As long as nothing bad happens to them, people they know, or anyone who agrees with them_"Atrocities" only happened to your own land. "Just retribution" was what happened to other people. A cult or a myth was someone else's religion. Your religion was the right and moral way.
Or as the Free Bards put it, "One man's music is another mans noise." As long as people were able to listen to what they called music, they didn't care if "noise" was banned....
Well, this all might be something the Free Bards could do something about, at least if it was at a controllable stage. Maybe that was another "why"_why the Free Bards had come in for the greater share of trouble so far. They poked fun at pompous authority; they made the strange into the familiar. It was very difficult for a person who had heard Linnet's "Pearls and Posies" to think of Gazners as "cold-blooded" for instance_or Wren's own "Spell-bound Captive" to believe that Elves truly had no souls. The Free Bards opened up the world, just a little, to those who had never been beyond their own village boundaries. Jonny knew that Master Wren had wider ideas for the Free Bards than most of them dreamed at the moment. Wren saw his creation as a means to spread information that others would rather not have public_and perhaps he might even have a greater goal than that. But that was enough for Jonny, at least at the moment.
So, this whole situation just might be a state of affairs that Free Bards could do something about. It definitely was something they should know about if it turned out there was a single person behind the persecution!
So_the first thing to do would be to see if he and Robin could track the sermons to their source.
He thought about that for a moment. There were only two of them, and they could only go in one direction. There was Harperus, who would be "looking into things" as well. But what about asking Nightingale as well? She was the one who had stopped to listen to the preachers in the street. She was the one who had given them the most information. She was already observing. If she was willing to expand that a little_
He locked up the wagon, and went in search of Nightingale. He would find out what direction she planned to go when she left the Waymeet. They would go in the opposite direction. Perhaps this little group of Free Bards would be able to find some answers to all their questions. And_dare he hope_solutions as well?
Kestrel sighed, and took up the reins as the first fat drop of rain plopped down on the gravel lane in front of the horses. "An-nother b-beautiful d-day," he said sardonically.
"It could be worse," Robin replied, and patted his knee. "At least the rain held off long enough for our laundry to dry."
"And w-we d-did get that n-nice h-hot b-bath," he admitted. Although it had been something more than a mere "bath"_the bathhouse proved to be the kind that had several small rooms, each furnished with a huge tub, fully large enough for two. It had been well worth the money, all things considered.
"We did. We are clean, the wagon is clean, all our clothing is clean_we just might be presentable enough that they won't throw us out of Westhaven," Robin said, cheerfully.
The horses stamped, showing their impatience, but Kestrel was not going to let them move out just yet. Not until_
A sharp whistle behind him told him that Harperus was about to pull out. The Haspur had once again vanished into the depths of the wagon; Kestrel doubted that more than a handful of people had even glimpsed him during the three days they all camped here. It had been T'fyrr who had spoken to Nightingale and obtained her agreement to reverse her planned course and return to Kingsford, to see if the strange Church activities originated there, or elsewhere. "But then I am going to Birnam," she had said firmly. "I must eat, and I cannot eat if I cannot play."
Kestrel got the feeling that if it hadn't been for T'fyrr, she wouldn't even have agreed to that much.
Harperus' huge vehicle moved slowly into the lane parallel to theirs. Once they reached the trade road, Kestrel planned to follow him for the short period when they would both be going in the same direction. A few leagues up the road, a minor, seldom-used trade-road branched off this one. This was the road to Westhaven, which just happened to be Rune's old home, and that was the direction he and Robin were going, while Harperus and T'fyrr took the main road.
It was Robin's notion to spy on Rune's mother, if she was still there. She wanted to be able to tell Rune something about what was going on in her old haunts; she had told Jonny that she thought Rune would feel less guilty over leaving if she knew her mother was all right.
Personally, Jonny hadn't detected any concern for her mother on Rune's part, but he wasn't a female. There might have been things the two of them said to each other that made Robin think Lady Lark felt guilt over leaving her mother to fend for herself. And one road was as good as another, really_at least, when the road led eventually to Gradford. That particular city had a High Bishop in residence, which made it another logical candidate for information about the Church.
What was more, so far as he was concerned, there was an abbey, Carthell Abbey, lying on that little-used road that linked Westhaven and Gradford. Priests and the like who lived in isolated abbeys liked to talk to visitors; they might say something to give Kestrel a place to start.
How Harperus maneuvered that huge wagon so easily, Kestrel had no notion_but he brought it around smartly and was already on the lane leading to the trade-road by the time Kestrel got his mares in motion. The rear of the wagon was a blank wall; peculiar sort of construction. Wagons were dark enough that most people cut windows everywhere they could.
The new axle performed exactly as Oakhart had promised; they jounced along in Harperus' wake, but thanks to the Deliambren, their course wasn't as bumpy as it could have been. Harperus' wagon was much, much heavier than theirs, and his wheels much broader, although the distance between his left and right wheels was about the same as between theirs. That was why Jonny was letting him lead; as long as he kept their wheels in the ruts left by the Deliambren's wagon, their ride was relatively smooth.
At about noon, they all stopped at the crossroads for a meal; Harperus supplying more of his odd, but tasty food, and Robin offering fresh honey-cakes she had bought at Waymeet.
"Be careful out there," Robin said, as they made their farewells. "If we see you at Gradford, I don't want to see you in trouble!"
"I?" The Deliambren arched an eyebrow at her. "I am a well-known and respectable trader. You, on the other hand, are a disreputable Gypsy, and a Free Bard to boot! I am far more like to see you in a gaol of one sort or another!"
Jonny shivered; after the things that Nightingale had told them, that was no longer very funny. "D-d-don't even j-j-joke about th-that," he said. "L-let's j-just s-say w-w-we'll s-s-see y-you b-b-before M-M-Midw-w-winter."
"So we shall. May your road be easy, friends," Harperus responded, gravely. "Now_if you are to make Westhaven before nightfall _"
"We had better be off." Robin swung herself up into the drivers seat, leaving Jonny to accept Harperus' clap on the shoulder and T'fyrr's handclasp_
_or clawclasp. Or whatever.