The Priest took himself out, leaving her still dazed.
She didn't know what to think. How much money was "not very much"? Assuming that Brother Bryan only got a fraction of what the contents of the shop were worth-and she did not doubt that he would drive a very hard bargain indeed, both for her sake, and the Church's-that was still more money than she had ever had in her life. What was she to do with it? It beggared the pouch full of silver she'd gotten from the Ghost. . . .
She fell asleep, still trying to comprehend it.
This time, her dreams about Jib were troubled. He was plainly unhappy; scorned by the villagers, abused by Stara, ordered about by everyone. And yet, he had nowhere to go. He had no money saved, no prospects-
The village toughs still bullied him, and without Rune to protect him, he often sported bruises or a black eye. They laughed at him for being a coward, but what was he to do? If he fought them, they'd only hurt him further or complain that he had picked the fight, not they. They never came at him by ones or twos, only in a gang.
He'd had an offer from a horse-trader a month ago, an honest man who had been stopping at the Bear for as long as Jib could recall-if he had some money, the man would let him buy into the string and learn the business, eventually to take it over when the trader settled down to breeding. That was the answer to his prayers-but he had no money. The trader would keep the offer open as long as he could, but how long would he wait? A year? More? No matter how long he waited, Jib would still never have it. He got no pay; he'd get no pay for as long as Stara was holding the purse-strings. If he went elsewhere, he might earn pay in addition to his keep, but only if he could produce a good reference, and Stara would never let Jeoff give him one if he left.
He worked his endless round of chores with despair his constant companion. . . .
Rune woke with a start. And she knew at that moment exactly what she was going to do.
The days were warm now, and so were the nights-warm enough to sleep out, at any rate. Now was the time to leave; she'd be at the Faire when it opened if she left now.
But leaving meant good-byes. . . .
She hugged everyone, from Ruby to the new little kitchen-boy, with a lump in her throat. She'd been happier here than anyplace else in her life. If Tonno were still alive, she might have put this off another year.
Not now. It was go now, or give up the dream. Tonno's memory wouldn't let her do that.
"We're sorry to see you leave, Rune," Amber said with real regret, when Rune hugged her good-bye, her balance a little off from the unaccustomed weight of her packs. "But Tonno and I always knew this place wouldn't hold you longer than a year or two. We're glad you stayed this long."
Rune sighed. "I'm sorry too," she confessed. "But-I can't help it, Amber. This is something I have to do. At least I found you a replacement for me."
"And a good one," Diamond said, with a wink. "She'll do just fine. She's already giving Carly hives."
"She doesn't want to do anything else but work as a street-busker, so you'll have her for as long as you want her," Rune continued. "I was very careful about that."
"I know you were, dear," Amber said, and looked at the pouch of coin in her hand. "I wish you'd take this back. . . ."
Rune shook her head stubbornly. "Save it, if you won't use it. Save it for an emergency, or use it for bribes; it's not a lot, but it ought to keep the lower-level Church clerks happy. I know that's what Tonno would like, and it'd be a good way to honor his memory."
Half of the money she'd gotten from the sale of the shop she'd given to Amber, to repay her for all the expense she'd gone to in nursing Rune back to health. A quarter of it had been sent to Jib, via the Gypsies, with a verbal message-"Follow your dream." There were things the Gypsies were impeccably honest about, and one of them was in keeping pledges. They'd vowed on their mysterious gods to take the money to Jib without touching a penny. Once it had gone, she'd ceased to have nightmares about him.
The remaining quarter, minus the Gypsies' delivery-fee, and the things she'd needed for the trip, ought to be just enough to get her to the Midsummer Faire and the trials for the Bardic Guild. She had a new set of faded finery, a new pack full of books, and the strength that had taken so long to regain was finally back. She was ready.
Amber kissed her; the way a fond mother would. "You'd better go now, before I disgrace myself and cry," the Madam ordered sternly. "Imagine! Amber, in tears, on the steps of her own brothel-and over a silly little fiddler-girl!" She smiled brightly, but Rune saw the teardrops trembling at the corners of her eyes and threatening to spill over.
To prevent that, she started another round of hugs and kisses that included all of them. Except Carly, who was nowhere to be seen.
Probably telling the Church that I'm running away with my ill-gotten gains.
"Well, that's it," she said at last, as nonchalantly as if she was about to cross the town, not the country. "I'm off. Wish me luck!"
She turned and headed off down the street for the east gate, turning again to walk backwards and wave good-bye.
She thought she saw Amber surreptitiously wipe her eyes on the corner of her sleeve, before returning the wave brightly. Her own throat knotted up, and to cover it, she waved harder, until she was forced to round a corner that put them all out of sight.
Then she squared her shoulders beneath her pack, and started on her journey; destination, the Midsummer Faire.
And Tonno, she thought, as she passed below the gates and took to the road. This one's for you, too. Always for you.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
All the world comes to the Midsummer Faire at Kingsford.
That's what they said, anyway-and it certainly seemed that way to Rune, as she traveled the final leg down from Nolton, the Trade Road that ran from the Holiforth Pass to Traen, and from there to Kingsford and the Faire Field across the Kanar River from the town. She wasn't walking on the dusty, hard-packed road itself; she'd likely have been trampled by the press of beasts, then run over by the carts into the bargain. Instead, she walked with the rest of the foot-travelers on the road's verge. It was no less dusty, what grass there had been had long since been trampled into powder by all the feet of the fairgoers, but at least a traveler was able to move along without risk of acquiring hoofprints on his anatomy.
Rune was close enough now to see the gates of the Faire set into the wooden palisade that surrounded it, and the guard beside them. This seemed like a good moment to separate herself from the rest of the throng, rest her tired feet, and plan her next moves before entering the grounds of the Faire.
She elbowed her way out of the line of people, some of whom complained and elbowed back, and moved away from the road to a little hillock under a forlorn sapling, where she had a good view of the Faire, a scrap of shade, and a rock to sit on. The sun beat down with enough heat to warm the top of her head through her soft leather hat. She plopped herself down on the rock and began massaging her tired feet while she looked the Faire over.