Kestrel looked over at her, holding the reins quietly. "Interesting," he said.
She nodded. "I really think we ought to try camping somewhere down the road. Between the bullies and Priests with tales of music that leads you into sin, I'd sooner trust myself to wolves than Westhaven."
"But would ye trust yerselves to ghosts, young friends?" asked a hoarse voice from the shadows of the rear door, across the inn-yard from the sorry excuse for a stable. "An ye would not, turn back 'round and take the long road_or follow th' right-hand fork o' this one."
A stolid woman with a round, red face moved out of the shadows and into the uncertain light of the torch. "She wouldna tell ye, an' he would be just's pleased t'see a sinner come t'grief, but yon's the road over Skull Hill. There be a Ghost there, a murderin' Ghost. It's taken a priest in it's time, no less, so it don't care a tot fer holiness. Yer safe enough by day, but by night, ain't nobbut safe on Skull Hill."
Kestrel nodded, gravely. "Th-thank you, l-lady."
The cook looked pleased at being called "lady." "Tush. Tain't nothin' no decent person wouldna pass warnin' 'bout."
Robin looked closely at the woman; they knew all about the Ghost from Rune, of course, but Rune had described someone very like this woman_one of her few supporters after the innkeeper's first wife had died. The cook_
"Are you Annie Cook?" Robin asked. The woman stared at her, and nodded, slowly, her expression turning to one of apprehension.
"How d'ye know _" Annie began, clearly suspecting Robin of an uncanny, unnatural method of learning her name.
"Rune told me about you," Robin replied quickly, not sure how long it would be before Stara or Jeoff came to chase them off. "She said you were a good friend to her while she was here."
The uneasy expression turned again to one of pleasure. "Rune! I hope th' child's well! She did aright t' run off from here."
Impulsively, Robin decided to tell Annie a more edited_and truthful_version of what she had told the villagers. "Rune is doing wonderfully; she is a Master Free Bard herself, she's wedded Master Bard Talaysen, and they are both in the service of the King of Birnam. She is very happy, and she and Talaysen are expecting their first child in the summer."
Annie gaped at her, then the gape turned into a smile. "Ye don't say! Welladay!" The smile widened. "Why good for the girl! If ever there was a child deserved a bit'a luck, it was that 'un!" She glared at the closed door of the inn. "Not like 'er mother. That bit can't get nothin' without it bein' through some man's bed. An' had Rune stayed here, she'd'a been slavin' away i' that tap room while her mam sat on 'er fat rump an' held th' cashbox."
"Annie?" the voice from within was muffled, but clearly Stara's. Annie rolled her eyes, waved a friendly, but silent farewell, and retreated to her kitchen.
Dark as it was, the road was smooth enough to permit them to travel by night, at least for a while. Kestrel held the horses to a walk. It wasn't as if they had to fear pursuit from the village. It wasn't likely that, even if by some miracle the three bullies got over their fright, any of them would come pursuing the Gypsies in the dark. "S-so that w-was S-Stara," he said. "N-n-nasty, p-petty piece."
"I'd have run off long before Rune did," Robin said thoughtfully. "Long, long before Rune did. That woman can't see past the end of her nose, and if she ever had a generous bone in her, it's long since gone."
Kestrel chuckled. "S-sunk in f-fat."
It was still barely warm enough for crickets, which sang a melancholy tune in the grasses beside the road. Overhead, thin clouds obscured the stars; the overcast was blowing off, but the moon was not yet out. No way to see past the dim lanterns on the front of the wagon, but the underbrush was so thick on either side of the road that there was no chance of the horses wandering off. And this road, according to the maps, went straight to Carthell Abbey without forking.
By way of Skull Hill.
That was according to the map; according to Rune and Annie Cook, the road forked a little way ahead, and while the old road still went over Skull Hill, the locals had cut another, cruder path around the dangerous place. Passable, she had said.
"I th-think, that c-compared to S-Stara, the Gh-Ghost m-must have been a p-pleasant audience," he said, trying to make a small joke.
Robin chuckled. "Certainly more appreciative. And the Ghost rewarded talent instead of stifling it."
"T-true." The horses clopped on, through the thick darkness, carefully feeling their way. Kestrel had been watching for roadside clearings, but there didn't seem to be any. He was beginning to wonder if they ought to stop and camp along here, even if they had to camp in the center of the road. After all, it wasn't as if it got very much use_they were hardly likely to block anyone's travel! By the old tracks they had seen, they might have been the only wagon along here in the past week.
"Th-that p-place where the r-road f-forks should b-be around here s-soon," he said. "What if w-we _"
"What if we go up Skull Hill?" Robin asked, suddenly.
For a moment he wasn't certain he had heard her right. "Wh-what?" he blurted.
"What if we go up Skull Hill?" she repeated. "Confront the Ghost, just like Rune did?"
He had heard her correctly. "Are you c-c-c-crazy?" he spluttered. "Why?"
She laughed; she didn't sound crazy. She did sound rather determined, however. "Why not?" she replied. "Rune did, and she wasn't even fully trained! We already know it likes music, and it might have another silver hoard or something equally interesting to swap for our music. We might be able to get him to grant unmolested passage to Gypsies and Free Bards, and that would be worth a night of playing, alone_we might need a road some day that no one will take."
He chewed on his lip, fiercely, and thought about it. She had a point. She had a very real point. The old road ran this way for a reason; it was a shorter route than the one that Harperus and T'fyrr were taking. If Gypsies and Free Bards knew it was safe for them to use, it could take a couple of days off their trips in this part of the world.
And if no one else would use the road for fear of the Ghost_it made a very neat escape route in case of trouble. From here to Stillwater was no great distance, and Stillwater could be held against even armed men if necessary.
"Let me get a lantern and walk ahead of the horses, so I can spot the place where the road forks," she said, while he was still thinking about it.
He pulled the horses to a halt; she wriggled back over the bed, and popped out the back with a lit lantern in her hand. She trotted up to take the halter of the right-hand horse, and held the lantern over her head to keep from getting glare in her eyes.
Well, that was all very well for her, but nothing saved him from the lantern-glare! He squinted, but he couldn't quite make out the road. He let the reins go slack; she was the one who could see where they were going_