who told you?”
He flashed his dark eyes her way. “Harnu questioned my ability to protect two women and bid me think hard before agreeing to help you.”
Vrell laughed silently. “He has a way with words.”
The rushlights elongated Noam’s narrow face. “I’m not brave, like Achan. Thought he was mad for the reckless way he lived. But I’d like to see him again. Think he’d see me?”
“Of course he would! But we are not going to see Achan. Not right away, at least.”
“But if I made it that far—if we made it, I mean. You think he would pardon my crimes?”
“What crimes have you committed, Master Fox?”
His face went slack. “None. But if I leave my master…”
“I can assure you, if we make it to Armonguard, you will be safe. Achan will not continue to imprison strays.”
“Then I’ll come,” Noam said. “Though I’m too scrawny to be much help, I’ll do my best to look forbidding.”
The song ended. Gren returned arm in arm with the redheaded man. The band segued into another song.
Noam chuckled. “Ah, the new favorite of Sitna Manor. Have you heard this one, Lady Averella? I bet you’d like it.”
Vrell winced and hoped the music had drowned out Noam’s use of her real name.
He grew up here in Sitna Town,
The hand his life was dealt.
He milked the goats and fetched the wood
Or Poril gave him the belt.
The pawn our king, sing merry, merry, merry.
The pawn our servant king.
For he was once the lowest of all strays
And now claims to be king.
Then the Great Whitewolf took him up,
Taught him to use a sword.
He fought quite well, his blade struck true,
And blood from Esek poured.
Remember us, sing merry, merry, merry.
Remember us, O king.
For you were once the lowest of all strays
And now you’ll be our king.
Vrell smiled at the lyrics. Achan had become a legend in Sitna. What would he say if he heard this song?
The band continued to play. But the minstrel jumped off the cart and broke up a dancing couple. He twirled around twice with the maiden, then left her standing and interrupted another couple. Men from the crowd roared with laughter, as if such rudeness was hysterically clever. Two men from the crowd ran into the mob and copied the minstrel, breaking up couples and dancing with the ladies.
Cap suddenly appeared before Vrell and dragged her back into a dance. He spun so quickly her head tingled. She pulled back, trying to slow them down. Their connection broke. Vrell stumbled. Someone caught her and threw her into a jig. She squealed and held on for fear she might fall.
Yet another man ripped her arm away from her partner. The minstrel! He spun Vrell round and round and round before releasing her. She staggered a few steps and fell to her knees, her surroundings whirling around her.
The minstrel’s voice sang out again.
For he and we were all deceived,
By our own Lord Nathak.
And now the Pawn King marches south
To take Armonguard back.
O rescue us, sing merry, merry, merry.
O rescue us, O king.
For you were once the lowest of all strays
Save us, our precious king.
Vrell still sat on her knees. Couples twirled around her as if she were not there.
“Brazen animals!” a voice said to her left. “Don’t know how