Author’s Note: Apologies for the shorter (and unedited) piece today, I had intended to cover all of Keto and Brokel’s conversation but I’ve been under the weather for the later half of the week. Goal is to get the later half of this up as well at Part 9 up next weekend.

He stayed the late into the night, for that was how long the red haired minstrel performed.  The server returned, impressed to note the value of his gem and so Brokel finally ordered a meal.  Another drink came and, as Keto continued to perform, he traded for two more.  She sang more songs of the city-named heroes and as the night wore on the Landian appeared in the verses.  An ally to the heroes at first, and then growing more prominent.  He heard some murmuring as this change subtly played out, but the fights against dragons and their kin were grand, the heroics plain, and the grumbles grew quiet in the face of the minstrel’s voice and the tune of harp.  

Then there was the song of the mountain top view, lyrics painting a picture of the Landian one plucked string at a time.  A painting of a man of the past, fighting to see that past left behind.  A man looking out over familiar fields and rivers, upon mountains that he remembered the sharp peaks of, of woods he had known from seed and sprout.  Pale eyes that saw the changing of the world and wondered at how it could change if it could break free of the tyranny of the mistakes of the past.

The grumbles were gone but Brokel heard a few wet eyes now.  Keto’s craft was impressive but he look at her for this song.  In the others her blue eyes had passed over the crowded, offering smile and smirk as she judged reactions but the eyes had turned inwards now.  Watching hands and strings and yet also distant and lost.  Silence followed as the final harp notes of the songs faded.  Her eyes turned back to the crowd then, scanned across then, even pass along Brokel.  When she finished then a small smile appeared, not one shared for the crowd but for her.

Keto didn’t let them stay in the solemn moment she returned to a song of the four heroes of the cities, leading the crowd all together now in repeated rounds through the chorus.  It was a merry and upbeat note to end the show on.  The impression that leave them wanting for more tomorrow, a final memory that would have then dragging their friends to the tavern to see this red haired bard.  She accepted the final applause, offering thanks and bows, repeating one more song with which she struck the final note as she jumped from the little stage and took in the last of the cheers.

It was late, and many shook themselves to realize the time and exited the tavern.  Some stuck around, Keto having moved to the bar where the keep had offered her a bottle and a meal.  She greeted those who wanted to talk, and Brokel watched words and smiles be exchanged before invariable the admirer departed.  As the last in the line turned and left, Brokel placed another gem on the now empty table and stood.  She saw him as he approached, shifting on her stool to better face him.  Her smile seemed genuine, as genuine as her words had been.

He knew he didn’t have the same skill with words and so he started as he did most things.  “I am one of them, a rider hunting the Landian.”