Otto gave Alleg a pointed look, then turned and stomped back into the woods.
Alleg put his arm around my shoulders. “Might I offer you a drink?”
“A little water, if you can spare it.”
“No guest drinks water by our fire,” he protested. “Only our best wine will touch your lips.”
“The water of the Edema is sweeter than wine to those who have been upon the road.” I smiled at him.
“Then have water and wine, each to your desire.” He led me to one of the wagons, where there was a water barrel.
Following a tradition older than time, I drank a ladle of water and used a second to wash my hands and face. Patting my face dry with the sleeve of my shirt, I looked up at him and smiled. “It’s good to be home again.”
He clapped me on the back. “Come. Let me introduce you to the rest of your family.”
First were two men of about twenty, both with scruffy beards. “Fren and Josh are our two best singers, excepting myself of course.” I shook their hands.
Next were the two men playing instruments around the fire. “Gaskin plays lute. Laren does pipes and tabor.” They smiled at me. Laren struck the head of the tabor with his thumb, and the drum made a mellow tum.
“There’s Tim.” Alleg pointed across the fire to a tall, grim man oiling a sword. “And you’ve already met Otto. They keep us from falling into danger on the road.” Tim nodded, looking up briefly from his sword.
“This is Anne.” Alleg gestured to an older woman with a pinched expression and grey hair pulled back in a bun. “She keeps us fed and plays mother to us all.” Anne continued to cut carrots, ignoring both of us.
“And far from last is our own sweet Kete, who holds the key to all our hearts.” Kete had hard eyes and a mouth like a thin line, but her expression softened a little when I kissed her hand.
“And that’s everyone,” Alleg said with a smile and a little bow. “Your name is?”
“Kvothe.”
“Welcome, Kvothe. Rest yourself and be at your ease. Is there anything we can do for you?”
“A bit of that wine you mentioned earlier?” I smiled.
He touched the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Of course! Or would you prefer ale?”
I nodded, and he fetched me a mug.
“Excellent,” I said after tasting it, seating myself on a convenient stump.
He tipped an imaginary hat. “Thank you. We were lucky enough to nick it on our way through Levinshir a couple days ago. How has the road been treating you of late?”
I stretched backward and sighed. “Not bad for a lone minstrel.” I shrugged. “I take advantage of what opportunities present themselves. I have to be careful since I’m alone.”
Alleg nodded wisely. “The only safety we have is in numbers,” he admitted, then nodded to my lute. “Would you favor us with a bit of a song while we’re waiting for Anne to finish dinner?”
“Certainly,” I said, setting down my drink. “What would you like to hear?”
“Can you play ‘Leave the Town, Tinker’?”
“Can I? You tell me.” I lifted my lute from its case and began to play. By the chorus, everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen. I even caught sight of Otto near the edge of the trees as he left his lookout to peer toward the fire.
When I was done, everyone applauded enthusiastically. “You can play it,” Alleg laughed. Then his expression became serious, and he tapped a finger to his mouth. “How would you like to walk the road with us for a while?” he asked after a moment. “We could use another player.”
I took a moment to consider it. “Which way are you heading?”
“Easterly,” he said.
“I’m bound for Severen,” I said.
Alleg shrugged. “We can make it to Severen,” he said. “So long as you don’t mind taking the long way around.”
“I have been away from the family for a long time,” I admitted, looking at the familiar sights around the fire.
“One is a bad number for an Edema on the road,” Alleg said persuasively, running a finger along the edge of his dark beard.
I sighed. “Ask me again in the morning.”
He slapped my knee, grinning. “Good! That means we have all night to convince you.”
I replaced my lute and excused myself for a call of nature. Coming back, I knelt next to Anne where she sat near the fire. “What are you making for us, mother?” I asked.
“Stew,” she said shortly.
I smiled. “What’s in it?”
Anne squinted at me. “Lamb,” she said, as if daring me to challenge the fact.
“It’s been a long while since I’ve had lamb, mother. Could I have a taste?”
“You’ll wait, same as everyone else,” she said sharply.
“Not even a small taste?” I wheedled, giving her my best ingratiating smile.
The old woman drew a breath, then shrugged it away. “Fine,” she said. “But it won’t be my fault if your stomach sets to aching.”
I laughed. “No, mother. It won’t be your fault.” I reached for the longhandled wooden spoon and drew it out. After blowing on it, I took a bite. “Mother!” I exclaimed. “This is the best thing to touch my lips in a full year.”
“Hmph,” she said, squinting at me.
“It’s the first truth, mother,” I said earnestly. “Anyone who does not enjoy this fine stew is hardly one of the Ruh in my opinion.”
Anne turned back to stir the pot and shooed me away, but her expression wasn’t as sharp as it had been before.
After stopping by the keg to refill my mug, I returned to my seat. Gaskin leaned forward. “You’ve given us a song. Is there anything you’d like to hear?”
“How about ‘Piper Wit’?” I asked.
His brow furrowed. “I don’t recognize that one.”
“It’s about a clever Ruh who outwits a farmer.”
Gaskin shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
I bent to pick up my lute. “Let me. It’s a song every one of us should know.”
“Pick something else,” Laren protested. “I’ll play you something on the pipes. You’ve played for us once already tonight.”
I smiled at him. “I forgot you piped. You’ll like this one,” I assured him, “Piper’s the hero. Besides, you’re feeding my belly, I’ll feed your ears.” Before they could raise any more objections, I started to play, quick and light.
They laughed through the whole thing. From the beginning when Piper kills the farmer, to the end when he seduces the dead man’s wife and daughter. I left off the last two verses where the townsfolk kill Piper.
Laren wiped his eyes after I was done. “Heh. You’re right, Kvothe. I’m better off knowing that one. Besides . . .” He shot a look at Kete where she sat across the fire. “It’s an honest song. Women can’t keep their hands off a piper.”
Kete snorted derisively and rolled her eyes.
We talked of small things until Anne announced the stew was done. Everyone fell to, breaking the silence only to compliment Anne on her cooking.
“Honestly, Anne,” Alleg asked after his second bowl. “Did you lift a little pepper back in Levinshir?”
Anne looked smug. “We all need our secrets, dear,” she said. “Don’t press a lady.”
I asked Alleg, “Have times been good for you and yours?”
“Oh certainly,” he said between mouthfuls. “Three days ago Levinshir was especially good to us.” He winked. “You’ll see how good later.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“In fact.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “We’ve done so well that I feel quite generous. Generous enough to offer you anything you’d like. Anything at all. Ask and it is yours.” He leaned closer and said in a stage whisper, “I want you to know this is a blatant attempt to bribe you into staying on with us. We would make a thick purse off that lovely voice of yours.”
“Not to mention the songs he could teach us,” Gaskin chimed in.
Alleg gave a mock snarl. “Don’t help him bargain, boy. I have the feeling this is going to be hard enough as it is.”