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Lyric

"And that is oft times all we have at the end of any day... to say we have enjoyed what we have done... even when we have nothing else to show for it."

She did not offer critique or commentary and didn't even wince at his rhyming bit of whimsy. He was pleased and feeling more relaxed and that made him more enjoyable company than the tense servant of the Lord Protector.

She glanced at Djinni and then to Pietro, with a smile she ceded this, "There will always be critics though... treat them all as... Neigh-sayers."

It almost pained her to play the homophonic pun and stretch that first part of the last word out until sounded like a horse, but it certainly seemed the appropriate continuation to a bad joke already begun.

Pietro


He frowned in puzzlement for just a moment but then guffawed.

"Miss Lyric," he said when his mirth had subsided, "that was just about the worst yet most appropriate pun I have heard since I left Talantal near eight years ago."

Pietro glanced over his shoulder and waggled a finger at Djinni.

"See there? You should keep your opinions to yourself, girl, unless they are about merebeasts or bouncers."

The squire chuckled again, almost automatically turning to scan the horizon for anything out of the ordinary. Reassured, he turned back to Lyric, recalling something he'd heard her say earlier.

"So, Miss Singer of Songs and maker of bad puns, how many days have you been on this... expedition?"

Lyric

She sighed and shrugged.

"The maker of one pun, and I already regret it. Puns and limericks are the last refuge of the untalented, or so I have been taught. I fear my career as a minstrel on the Heartwood is all but over before it even began."

There was a hint of lingering smile though.

But, she didn't answer that last question for a number of steps.

"How long does it take to get here, wherever we are, from the High Tarn?"

Pietro


He smiled at her and considered her question.

"As long as it takes, I suppose. It depends on how many distractions present themselves along the way."

His smile widened.

"How many flowers there are to pick and how many foolish squires you come upon."

Lyric

"I have yet to meet one of those foolish squires you mention..."

She walked along, and smiled, mostly to herself.

"But She has not set yet, this day is still young, and anything is possible."

A final bite of her apple would prevent any further follow-up for a minute or so.

Pietro


"Ah, milady is too kind," he said and made a sweeping, only a little, sardonic bow.

"I had had my foolish moments."

Pietro looked up, squinting into Her rays and nodded.

"Perhaps you will be willing to share our evening meal when She settles in for the night." He gestured toward Djinni with a movement of his chin.

Another thought occurred to him.

"Have you seen sign of a sizeable group of riders lately?"

Lyric

"It seems you go from one meal to another, planning for the next in the in-between," she teased. As it was, She was high overhead and another meal was not likely for some time, nor was the likelihood of happening upon a town or a way-station and that meant keeping a close watch on the rations she had. He would be wise to do so as well, since he had to manage rations for two.

At the mention of a group of riders she shook her head, "I would ask how many you consider to be... 'sizeable', but the answer wouldn't matter. I have been on this path for several of Her passings overhead now and you are only other I have seen in all that time. And there have been no signs of anyone travelling this path ahead of us recently either."

Pietro


"I can think about eating whether I am hungry or not," he said with a smile for her as they walked along the path under Her warm rays.

"What I consider... sizeable is not necessarily the point, Miss Lyric. I was sharing a meal with some farmers two or maybe three days back and they said they'd seen signs of what they called a sizeable group of riders passing in roughly the same direction we are heading."

Pietro pointed southward.

"But probably some ways south of here from what I was told."

Lyric

Lyric walked along, closing her eyes and leaning her head back to bask in the warmth of the sun. She did this for a time and gave no reply. Sometimes she seemed very deliberate in the time it took her to reply to anything and other times, not so much.

Finally she did reply, but she still had her head back as she walked along, fingers trailing along the loose bridle of the warhorse as though it were a guide in her self-imposed blindness.

"I can not offer any more insight Ser Pietro. Though I doubt they would find this trail easy passage for any more than a few riders... if they were to have ever found it in the first place. Besides, we travel along the edge of the Dirkwood... Maybe that gave them pause and they sought a more travelled path to the west."

Pietro


"You could well be right," the squire said as he made one of his customary visual sweeps of the area, glancing back at Djinni to make sure she seemed relaxed as he did so. The mare served as a primary part of his... early warning system. If her ears were perked forward, something was happening.

"But you do not have to call me Ser Pietro. I am not a knight, just a squire." Pietro held up a hand.

"Not that I mind it. It is just an unnecessary politeness."

Lyric

As he spoke, she appeared to be 'done' with her 'sunbathing'.

"What is a squire," she asked almost immediately after he finished.

Pietro


He was surprised, if only a little, that she didn't know what a squire was. There was no real reason she should know, he decided, but it had just never occurred to him.

"A squire is... I supposed you could define a squire as a knight in training... an apprentice knight."

He smiled over and slightly down at her.

"I will remain a squire until I have been found worthy of knighthood."

Lyric

"And if I find you worthy of Knighthood, is that not sufficient?"

Before he could answer though, she she countered herself.

"Probably not, since I didn't even know what a squire was..."

"But, if not me... then who is responsible for taking the measure of your worth? And what makes them 'worthy' to do that?"

Pietro


Pietro looked faintly puzzled for just a second, but that expression was quickly replaced by a widening smile.

"I would appreciate your approval of my qualifications but, no, I do not think that would hold sufficient weight with the leaders of my church."

He thought for a long moment about how he could explain the situation in the Church of Lord Rames so that she would understand it. He made a soft sound halfway between laugh and snort.

Pietro wasn't sure he really understood it himself. He felt comfortable with his allegiance to the tenets of his deity, but the politics of the senior members of the church... that was complicated.

"The... senior knights, prelates and priests of the Church of Lord Rames make the ultimate decision... after seeking the counsel of Lord Rames himself, of course."

He decided to stop there for the moment. Regardless of the exact veracity of his statements, it... sounded good. Pietro shrugged mentally.

Maybe she would forget about that worthiness qualification.

He wished he could.

Lyric

"Aye, it sounds complicated," was her only reply for a time.

She was silent again for even longer before she added something else.

"Today is for uncomplicated things though... To journey and talk, maybe laugh a little, and enjoy being in the Now. When She has taken her leave of the sky, that we might take our leave of the trail... that is for uncomplicated things as well... Maybe song and music... a story or two... and of course SER Pietro, we will share a meal together if it is still your wish to do so."

Pietro


He nodded and, after a moment, the smile returned to his face.

"You are right. We have no need for unnecessary complications on such a fine day as we are getting to know each other."

Pietro took a few more steps, shrugged and continued.

"You mentioned laughing a little. Do you like jokes? In my travels, I have heard a few, some better than others."

Lyric

She turned her eyes to him and smiled, and with a nod she spoke, "Tell me a funny story then, laughter is always a pleasure to the spirit."

Pietro


"All right then," he said and thought over several options, jokes he'd heard in various eateries and taverns over the last few years. After rejecting several he considered too bawdy or suggestive, he cleared his throat and began.

"An Atteran, a Rhoni, and a Jvrillian were sitting in a tavern. Each of them had a fly land in their drink.

The Atteran saw the fly in her wine and was instantly disgusted and pushed her glass away.

The Rhoni saw the fly, removed it from his drink, shrugged his shoulders and continued drinking.

The Jvrillian saw the fly swimming around in his ale, grabbed it by the wings and shouted at the fly, "Spit it out! Spit it out!"

Halfway through the joke's telling, Pietro started thinking about Lyric's... well, oddities and had already begun to regret his offer so, once he'd completed the mini-saga, he gave her a sidewise glance to see how she reacted.

Lyric

She walked along for a few steps after the completion of the story. There was a slight smile on her lips and Pietro could see that Lyric was considering his story. Perhaps she was thinking about from the perspective of her profession. The smile grew though and she made a single shake of her head as though the bite of it finally revealed it's hook, and she nodded with a chuckle.

"I get it... That is very clever Pietro. You have a knack for timing too. I do think that somewhere in your telling, you were regretting your choice of stories... a small hesitation, but I am glad you continued. May I use this story myself?"

Pietro


The squire expelled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

She liked it.

"I'm glad you liked it, Lyric. I was not sure you would... I thought you might take it as being... well, indelicately insulting to the people in the story."

He walked on a few more steps, feeling good about himself.

"I can tell jokes... I've never been able to make them up or at least usually, but I enjoy making people laugh."

Pietro made a small half-bow in her direction.

"You are welcome to its use, Miss Singer of Songs and Teller of Tales."

Lyric

"Thank you," she replied with a nod. "It is only fair that I ask. We might find a tavern somewhere along the way and you might be inclined to share your story with the other travellers, though I doubt there are any such places along this wisp of a trail, but you never know, right?"

It was obviously a rhetorical question. Of course she was right, that anything was possible, but probable? A way-station public house on an old Rhoni footpath?

"Now, as is only fair and fitting I will take a turn at the telling... This is true story. I come from a very small village, on the High Tarn, remote and rural, and there isn't much in the way of trade or commerce that finds its way to us. But once in a while, there comes a wanderer passing through to someplace.... else."

Pietro would hear her natural rhythm and her pacing. She spoke with ease, despite the awkward deep Tarn accent. In fact, it actually lent a certain charm and credence to her telling.

"Anyway, there was this one evening, when a tired man, weary of the road, obviously lost to be finding us, entered the public house. Now, let me tell you, this was an amazement to us for sure... for the usual custom were those of us who lived there and we all knew each other on sight. But this man was obviously a stranger. Kearns, the man who owned the public house and tended the bar and the kitchen, managed to settle his surprise and greeted the man as he entered, but he noticed the man had a Shadowcat under one arm. it was obvious the ShadowCat was not pleased but the stranger managed to keep a good grip on the little beasty. Such a thing was dangerous and Kearns was right to be a wee bit nervous but he was a publican by trade and craft and he did his job. He stifled his nerves and engaged the man in conversation. He said to him, 'I can't help but noticing that you are carrying a ShadowCat... Why is that?' The traveller looked at the man, and he looked at the ShadowCat, 'Well,' he said, 'It's simple... I got if for my wife.' Kearns considered this a moment, and he seemed to understand and he replied wistfully, 'I wish I could make a trade like that.'

And with that said the story was told. She didn't look for acknowledgement from Pietro, she didn't even react to her own story in the after. She just kept walking along, enjoying the day.

Pietro


He found himself rapidly drawn into the cadence of her storytelling and he listened avidly, nodding occasionally as one point or another was added.

When she finished, Pietro frowned and cocked his head sharply to one side, his eyebrows lowered in confusion. Then he snorted as the punch line sunk in and began to laugh.

"I like that one... a trade like that..." he continued chuckling for a moment.

He looked over and down at her for a long moment before continuing.

"And you said I told my joke well." He shook his head slowly.

"I admit I have met my master."

Lyric

She lowered her head in acceptance of his praise, but the real pleasure was seeing his reaction when he realized her play on words was delivered with a terse twisting of a phrase. A slugline, as she herself had been taught.

"Thank you for you kindness. But I must warn you... You may hear this story again, I fear, if our travels keep us entwined... As I have fairly warned you I must also say that I sometimes tell it differently. Maybe a Merebeast the next time you hear it..."

There was a pause again before Tarnan girl continued, "You did well for your first time before an audience you didn't already know... Like all things in your chosen profession, mine is no different, I practiced a long time before anyone told me I was worthy and the first time under pressure was no where near as good as yours. Have faith in yourself and in what you believe, Ser Pietro... Worthiness is not found in what you do, nor how well you do it... but rather in who you are. Succeed at that, and all the rest comes naturally."

Pietro


He smiled and nodded as he walked, contemplating her words and trying to apply them to his own history and experience.

"There is much truth in your words, Miss Lyric." He went back to adding the honorific to her name as she had persisted in calling him Ser Pietro.

"I have always felt a certain confidence or surety in myself..." he paused and grinned briefly.

"Even occasionally when it was not necessarily warranted, I try to remain true to my basic beliefs and ideals."

Pietro stopped, his eyes drawn to an unusual flower close by the path which they followed. The blossom was a bright red with gold flecks of color scattered on the petals. He stepped to the side of the path, bent and plucked the blossom and then showed it to her.

"Look, Miss Lyric," he said, holding the flower up toward the guidon attached to his lance in its boot on Djinni's saddle.

"It looks like a flower of Lord Rames." He handed the flower to her.

"Do you know by what name this flower is called?"

Lyric

She accepted the pretty flower but seemed a little startled, like hart caught in torchlight.

"I'm from the High Tarn, and the High Side at that," she reminded him. Lot's of rolling lands... and different flowers."

She offered it back to him.

"You found it so you get to name it," she suggested hopefully.