Tales of Tanlien: Rhiannon - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Listen to the wind blow
Watch the sun rise

Run in the shadows
Damn your love
Damn your lies

And if
You don't love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain.

~ Fleetwood Mac

Everyone has that first love, the first person they fell hard for, the first person they wanted to give up themselves to be with. And when that love fell apart, everyone had that someone they wanted to kill themselves over losing.

Ok, I know, I'm being a tad over-dramatic, but I'm a bard, I have license to be over dramatic for the good of the story. See, here it is, signed by the Baron himself.

But that is neither here nor there. Regardless of whether or not you have ever met someone you thought was your soulmate, I sure as hell did, and it took me ten years to get over losing her. At least, I thought I finally had gotten over her, had finally banished her face, fresh like a spring flower, from my dreams, her name, soft like the whispering wind, from my head, had finally wiped clean her memory, the most wonderful, most painful moments of my life, from my mind.

But then I saw her again, in the Tavern, and I knew I was lying to myself.

Destry and I were taking Kellan out to dinner to celebrate his birthfeast and toast the rare fact that the headstrong young spellsword has actually lived to see his nineteenth summer. We took our usual booth after shouting our orders to Rizzo. Nusha brought us our food and ale and we soon lost ourselves in the camaraderie. I wasn't paying attention to the entertainment, they did not seem overly skilled, so I tuned them out.

I was in the middle of telling a little story when I heard that voice. Age had added a bit to it's husky rasp, but for that it throbbed even stronger of passion and seduction, and that sweet voice made a straight line from the stage to my ear and then to my awakening cock.

"Tan, what's up?" Destry's puzzled voice barely made a dent in my consciousness as I slowly turned around and look at the stage.

Damn.

It was Her, wrapped in silk and scarves like a gypsy, swaying a little as she sang. A young minstrel, a boy really, sat on the stage next to her, playing mandolin accompaniment while staring raptly at her. But then, so was I.

She looked as good now as she did then, and that's a fact. Hers had always been a timeless, wild beauty, and though she was no longer in the first bloom of youth as when we last saw each other, she was even more fetching and exotic then before. Rich blonde hair flowed from under her scarf in waves playful curls and seemed only a little darker then her golden hued skin. I knew from personal experience this was no tan and the color persisted all over her body, a gift of her blessedly mixed ancestry, as were the almond-shaped eyes. But the most arresting feature were the gold and green flecked eyes that always saw right through me.

They saw me now, I know they did, though she did not wave or signal or even look directly at me. I knew she knew I was here. I felt it.

"Tanilen!" Destry's voice was arch with exasperation and amusement, as was the knife with which she poked me in the arm to get my attention.

The spell was broken and I turned, sourly, on my companions. "Damnit Destry! There are nicer ways to get a guy's attention then that damned pigsticker!"

"At least I talked her out of using the poisoned one," offered Kellan, quietly, but by the glint in his eyes he was just as intent on an answer as the nightblade. "We've been calling your name for ten minutes, but you just kept staring off at that singer for three straight songs; I'm not even sure you were breathing!"

I tried to ignore the boy and looked back at the stage, but it was too late. The next set of performers were setting up their instruments and She was no where in sight. Damn!

Destry laid a slim, warm hand on my arm "What's the matter, Tan? You look at her like you're seeing a ghost."

A ghost? Yes, that would be appropriate. She had haunted me even when we were together and the world was perfect. And now, after all this time? When nothing in Makeover is perfect anymore?

"Granted, she is a striking woman, with a voice like a siren, but frankly you've been with women better in both categories. What's so special about..."

Destry's blunt accounting of the situation harshly broke my mood and anger erupted in me quickly and before I knew it I was half out of my chair, my palm numb where it slapped the nightblade across the cheek.

"Tanilen!" Kellan's voice was stricken, but no one was paying him any heed as I locked my gaze to that of Destry. Oh, her eyes were cold and hard and I was tempted to glance down to see if she was drawing steel on me. Had we not been such close friends for all these years, I knew I would have been dead, or at least bleeding by now. Such was our friendship that she only wounded me with that frozen, disowning look.

My embarrassment and shame at my actions only made my self-righteous anger burn hotter. I had to get out of there. I was half way to the door of the Tavern before I heard Kellan calling for me to return, and I nearly knocked Nusha down as she carried a heavy tray, and that earned me a dark glare from Lazim at the door, but no one stopped me.

Dammit. Why did She have to come back, now, when I had so many important things going on in my life? Maybe if I was just the simple itinerant musician I pretended to be, I would have had more time to handle this situation the way it deserved. But I'm not. The war 'tween Kingdom and Empire required me to be ever alert and aware, sending information and reports back to Baldur. And I was already involved with a woman in a semi-serious arrangement, several women in fact.

Destry was right, from an impartial viewpoint, that She was not the most beautiful woman I had ever bedded. I could count on both hands the number of women, Destry included, who were Her equal or superior in that. And yes, one was even a better singer who could do things with my clumsy lyrics and awkward melodies that were magical.

But none of these other women had been my First Love.

"I thought I would find you here."

That husky voice again. My knees turned to butter and I slowly turned to face Her, half dreading, half lusting to see her. As I did, I noticed where I was, the harbor. She would know that I always head out to the piers to find my answers to questions in the sea.

And now she stood in front of me, leaning with her back on a rail, the harbor bay behind her, the gleaming silver moon above her. But she was a creature of daylight and sunshine, and her bronze skin looked wan in the moonlight. It just made Her look vulnerable, and I fought the urge to wrap her up in my arms and protect Her.

"Dragon got your tongue?" The words were teasing, but her voice, her face were a cipher. Her velvet cloak was casually tossed over her shoulders and I could see she was still wearing the gauzy performing habit she had worn in the Tavern. She still had the same lithe dancer's body she had before, only now her bosom seemed bigger, though not as if she had paid a backstreet mage to enhance them. She had only been seventeen last time I saw her, her body was matured now.

"I heard through the grapevine you were here in Portico performing in the Tavern and other wharf-side dives." She took a step towards me as she spoke. "I wasn't sure it could be the same Tanilen I used to know, all the way here so far from the Empire, but then someone mentioned how it was odd that you could look so young and have hair so white."

She always teased me about the hair, and the age difference, calling me her old man, her sugar-dragon, and when she was naughty, her daddy. I always hated the last one because I suspected her real father of molesting her before she ran away from home. But none of them had done much for my then tender ego. I was only two years older than She.

"So I took a chance and convinced Tovar to bring the troupe down here. We got here this morning and I was disappointed to find out I missed your performance last night. Rizzo really likes you, says you're one of his favorites. He said you'd be coming back tonight for a private party.

"Cute boy you were with; I hear it was his birthfeast. Maybe I should have gotten him a present and introduced myself. But no, you left too quickly after my set was over. Did I upset you?"

She kept talking, that low voice piercing straight into my soul, and moving slowly closer to me. She was taunting me, but I only stared deep into the gold eyes.

"Was that woman with you or the boy? She is very beautiful, with that slow-boiling sultriness I know you find irresistible. She's the kind of woman you would have worshipped in the past, devoted your life to."

She should know.

"I should know," she echoed aloud. "No, you don't worship her, you slapped her. She stabbed you before that. She wasn't with you, and the boy does not look like enough of a man for her. Am I woman enough?"

She was always so perceptive, her keen sight always saw through most deception, most lies. She already dismissed Destry as my lover, and Kellan's, and recognized her favor of the fairer sex. She was only partially correct, of course, but it was still an impressive display of perception. Did she get all that from watching us while she sang, or did she spy on us when she wasn't performing? She knew about the slap and the stab, after all.

"She didn't really stab me," my voice sounded weak and shaky even to my own ears, and I coughed to clear my throat. "Destry is very good; if she was really attacking me, I would be dead, or at least still bleeding. She only pricked me to get my attention."

"A very practical woman, I think I like her." The approval in Her voice sounded genuine and that puzzled me.

Suddenly there was no space in between us and she was looking straight up in order to continue looking into my eyes. "Why are you here?" I managed to croak.

"To find you." She was in my arms now and she stood on her tippy-toes to bring her face to mine and we were kissing with abandon. Ten years of longing, shame, and regret were transformed into an all consuming hunger for her, and I was shocked to find that hunger echoed in Her. We clung to each other for an eternity and it seemed we were both trying to make up for lost time with a single kiss. My hands began to roam her body and I parted the gossamer silk containing her breasts and began to caress them, massaging the nipples with my thumbs.

She moaned in response, then wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and hitched a leg around my waist. My cock was a painful shaft pressed between our two bodies, begging for freedom or a hiding place somewhere deep in her. I agreed, then staggered as she gave a little jump and wrapped the other leg around me and she now clung to me as I gathered her closer, my hands supporting her on her firm ass.

"Fuck me," she whispered, her lips still against my lips, her chest on my chest, her crotch just above my waiting cock.

I still am not sure how we managed it, but I carried her down the pier onto a fisherman's' dock and onto a small, untended coracle. It was small and stank of the sea and fish and rocked wildly with every move we made, but neither one cared. I made a half hearted attempt to cover us with a canvas sail while she stripped me of my shirt and breeches. I did the same for Her and torn clothing was everywhere as she pulled me on top of her as she dug her fingers in my hair.

"Do me again for old time's sake." She breathed into my soul and I plunged into her, hilting her in one thrust. She bit her hand to keep from screaming but wrapped her legs aground me again and drove me in deeper when I started to pull out a little. We maintained this brutal pattern, her legs spasmodically grinding me into her on every thrust and I was panting and grunting to keep up with the furious pace she set. Despite her request, there was little nostalgia in her eyes or in what we did; only pure animal lust and passion.

In the past we made love tenderly and she was right, I did have a tendency to worship those I loved, and I loved Her. We would take hours to pleasure each other and find new heights of ecstasy. But not tonight. Tonight we fucked, pure and simple, and I wondered what demons she was expiating with this mindless pumping?

She was still biting her knuckles to muffle the moans when I saw a little blood stain her perfect lips, then her golden eyes rolls backed in her head and her body spasmed and then stiffened beneath me. I was a little surprised as she would never have orgasmed before from such single minded fucking, but then my own moment was upon me and my cock spurted its load deep within her.

I think I grunted once before I collapsed onto her, pinning her, and then I did something I rarely do and fell immediately, and deeply, asleep with a single word on my lips.

"Rhiannon."

---

The sun was not even up yet when I woke, alone, in the gently rocking boat. I could hear men talking and realized it was the fisherman coming to begin their long, hard day. I donned my clothes quickly and tossed my cloak over my shoulders as I jumped out of the coracle and made my hurried way up the pier past the startled fishermen. Someone, maybe the owner of the boat Rhi and I shared the night before, yelled something to me, but I was already on the wharf on heading home before I even heard him. Sorry gentleman, but I had bigger fish to fry.

So to speak.

I spent the rest of the day trying to find out why she was in town and who she was with. The easiest thing to have done would to have gone down to the Tavern to speak with Rizzo, since he was the one who hired them in the first place, but I was afraid of running into Kellan and Destry or Rhiannon. The first two I did not want to explain myself to just yet, and I was feeling lousy for how I acted on the kid's birthfeast. And I wasn't ready to see Rhiannon yet until I knew what I wanted from her, if anything.

So I hit the entertainment circuit, talking to other performers and bards, asking about Tovar and his troupe. A few had heard of him, but not much; his was a Kingdom outfit, and very few Kingdom troupes ever left there for here or the Empire. A few had caught the show, but the only performer they felt worthy of discussion was my Rhi, only no one else knew who she was. Memories are short in entertainment; if you don't constantly do something for people to see, they forget all about you like yesterday's refuse.

I was called out of town for a few days after that by Baldur, and that pissed me off, because it was a bullshit assignment, running a message up to Ladd's Fort. Anyone could have run it, but Baldur is a hard man and would not let me beg off without a good story, and he was one person I was not going to be sharing my soul with over Rhiannon. Never.

When I got back, I was ready to kill the bastard. I had headed for the Tavern first thing, having finally made my mind up to confront my gypsy tormentor, only to find out that Tovar had pulled up stakes the day before and left for a contracted gig up north. Rhi was gone and I blamed Baldur.

But he was not around to oblige my venting my anger on his skull, so I headed to the worst dive bar I knew and got piss drunk.

I blew it. Again. My First Love walked back into my life and I let her walk out because I did not know what I wanted. I still didn't, but that did not matter. It wasn't quite as bad as the first time I lost her, but it was bad enough. I think I stayed in that bar for the next ten day, drinking and staring off into the wall.

"Well, would you look at this sad fuck! Tell me, Hammer, have you ever seen a more miserable piece of shit in your life?"

"Go to hell, Cutler." I was huddled in the corner booth, avoiding the evils of sunlight, when twin pillars of smugness descended upon me. Cutler and Hammer were a pair of underworld contacts I had cultivated over the years. Their information was often priceless, but their companionship, especially at a time like this, was not.

"Scoot over, pretty boy, make some room for some real men. Hey you, sweet cheeks," the thin, sharp featured Cutler called out to a serving wench as he and his large, brutish partner slid into the booth on either side of me, squeezing me between them. "Bring us a pitcher of ale and some glasses, clean glasses."

I took some satisfaction in the fact that not only was the inn a dive and a cesspool, but after being in a ten-day bender and not bathing, I was no better, and these two had to sit next to me. I ran shaking hand through my lank, greasy hair and turned a bleary eye on Hammer. "What are you still doing with this asshole, Ham? You know he's just keeping you down."

"You stink," was the large man's gravely answer, and I smiled and began to chuckle. I had always liked Hammer the best of the two. The odd looking breed with touches of both dwarf and ogre was huge and built for strength and endurance, but it was a little known fact he had a tender heart. And a sensitive nose. Still, he let that slime-bucket Cutler do all his talking, and I was in no mood for either of them right now.

"You know, that really hurts, song-boy, it really does. And here we just came to help you out." The snickering, mock-hurt sound of Cutler's voice was grating on my already frayed nerves, and I turned on him.

"I don't need your help, I don't want your help. Just go away and leave me alone!" Ok, so it was hardly eloquent or profound. I was just happy it had been coherent.

"Ok, Hammer, lets let this sad fuck stew in his own juices. Silly us, thinking he'd want to know where Rhiannon is." The two made as if to leave, but with strength born of desperation, I placed my hands on their shoulders and forced them both back to their seats.

"What'd you say?"

"Hey look, the sloppy drunk finally woke up."

"Stow it, Cutler. If you know something, spill it." My voice was tight and laced with desperate urgency. "Please, if you know where Rhiannon is, tell me"

"Gee, and I thought we were just pond scum, Hammer an' me. Now you need us? It's a sad day for you, my friend--hey!"

I lunged towards Cutler, my fist zeroing in on his face, but Hammer placed one of his meaty hands on my shoulder and slammed me back down in my seat and I punched nothing but air.

"Dammit," I groaned, and huddled over the table, suddenly not feeling so well. The last thing I remember before I passed out was an awful burning rising up in my belly and then spewing the remains of my last meal all over a stricken Cutler.

---

Life is all about enjoying the small pleasures in life. Its all one big crap shoot anyways that ends with you buried six feet deep in a hole covered with dirt, so you might as well enjoy the little moments as you can. Watching Cutler furiously try to clean off of his shirt the smelly toxic mess I threw up on him brought a grin to my face. Listening to him curse loudly and imaginatively while giving up and taking the ruined article off made me laugh out right.

Which was probably a mistake as I was in the process of being dunked repeatedly by Hammer in a horse trough and I ended up swallowing enough water to drown a fish, but hey, it was still funny watching Cutler.

As for the water, well I can only assume it was Hammer's well meaning attempt to introduce a much lacking element of sobriety into my life, but the result was only one wet and bedraggled bard who promptly began throwing up all of the water he had just swallowed. This, I must admit, did splash onto Hammer, but only his boots as most of it hit the dirt between the two of us. There was nothing left but water in my stomach any matter---all of the good stuff had already been deposited on Cutler's shirt.

Still drunk but now wide awake from the frigid bath, I was dragged unceremoniously through town. I did not recognize the destination until I was dumped on the floor of a small but well appointed living room. I struggled into an upright position, contemplating the wisdom of trying to stand, and found myself facing a stony-faced Destry.

The former assassin was sitting in a comfortable-looking chair by a small fireplace, a small flame burning away. She said nothing, merely looked at me, watching, waiting, I suppose.

Now, Destry is as good a friend as I have ever had in life, and someone I have trusted my life and even some of my secrets with, but she is not a real outgoing, friendly people-kinda person, if you know what I mean. Not many people who make murder a profession are, and she was no exception. She had a few ground rules to dealing with her, and I broke most of them when I struck her in the Tavern.

I gulped air as I took al this in, and I scrambled to find a seat on a low stool opposite the nightblade. I glared at the terrible twosome for delivering me into such a situation. Some friends they were.

"Oh, for crying out loud, Tan," snapped the raven-haired Destry, "I didn't have you brought here just so I could get some payback for the Tavern, so quit looking at Cutler and Hammer like they just earned their thirty pieces of silver!"

"So what am I doing here?" My voice sounded weak and pathetic even to my own ears, and it set off a coughing jag as I tried to expel more water from my lungs.

"Where'd you find him?" Destry addressed the question to a still grumpy Cutler, cooling ignoring my presence.

"A dive down near the docks, a real pisser of a place. Sign over the door says its called the Swan, but most folks I know call it 'Plague Alley.' Songboy here looks like he'd been there a while, he pretty much stuck to his seat when Hammer tried to pick him up." The distaste and pity was thick in Cutler's voice as he related to Destry the events down at the bar, and that was something. Cutler and Hammer were so deep in the underworld of Portico it was amazing the could stand the light of day, and they were disparaging the depths I had sunk to?

Destry listened to the narrative impassively, not once looking at me, then stood when it was over. "Thank you gentleman, that will be all. You can go now."

"'Scuse me? Did you just dismiss me? Who do you... but we haven't even told him yet where Rhi-" Cutler was stopped in mid rant by his better half clamping a huge hand on his shoulder and dragging him towards the door. Hammer had taken the measure of Destry, and he knew her rep. He and Cutler did not mix much with her, and that was because she did not like them. The big guy may look slow and dumb, but sometimes I think he is the real brains of the outfit and only lets Cutler hang on to his coat tails for gratitude. But that's another story. Hammer knew when Destry said to leave, then you best be doing that. He dragged his sputtering partner along with him and closed the door on their way out.

"I'll never know why you associate with those two, but I suppose they do have their uses. They found you for me."

To be honest, I was still not sure whether that was a good thing or not. We may be friends, but like I said, she has a rep in town, and I did break the rules. So you can understand my confusion and apprehension when suddenly found the nightblade by my side, her arm around me as she gently helped me up and led me to her bed.

"Tanilen, what are we supposed to do with you?" For the first time there was some emotion in Destry's voice, and it sounded suspiciously like concern mixed with exasperation.

"Um ugh oh" I said cleverly as she got me out of my dirty pants and wet shirt. There was no embarrassment at being naked in front of her as we have been off and on lovers for the better part of the last five years, but I did feel very vulnerable, and still not quite in full possession of my faculties, kept looking for the hidden knife that would slice me open.

"Well, whatever we do, first things first. You need a bath--you stink, you are disgustingly dirty, and I am not putting you in my bed until that's changed." She led my to a large bronze tub and guided me in. It was full water that was still warm from, I suppose, her own bath, and was scented with sandalwood oil. Destry left me to soak while she removed a cast iron kettle from the fire. "I was heating this water for my evening tea and clean my dishes with, but I think you could use it more."

I yelped as the intensely hot water was dumped into the tub and flooded around me. I tried to get out, but a strong hand on my shoulder kept me down. Soon enough, I got used to the hot water and muscles I had not even noticed yet that were sore began loosing up. Destry took up a stiff-haired scrub brush and proceeded to expertly scour me clean of dirt.

I wanted to accuse her of wielding that brush with a little too much relish, and it felt like she was taking off a layer of skin or two with her ministrations, but I wisely kept my silence. When she was done, she had me stand in the tub and poured a bucket of cold water over my head, rinsing the now dirty bath water off me. I sputtered a bit as the icy stream sluiced over my freshly pink and tender skin, but I still refused to complain.

I took the towel she handed me and stepped from the tub and dried off as best I could.

"Listen, you and I need to talk, a long talk, my boy. But first you need to sleep off that poison from Plague Alley you been stewing in lately. So get some sleep. I'll deal with you in the morning."

There was something in the way she said that last bit that made me gulp and wonder what the dark and dangerous beauty had in store for me. I climbed into the bed and crawled under the thick and heavy blankets, suddenly convinced that if I was to die in the morning, there were definitely worse places to spend your last night than in Destry's bed. Compared to where I had spent the last week or so, this bed was a luxury finer than any ever experienced by the king of Decellos.

An impish thought struck me and before I could quash it and behave, I held the sheets open to Destry and waggled my eyebrows in an outrageous invitation. The nightblade just scowled at me and snorted. "Not on your life, songboy! I have things to do, and you still owe me heavy penance." She put a lot of menace into her voice, but damn me if I did not catch a ghost of a smile tugging at her pouty lips before she blew out the candle and left me alone in the dark room.

---

When I woke up the next morning, I felt a thousand times better, physically, than I had in who knows how long. I was sober, for one thing, and that was a mixed blessing, as it turned out, because now I had an unclouded mind to mull over how I was going to make things better with Destry.

She was in the little kitchen area, cooking us some breakfast, and I smelled coffee brewing, so I persuaded my abused limbs to move. There was a clean set of clothing waiting for me on a chair, and I noticed they were my own, a pair of breeches and a shirt I had not seen in a long time and I presumed I must have left them here at somepoint. Goddess knows what she did with the clothes I had been wearing last night--burned them, I hope.

I did my best to be unobtrusive as I filled a mug with coffee from the kettle hanging over the fireplace. I settled into a chair at a small, intimate table, and awaited my fate stoically. At least if I was about to die, I would do so after a good night's sleep and a cup of decent coffee in me.

Destry placed a large platter of rolls, butter and porridge on the table and took the seat opposite me. She reached for a large knife in the middle of the platter and I could not help it, I flinched.

"Relax, Tanilen. Goddess, we've been friends forever; I'm not going to kill you, at least not till after you tell me what the hell is going on and who that woman is."

"Sorry," I mumbled and meekly took a roll and smothered it in preserves. "Its really not that good a story and basically pretty-"

"Indulge me."

I sighed. Her voice was the sound of steel wrapped in silk, and when she used that tone, there was not use going against her. It could be bad for your health.

"Alright, this goes back to when I was still just an apprentice, learning how to be a bard from Rhinegar." I paused and Destry nodded. I had told her this much of my past. Rhinegar had been more than just a mentor to me, he had also been a replacement for the family that had taken away from me. Actually, he was better than my real family, and whenever I find myself getting nostalgic for 'home' or the 'good ol' days' its more often then not the time spent with the old bard that I am thinking of.

"I had been travelling with Rhinegar maybe a few months, maybe half a year, and I was getting pretty good. I already knew how to play instruments and such before I met him, but I mean I was finally getting good at using my talents to entertain people, learning how to read an audience and tailor a performance to them, how to use my craft to subtly alter their perceptions or attitudes.

"We came to this one village and did our usual, trading a night's room and board and any tips thrown on stage for performing in the local inn. And that's where I first saw her. She was just a bitty thing, she looked. But already you could see the promise of the wild beauty in her--hair like burnished gold and those eyes that can just stare right through you and to your soul. She was a waitress at the inn, and was wearing the same tight bodice and skirt slit to her waist that the other, older girls were wearing, and I think my heart skipped a beat when I saw her."

I paused from my story to sip my coffee and I let my memories rush over me. There was so much I have tried to forget over the last decade, but life always seems to have a way of making you remember. I closed my eyes and I was suddenly back in that crowded and dimly lit inn. I was sweating from the heat of the torches lighting the stage and energy of performing the ballads with Rhinegar, but I was able to put that aside every time I saw the pretty little blonde gazing at us raptly.

I think it was love at first sight for me. Or something similar. Goddess knows it threw my performance off as I found it hard to focus on what I was doing. But Rhinegar, if he noticed, said nothing, and just played louder to cover my gaffe's.

I wasn't the only one letting a distraction impair their jobs, and I saw the owner have sharp words with Rhiannon, for that's who it was, several times whenever he caught her watching us instead of serving the customers. Actually, had I paid attention, I would have known she was staring at Rhinegar, not me, but youth is egotistical by nature, and I assumed her adoration was for myself.

We were nearing the end of the set when a commotion distracted the audience. The owner apparently grew tired of the blonde girl's inattention and he began yelling at her and dragger her towards the kitchen. I could not hear exactly what was being said, but I knew it was not friendly and was all set to head after them but I felt Rhinegar's hand on my shoulder and he shook his head once.

The old fox had been paying attention, of course, and knew exactly what had been distracting me, and what I was probably foolishly going to do. I fumed, but we finished the song and left the stage after collecting the scant coins that had been tossed our way. It was not much, but it was our life.

We made our way to the guest rooms, but I paused to stop another waitress as she passed us carrying a large tray of beer.

"Excuse me, miss, but can you tell me where the other waitress is, the young blonde one?"

The girl, a surly looking brunette who already looked aged beyond her years, looked me up and down, appraising, then gave me a sneering smile. "Trask threw her out, fired her. Said he did not pay his girls to fool around with no minstrels. Not when we have paying customers."

Her knowing tone left no doubt exactly what it was Trask expected of his girls, and it was all I could do not to wipe that smug smile of the brunette's face, but Rhinegar dragged me along behind him.

"Come along, Tanilen," he said in that gentle voice of authority. "We had a long performance, and we must be on the road early in the morning." And that was the end of it.

Or so I thought, until the next morning when I went to the stable to ready our horses while Rhinegar negotiated breakfast. Trask was a petty, cheap old bastard, and we had to care for our own animals, but at least he let us stable them in the barn. I opened the door to Rhihegar's horse, ready to brush and feed her, and found my little blonde huddled in the corned, wrapped in a tattered blanket and covered in straw.

"Please, please don't tell." Rhi whispered and the fright was plain in her eyes. I was too thunderstruck to say anything, and was barely able to nod.

Hope, a fragile spark of it, lit her magnificent eyes, as she regarded me. "You're with that bard, aren't you?" Again I could only nod. "This is his horse?" It may have been a question, but her voice left little room for doubt, and I once again mutely nodded.

"He has to take me with him!" She pleaded. "Do you think he will let me come with him?"

Having her travel with us was something beyond my wildest dreams, and I was still trying to find my voice when another broke the silence.

"Well, what do we have here? A stowaway, and us not even on a boat?" The voice was that of my gentle and kindhearted master, but both of us, the girl me I, jumped when he entered the little stall.

Rhiannon was the first to recover, and dropping her blanket, she threw herself at Rhinegar's feet and sobbed. "Please, you have to take me with you! I have no where else to go. I can cook and clean and even sing a little bit." She paused and looked down. "I can even keep your blankets warm. Trask trained me real well."

Cold rage burned deep within me and I gripped the hilt of my dagger tightly until my knuckles turn white and my hands cramped. I hated Trask, simple as that. Somebody needed to teach that old lecher a lesson, and I was foolishly thinking that I was the one to do it, never mind the fact I was only sixteen summers and still growing awkwardly into my body and him a great big hulk of a man and a veteran of some hard campaigning, if the war trophies decorating the inn were any clue.

Rhinegar apparently sensed my rage and its reckless ambition, and placed a calming hand on my shoulder. "Steady lad. Better to focus your boundless energy on something you can accomplish, like helping me take this bonny lass to a better place."

I still don't think Rhi knew what she was getting into joining us, I sure as hell know we didn't know we were getting into. But that's for later.

The gentle old bard helped the little blonde to her feet and re-wrapped the tattered blanket around her thin shoulders. "Now, lass, there'll be no need for that, not with us. And we can certainly take you with us, at least for a little bit until we can find a better place for you. I know some very nice people who could use help in their tavern's and they are not like Trask at all, at all."

"But I want to stay with you!" She exclaimed, a hint of hysteria tingeing her voice. "I wanna-want to be a bard too!"

Rhinegar patted her head gently, soothing the anxious Rhiannon, no doubt intending to humor her until we reached the next village. There was indeed a tavern there, run by an older couple who were as unlike Trask as sunshine from darkness. I always looked forward to our stays with them, as they were a kind a generous people who treated Rhinegar and me like family. And last time we had been through, one of their daughters had just gotten betrothed, and belike they could be using some extra help now.

We left Trask's tavern with Rhi sitting behind me on my horse, her arms wrapped around my waist and her head resting on my shoulder. A feeling of protectiveness welled up in me, as well as other feelings I was not used to dealing with.

We camped out that night in a clearing well off the road, close to a stream, and I did my attentive best to learn as much about our new companion as I could. But Rhiannon was as reluctant to discuss her past as was I. She was only a few years younger than me, fourteen I think and I learned nothing more than she was a run away and had been on her own for several years. Her stay at Trask's had been short--only a few months.

Rhi's reticence, which I took for shyness, lasted all evening and through our small meal, and I was despairing of being able to draw her from her shell. Disappointed, I started my lessons with Rhinegar after we ate, and I practiced a new song he was teaching me. It was a complex tune, with lots of difficult chord changes. It was also ancient and fairly obscure.

And then it happened. A voice joined in as I began the chorus, a smoky contralto that sent tingles down my spine and the blood rushing to my cock. I looked up in amazement to see Rhi, pacing nervously across the fire from me, her eyes screwed shut in concentration, giving words to the music I was playing. Had been playing, I should correct, as the mandolin laid mutely in my hands as I gazed enraptured at my little muse and her big voice.

As Destry had said, it wasn't that it was the best voice I had ever heard--Rhiannon's range is limited, especially in the higher notes, and at the point, she was obviously unschooled and raw, but dear goddess, the emotion she packed into that voice that belied her small size! Even under Rhinegar's patient tutelage in the techniques of music, she never lost that honey-drenched-gravel sound that has been and always will be the most erotic sound imaginable.

All thoughts of leaving her with Rhinegar's friends evaporated on the spot and Rhi earned a place in out family that instant with her impromptu audition. For two years we traveled together, the three of us, performing all over the Empire. It was the happiest time of my life, or so I thought. I dunno. Maybe it was.

For the first three months or so. Rhiannon followed Rhinegar around like a little puppy after that first night. It was her life's dream, she confided to us, to be a bard, to explore and travel the world and sing. She was friendly to me, but doted on the old bard. He was the living example of her desires, and I was just another student like her. I was jealous of the attention she gave him, and the way my clumsy attempts to woo her were ignored.

I was frustrated and confused about her. Every night, listening to her sing, watching her perform on the crude stages in the bars and taverns as she intuitively moved and worked the crowds in a way I knew I could never hope to match. Every eye always focused on her angelic face and artlessly seductive movements, every ear poised to catch every drop of her honey-sweet voice.

And I was just as ensorcelled as they. Worse, because I had to live and travel with her, always knowing she slept just scant feet from me, yet separated by what felt like a colossal chasm. She was everything my young body lusted for, and she ignored me.

Then one night, we were staying at an inn owned by close friends of my master's and they had, as it turned out, plenty of open rooms available, and I got the rare luxury of having a small room to myself. I had gone up there after our performance, and fell promptly asleep, only to be awoken some time later when my door opened and I sensed someone entering.

I sat up in bed and reached for my dagger under the pillow when a small form hurtled itself at me and I found myself cradling a sobbing Rhiannon.

"Rhi, Rhi, what's wrong? What's the matter?" I asked softly, frantically, pathetically trying to find a way to still her tears. I got no answer, only more tears and I held her closer to me.

I realized at that point, and it still holds true, that there is nothing that makes me feel more awkward and powerless than a woman I care about crying. I had no idea what to do or say, I only knew that something was wrong and I would go to the ends of the earth to fix it if I only knew what it was. But some things you can't fix, and that's not what is always needed. Sometimes the woman just needs someone to hold her while she cries, no matter how painful it is to watch.

That's the theory, at least according to some folks. I still try and fix whatever I perceive the problem to be. But that night, holding Rhiannon was all I could think to do as I let her cry herself out. I was acutely aware of her body against my own, and every time her body moved as she sobbed against me, I felt her breast rub into my arm. She was dressed only in a light sleeping shift that exposed tantalizing views of her olive skin and lean legs and thighs. I exercised all of the discipline a sixteen year-old male could muster and tried to sit in a manner, her body cradled into mine, that did not entail my rampant hard-on from pressing into her.

Slowly, her crying subsided, and she quieted in my arms. I though she might have fallen asleep, and I sat motionless for what seemed an eternity, my muscles cramping from sitting too long in an awkward position, as I futilely thought of someway to extricate myself from her without waking so I could let her have the bed and I would sleep on the floor.

That was my plan, at least. Rhi was not asleep, and as soon as I started to move, she tilted her head up to mine. Tears had tracked all the way down her face, and her eyes were red, but I still found myself drawn into her gold and green irises, lost in their timeless depth.

"Thank you." It was barely a whisper, so faint her voice, but it rang loudly in my ears. I had done something, however small, to help my angel, my muse. I tried to say something, to tell her it was alright, but I couldn't. I just stared lost in her eyes. She reached up at that point, and gave me a quick kiss. It was chaste kiss, but the moment her lips touched mine, my world changed. I bent down and kissed her. It was a longer kiss, but not by much, as it was all I dared to do, but how emboldened I felt at doing that much!

Her eyes widened in surprise at my kiss, then smoldered in gold fire and she reached up to wrap her arms around my neck and dragged me down for a real kiss, my first.

While my own life, such as the hands of fate had dealt me up to that point, may not have afforded me any experience with matters of love, the same could not be said of Rhiannon. My sweet little blonde nymph used that kiss to take control of the situation, and me. She sustained it, her sweet tongue shyly probing the inner edges of my lips, and then seeking my own. I returned her kiss with as much passion as I knew, and if I substituted exuberance for technique, she did not seem to mind.

Rhiannon had my cotton shirt off before I was even aware what she was about, and her small hand ran themselves up and down my chest, bringing goosebumps with them where ever they went.

"Rhi," my voice squeaked with confusion and overriding desire, "What are we doing? What's wrong?" Silly me, I was still thinking that I was the one taking advantage of her, and I was afraid of her doing something she would regret in the morning. I desired her with every bone in my youthful body, but I was afraid of ruining it with a single night's dalliance. I wanted her for every night, not just one.

But whatever Rhiannon thought of my dilemma, she was mute. She simply laid back on my bed, one had idly playing with the buttons of her thin shift, while the other curled its finger and beckoned me. The fire in her eyes could have set the inn aflame had she not directed it at me. Instead, I was the one that burned up in the passion of her love.

My fingers, so nimble and supple on the strings of my mandolin, were thick and clumsy as they sought to aid her in undressing. I ended up ripping more buttons off then not, but neither of us cared as we were soon both naked and in each other's arms.

We tried kissing again, and this time I opened my mouth to hers and I learned, mimicking her, to use my tongue to explore her mouth. Our hands were not idle either, as I could not get enough of exploring her delightful body. Sweet goddess...

The exploration and kissing came to a sudden halt when I felt her small fingers caressing, then cupping, my cock and balls. We both froze for a moment, then I moved to eagerly and quickly consummate what she had begun. She spread her legs for me, impelled by her own need, and drew my pulsing cock into her intimate depths.

I nearly lost it as soon as I felt her tight pussy wrap itself around me, but managed to hold off. I began thrusting in frantically and with little rhythm, only seeking to get as much out of it before I did pop. Rhiannon, for her part, did seem to be enjoying herself, but in the end (which of course came quickly), I gave in to my orgasm and shot me seed inside a woman for the first time.

Sweating, panting, and blissfully proud of myself, I rolled off of my new lover, but I learned that she was not done. Something I learned early from her is that she is very demanding of her own pleasure, and she is not shy about seeking it.

Taking my hand in hers, she drew me down to the juncture between her legs. I felt her hot breath on my ears, and she whispered directions to me. I slipped my finger between her puffy folds, and felt her molten heat surround my digit. Under her urgings, I soon learned how to finger her pussy the way she did when she was alone.

I was nervous and awkward yet insatiably turned on and curious as well, and I applied the same devotion to detail I used with my bardic training on my new 'lessons,' eager to please Rhi. I soon had her bucking under my hand, her head thrashing against the pillow as she had her own climax. I tried to withdraw my finger, but her thighs clamped down around me and she used her own hands to hold my own in place. I was awed as she came several more times, grinding her cunt against my palm, her pussy clenching tightly to my fingers.

By this time, I was hard again. Rhiannon pushed my back on the bed and straddled my stomach. She leaned forward and kissed me once more before sliding back until I felt her wet quim enveloping my rigid shaft again. We took it a little slower this time, and I last longer than before, but soon enough we both reached one last final release in each other. We fell asleep in a sweaty tangle of blankets and bodies and I thought that I had finally reached heaven.

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and looked up to find Destry behind me. I was so lost in my memories of Rhi, I must have fallen silent.

The nightblade handed me a fresh mug of coffee which I tool gratefully and drank the hot liquid down.

"So that was your first time?"

"Uh-huh." I sipped more of the coffee, letting it work some of the tension out of me.

"And this relationship continued, I take it? What of Rhinegar? And what drove her into your arms in the first place?"

"Yes, we continued to sleep together after that, though at first I was embarrassed and tried to hide it from Rhinegar. Any time we were alone together, like bathing or washing clothes in the river, or if he left us for short bits at camps or in rented rooms while he talked to old friends, we would make love like crazy.

"But my master is not a fool, and I'm sure he expected something of the kind would happen eventually when he took on a male and female students of compatible age. He did not try and stop us, and I know for a fact he went out of his way to arrange for more 'alone' time for Rhi and me. We started getting separate rooms in the inns more often after that, for one thing."

I drained my coffee and refilled it and Destry's with the last of the kettle, then put more on over the fire.

"So you became young lovers. What happened in the end? And why was it so painful to you?" There was none of Destry's usual mocking in her voice, only genuine concern for a friend, and I was grateful. I have never been much of one to talk about myself, about my trials and tribulations. Oh, I am a bard, but my tales are of others, and if I do share tales of myself, it is light hearted and mostly tall tales. The real stuff, what I was doing with Destry, was hard for me. But curiously, I was feeling better about it now that I had started.

"We were lovers for two years, and in that time, I counted myself as the happiest man in the Empire. I was convinced that I loved her--she was all I could think about when I was awake, and all I dreamed about at night--and I thought she felt the same way. I figured we would get married as soon as we both earned our journeymen's status as bards.

"But there were two things I learned about Rhiannon in the time, and the first was that she had a limitless capacity for pleasure, and in that I was her eager student, determined to plumb the depths of her ecstasy. But the other was she also had unmatched ambition. Rhi came from less then nothing as a child growing up, and she did not want to die that way. I would see the way she would watch the wealthy and the privileged that we came across, and I could read in her the thought, as clearly if she had spoken it, that she was as good as any of them, and just as deserving of their riches and power as they.

"More so, in fact." I paused and looked into the cheerful little fire, depressed. "If I could read her so clearly, then why was I so blind? I thought I could be more important to her than fame and riches, as she was to me, but I was wrong. But in the end, I guess the choice was mine."

"How so?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, not happy when the memories being forced to the front. "She wanted to leave Rhinegar, to set off on our own. She felt stifled by out mentors small time towns and taverns we played. She wanted to travel to the Kingdom and take our chances in some of the bigger cities. She begged and pleaded with me to come with her. We fought, she cried and said she would leave me. This went on for three months, every night the same argument. She made ultimatums to chose her or Rhinegar, and I made ultimatums back, to chose me and our love, or her career and fame. I was arrogant and held fast to staying with Rhinegar, the two of us, out of respect and appreciation and for what he had done for me, because it was the right thing to do.

"But mostly because I never believed she could really choose fame and riches over marrying me, and so if I stayed with Rhinegar, she would too."

Destry cocked her head and regarded me, and I wondered if it was pity or sympathy I saw in her eyes. "You made your choice. I take it she made hers, too?"

I nodded, weary and tired suddenly of dredging the past. "She left me. Both of us, I mean--Rhiannon left Rhinegar and I one day in a free territories town. We had taken a contract to entertain at the birthday party for a warlord's son, and the son decided he liked Rhiannon best of all his presents that day. And Rhi must have agreed, because at the end of the night, she did not come back to our room at the inn, and when we found her still at the warlord's estate, she had a bright, keen gleam in her green-gold eyes and she told us she would no longer be travelling with us. She had accepted a position as the warlord's personal minstrel. She could no longer wait for me to make up my mind, and she found someone who could help her when I refused to.

"I was shocked and upset, but Rhinegar managed to get me out of there and on the road before I made a scene or a jackass out of me."

I set my mug on her counter with a loud thud, making the pots and pans on it jangle in metallic annoyance. "That was the last time I saw her, until the Tavern last week. Ten years have gone by. It took me forever to get over her betrayal--in fact, I was a wreck for six months after that, then Rhinegar died of a heart spasm and I was alone again. That was the only thing that shook me out of it was having to take on all of Rhinegar's responsibilities and duties. I had to prove to myself I was worthy of being his successor, and that was the only way I could get over my heart break."

"And then she came back." Destry quirked a dark eyebrow as she considered my tale.

"Aye, and then she came back, and left again."

"And I know where she is now..." Destry let that last bit trail along as I considered whether or not I really wanted to know...

Continued in Chapter 2

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