She sensed that he was about to add something else, then he took a look at her and left the words unsaid. She knew what they were, of course_that she was not to offer "extra services" to the customers.
"We don't argue if the customer brings a_a friend here, and wants a room to share for_oh, a couple of hours," he said finally, "but we don't offer him things like that here."
"Oh, please," she said, exasperated. "I've been on the road most of my life. You don't have whores, and you do have an arrangement with the Whores' Guild, I take it, so you don't allow your entertainers to freelance their sexual services?"
He looked just as startled as he had when she had suggested that she might not want to work here, but again, he nodded.
She suppressed a smile. Well, occasionally clothing does make the person, it appears. I dress like a Churchgoing country girl, he assumes that's what I am! I wonder what he'll think when he sees some of my performing clothing? Perhaps that I am some mental chameleon!
"That will be fine with me_" she began, but he held up his hand to forestall her.
"There's only one more rule," he told her. "That's the one you might not like. No puttin' out a hat."
She raised one eyebrow as high as it would go. "Just how am I supposed to make a living, may I ask?" she said, more than a bit arrogantly. "No one has ever made that part of my arrangements before."
He flushed and looked apologetic. "That's the rule. There's a charge at the door t' get in. You get a salary, an' it depends on how big a draw you are. Lowest is five coppers each shift, highest_well, we only had one person ever get highest, that was a half-royal."
A half-royal? The equivalent five gold pieces? It was Nightingale's turn to stare at him with mouth agape. Very few Guild Bards were ever granted that kind of money, and no Free Bard that Nightingale had ever heard of_not even Talaysen, Laurel Bard to a King, was ever paid that much!
"So in other words, I'm on trial until you see what kind of an audience I can collect," she said, finally, after she had gotten over her astonishment. "And I have to take your word for what I'm worth."
He lifted his shoulders, apologetically. "That's the terms; that's what the boss set," he replied.
She considered it for a moment, leaving her own pride out of it. This wasn't entirely a bad thing. She could, if she decided it was worth it, exert herself only enough to pay for her army of children. She had shelter, food, and an excellent venue to hear a great deal. A place like this one would be very popular, not only with working-class folk, but with those with wealth and jaded appetites_or a taste for "uncommon" entertainment. If she had petitioned the Lady of the Night for the perfect place for her information-gathering, she could not have come up with anything better.
Most of all, she would only have to work six hours of every day; that left her at least six to make her own investigations, provided she cared to exert herself that much. She could make herself as conspicuous, or as inconspicuous here as she wanted.
In fact, that was not a bad idea. She could play the exotic Gypsy to the hilt here within these four walls_but her persona outside the tavern could be as plain as a little sparrow. No one would connect Nightingale with_whatever she called herself in here.
And if she did that_well, she might not find herself in the "half-royal" category, but she was fairly certain that the five coins she would earn each shift would be silver, not copper.
"I believe I can live with these terms," she said, without bothering to try and strike a better bargain. Not that there would be much point to trying_the price a Deliambren set was not subject to bargaining. One accepted, or one did without.
"Excellent!" The man positively beamed. "I saw that you had harps; we don't have any harp players right now. I can put you up in the Oak Grove, that's on the third floor, far enough away from the dancing that you shouldn't have any trouble with noise. What shift?"
"Supper to midnight," she replied immediately, and he beamed again.
"Perfect! Let's go check the front desk and find out what room you've got_ah_" He looked a little embarrassed. "I didn't catch your name_"
"That's because I didn't give it to you," she replied, softening the words with a faint smile, as she ran a list of possible alternative names in her mind. She would save "Nightingale" for now_just in case this Deliambren was already part of her friend's little plot. "My name is Lyrebird."
He nodded with approval. "The lyre's a harp right? Got a nice sound to it_I'm Kyran, by the way, Kyran Horat."
She held out her hand, and he shook it, in the way of Gypsies sealing a bargain. "Welcome to Freehold, Lyrebird," he said heartily. "I think you'll be happy here. You can lighten up now; the bargaining is over."
She chuckled, then looked away from him and out over the expanse of the building and all it contained. There would be enough people here every night that she_or rather, Lyrebird_as flamboyant as that persona would be, would simply be one more flamboyant entertainer among many. She would earn enough to not only get her covert quest done, but quite possibly turn a profit. This place was built by a Deliambren, so she could probably expect some luxuries in her quarters that Kyran hadn't even seen fit to mention_which was a far sight better than anything she'd find in an ordinary inn. All things considered, this had turned out to be luck of the sort that had eased her journey all the way here.
"I think you're right, Kyran," she replied as she suppressed the shiver that thought brought her. "Shall we find out about that room?"
Luck this good has to break sometime, she thought as she followed him. I only pray that when it does, it does not turn as bad as it has been good!
And if this was the result of that fate, geas, or whatever else had brought her here_well, that turn of good luck to bad, very bad, was all too likely.
Nightingale found nothing to complain about in the room that Kyran assigned to her, except the lack of windows_and on the whole, although it did make her feel a bit closed in, that might have been as much of a benefit as a lack. Certainly there was not going to be much of a view around here, and if the wind happened to come from the wrong direction_well, what traveled on the wind from the direction of the slaughterhouses was nothing she wanted to have to endure.
She surveyed what was likely to be her refuge for the next several weeks, if not months, and on the whole was pleased. There was one light overhead in the main room, a second in the bathroom, both controlled by plates on the wall that one touched_her escort had shown her how to use them, and she had not revealed that she already knew what they were. This was Deliambren light, of course, not an oil lamp or candle; it replicated natural sunlight at about an hour after sunrise; warm, clear, but not too bright. The overall effect with the four walls bare of decoration was of a white box, but that was not altogether bad_Deliambren taste in artwork was not always something she admired, and only the Lady knew who or what had this room before she got it. The one thing this room did boast that was quite out of the ordinary was its own tiny bathroom.