The Tower: Part IX

They came for my son and I early in the morning. Gythin and I had been moved apart from the others after we'd been drugged, put in a small room somewhere in the Temple, and largely left alone. Our only visitors were the guards who brought us our food and Phellas himself, come to try and wear us down with rants and threats. A few days after our arrest he came to gloat at us over capturing Herys. Despite my fear for her safety, I didn't give the old bastard the satisfaction of seeing my concern. He left us in a cold fury.

"Da, he wouldn't hurt them would he, Herys and Aella?" Gythin drew close and kept his voice barely above a whisper. "Would he?"

I squeezed his shoulder lightly. "He dare not harm a bard and he didn't mention Aella. I think she got away after all. Phellas would hardly fail to hold her safety over your head if he had her. She's gone, Gyth. It's our part to hold on until she returns." I gave what I hoped was a reassuring smile, but inwardly my mind raced with doubts.

And then they came that morning, barely past dawn, with hot water to bathe in and clean clothes to wear, including our cloaks of Bardic Green. We exchanged bemused glances over the food they brought us, then shrugged and ate. They'd hardly go through the trouble of cleaning us up just to drug us again. So we sat and ate until the guards returned and motioned us towards the door, then out and through a series until we found ourselves exiting the Temple at the front door. There was a large crowd in the Square; Phellas must have called for another Assembly. Our escort walked us down a few steps and then bade us to turn and face the doorway ourselves. The townsfolk suddenly quieted, and Phellas and Joffry came out of the building.

Phellas seemed agitated, his eyes fairly blazing as he looked at us. Joffry, on the other hand, was expressionless .He stood a little off to Phellas' right, his gaze fixed on the crowd behind us as the priest raised a hand and began to speak. "Hear the judgement the Goddess has shown me in the matter of Bards Beran and Gythin. They have caused discord in Pyrfeth town, and their songs have bred violence, but they are, after all, bards, and the Goddess has inspired me to show them Her mercy. They are banished from Pyrfeth Town, and we shall send for new bards to serve here among us." He motioned to several acolytes who brought over several packs and bedrolls that they laid at our feet. One placed my harp case atop my pile and moved away as Phellas leaned closer and spoke.

"Take your things and go quietly, and Herys will be released to join you. Walk two miles east to the bridge and wait for her there. Then all of you leave, and don't come back." His lips curled. "Of course, you could make a scene, Beran, but you do want to see your wife again, don't you? Take your things and go. I've asked some acolytes to accompany you." The same acolytes who had brought the packs stepped forwards.

"No."

We all turned our heads to look at Joffry. I'm not sure who was more amazed Phellas or I, as Joffry spoke on. "Skies know I've wished you ill in the past, Beran, but no longer. It's a trap. Phellas means for you all to die on the road, I'm not sure how, but that's his intent. I'll have no part of it." He looked at Gythin, and some unspoken agreement seemed to have been made as my son nodded.

"Bard, he lies. Now leave or suffer the consequences."

Joffry smiled, an astonishing thing in and of itself. "I lie, do I? Look at your harp, Beran. Go on, take it out and play it."

Now the priest was fairly quivering with anger. "I forbid it! You are no longer a bard of Pyrfeth."

"Perhaps not. But I am still a Bard, no matter where I am, and I think I shall inspect my instrument before I leave." I bent down, opened the canvas case, and picked up the cloth -wrapped harp.

Even before I uncovered it, I knew; the wood had shifted in my hands as I had picked it up. The harp was smashed, strings twisted out of the frame to droop towards the ground. I held it up so the crowd behind us could see, and a shocked murmuring rose from the townsfolk. They hadn't heard what Joffry had said, but the sight of a Bard's instrument maliciously destroyed was a shock.

"He means to kill you all, Beran. And even though you may not believe it, I won't allow him to kill you to keep himself in power. We know Aella rode west, you see. He doesn't want you to speak with Lord Westmark.

"You won't allow it?" Phellas was beside himself in anger. "You sniveling bastard! I speak for the Goddess!" He stepped forwards to push at Joffry's chest, not noticing one foot become entangled. in the broken harp strings. His arms waved futilely as he sought to grab hold of Joffry, but could not reach. Before any of us could react, he tripped and fell headlong down the steps. His head must have been smashed on the hard stone, for by the time we reached him, Phellas of Pyrfeth was dead.

Joffry shook his head. "It seems the Goddess wants a new spokesman."

"Apparently" I closed the old man' s eyes, then slipped my cloak off and used it to cover the body. "Goddess grant him peace" Then I started the first song any of us ever hear, at the moment of our birth, and which is often the last thing we hear as we pass from this world. Gradually the crowd joined in, until we had reached the last line.

"Kind thing to do, Beran. Phellas would have hated it."

I looked over at Joffry. "I know."

Behind us, someone coughed. "I believe this is your harp."

"It's ruined. I'll have to make a new one."

"Really? It looks in very good shape to us. Don't you think, Aella?"

We turned, Gythin flinging himself at his wife to wrap her in his arms, leaving Joffry and I to stare at her companion. He held a harp out to me, a harp I had thought I'd never see again. "Eryl?"

"Aye, Beran. I brought you your harp. I hear you are quite good at playing them now, and it seems you might need a new one after all, eh?"

I took the harp.

"Just like one of those epic songs you sing, isn't it?" Then Joffry turned and walked away and up the stairs as the acolytes followed, carrying Phellas inside.