Missing Elements (The Lament Book 3) (10 page)

Pran didn't really like the sound
of that. She'd assumed that the investigation had been given to the woman next
to her for a better reason than that. Like she had skills in that area, or
secret contacts. This made it sound like it had been dumped on the only person
that couldn't afford to tell the rest of them to go soak their heads on the
issue. Except, that wasn't right, was it? The Guardians could have done it, or
the Judges...

Except that everyone would see
those kinds of people coming and stop talking, wouldn't they? That was why she
was there, to help get Clark in places. It wasn't about him being too stupid to
do the work, just too visible.

"That sounds fine. Hopefully
I won't sleep through anything important. I need to be into the office early,
since I have some things to set up. I need to go over the music for the wedding
party, too. I don't suppose you have a dress I could borrow? I just have this,
and a second set of them. I'll warn you though, the last time I borrowed
anything it was from Judge Clair, and I destroyed it."

That got her laughed at, but in a
friendly fashion.

"Oh, my. Wine stains?"

"Nope. Tears from running
away from people trying to kill me." More exactly she'd been running
toward
them, but nothing had really happened. It was a good thing, since she wouldn't
have been able to do much if she'd caught them at the time.

"You know Pran... you have a
lot of good stories. We should put them into song. That, or write up a play
about your adventures." It was an offhand kind of thing that Bards, or at
least the student ones, often said. Normally about things that were far too
tame and normal for that kind of thing. Getting a good mark on a project, or a
date to a party. They didn't actually do it though, so it was pretty much
considered a joke.

She even
had
one that
she'd actually written up. "In the Rain", it was called. When Pran
had played it for Bard Ben he'd suggested that it sounded a bit too much like
bragging. He wasn't wrong really, either.

"Nah. It's far more
interesting to hear about the other people. Like Guardian Clark. You should
meet him. In fact, I'll see about arranging that in the next few days. Guardian
Mara, too. I'm sure you'll like them. Judge Clair could make a good story or
two, as well. Or Apprentice Shipman Royce. He once climbed a mountain with two
guardians in order to save a town from the Black Plague. In a
snowstorm
.
Then, even though he could barely move, he worked for days to kill all the
fleas and tend the dying. Most of the village survived, which Doctor Millis
said they probably wouldn't have, unless the medicine had gotten through like
it had. It was pretty heroic."

Said that way, it
would
make a good tale, she decided. A song about Roy, and how he'd helped to save
those people. The tricky part was the tune, for her. Other people did it
differently, but she liked to work from the music to the words, rather than the
other way around. Just to get things started she let the pace of their walking
act as a beat for it.

Which Clarice clearly wasn't
going to allow. Not right at that moment.

"Here we are. That place up
there, on the left?" It wasn't a palace, perhaps, being too small for
that, and not made out of stone, or gilded, as her new Master probably
deserved. The other places weren't either, and this one wasn't the largest by
far, but it was nice, and looked to be about the size of...

Pran didn't really know. Other
than the places around it, she'd never seen anything as nice
or
big.
From the distance she'd figured that these places had been more government
buildings, to be honest, not personal dwellings. If she rearranged the space it
was probably nearly as large as The Lament, she decided. Not just the gondola
underneath, where everyone worked and lived, but the
whole
thing. No
wonder they had space to put her in. They could have probably fit all the families
in Pumpkin Hollow. That wasn't even her being mean about it.

"What? No drawbridge?"
She grinned, trying to make it seem like she wasn't all that close to being
overawed by the structure they were approaching. The woman knew where she lived
after all, and from the wry and slightly troubled expression on her face, she
understood the why of the statement, too.

"I know, I know. Kabrin
insisted however. We had to put on a show at least the equal of our neighbors.
I don't understand that thinking, but it's nicer to have him happy than not. He
tends to be a bit mercurial, at times, if he doesn't get his way."

To Pran it sounded a lot like the
woman was warning her about a potential danger, rather than simply carrying on
a conversation with her new Apprentice. The thing there was that she couldn't
be certain of that. If the man was as bad as he sounded, why did she stay with
him? If he wasn't, why make him out to be a sexual monster ready to devour
young girls as soon as they came within arm's reach?

There was a big gate, made of
black iron and a stone wall that ran in a square around the whole thing. That
made her shiver, which got the Bard next to her to stop.

"I... Is something
wrong?"

There was, but it couldn't be
helped. The Grange had a stone wall. To keep the children inside from escaping.
Pran forced a fake smile and readjusted the grip on her lute case handle in her
left hand.

"The wall just reminded me
of something, is all. Nothing big."

Thankfully Clarice found that
answer good enough and didn't make her explain her entire life. Not just then.
The steps to the place were also made of stone, but were smooth on top, each
one having been cut to fit perfectly. That gave way to a porch that was made of
wood, but that lacked carvings. There was a small yard, with topiary in it,
done up to look like small animals. Two on each side. The rest was short cut
grass, all green and cheery. She imagined it would be, in the daylight. At the
moment the shadows were kind of deep for that, but it wouldn't hurt to put a
happy spin on things, if she were going to be around this place now and then.

The inside was rich looking, in a
way that Pran doubted she could have really explained. The floors were wood,
but dark and polished. That looked to be a varnish that had been applied over
the whole thing, she thought. There were some small rugs, but they were bright
and colorful, if not matching. Even the walls were special, being covered with
decorations and paintings.

Waving for her to follow, the
Bard gestured up a staircase that had a polished banister next to it.

"Up this way. I'll let you
settle your things. Do you need a nap, before dinner?"

Pran shook her head, "I hope
you mean to ask if I need to sleep before eating, not cooking. I don't know how
to do that, so you might be disappointed in the results." It was just
true. The twice a day porridge at the Grange had been made by one of the
Keepers and children weren't allowed access to it. They got slices of bread
along with it too. Most of the time. Unless someone stole it, of course. The
Art School had cooks and servers, however, and a greater variety of things to
eat. She'd never cooked it, since the students there were supposed to be
learning, not doing free labor.

Well, unless that was artistic in
nature. Doing carvings and making decorations was always part of what the kids
had done.

Her words didn't get a laugh, and
for a half second she wondered if she really
was
supposed to do the
cooking. An Apprentice did what they were told and being asked to clean up at
home, or do chores wasn't outside of that contract, as far as she knew. Even
sleeping with her Master's husband was probably part of that. She thought. Really,
she was a bit hazy on the idea of what they were allowed to be instructed to
do. She'd always heard it was grueling labor without end, and had readied
herself for that. Even the Guardians had spoken about doing the wash and being
set directly to lessons or practice in their first hours. Maybe here she was
supposed to get the food ready for real?

Her brain was scrambling, going
over everything she knew about cooking, when Clarice reached forward and patted
her arm.

"No, no... Not at
all
dear. Truly, if you do nothing but put in a day or two at the office each week,
your duties there, and here, will be well filled. I do keep the best supplies
there however, which you can use, as I mentioned earlier, if that's an
incentive not to carouse
too
much about town in the evenings?"

That little work, and going home
at six in the evening? How did anything ever get done? True, most Bards did
only play for a few hours a night at most, but the artists had to work longer
hours, didn't they? Otherwise it would take forever to get anything done.

Rather than question the woman,
Pran followed, and was delivered to a room that was...

Heaven. Most likely.

There was a bed that was the
biggest thing like it she'd ever seen, and soft when she walked over to touch
it. It had four pillows on it, and a bright red and yellow blanket on the top
that looked thick and warm. It also had a curtain all the way around it, held
up by four big posts at each corner. That was so she could sleep during the
day, she supposed, unbothered by the light through the window. There was a door
to an adjoining chamber, but she didn't walk to it directly, setting her
instrument cases on a rather nice chest that was made of blond wood. It was
like the ones that she'd made herself, for The Lament, except twice as long.
Two meters, at least. Shrugging her pack off, she glanced around, as Clarice
looked at her. Nervously.

"Is it enough? We could have
one of the other rooms set up, if you'd rather. Yes, we'll do that. This is too
far toward the back of the house. I... Honestly, I just wanted someone close to
the radio right now. I should have realized..." That device, looking big
and metal, with large knobs on it, was on a table, across the room. There was a
cord that ran over to a window, and out of it. She couldn't tell more than
that, but saw the place you were supposed to talk, and the wooden dials with
marks etched into them.

"This is great. I'll need a
lesson on how to use that. It's secret technology, isn't it? Are you allowed to
have one even?" Most weren't, but the High Council probably got clearance
automatically.

"Yes. It's licensed and
everything, so you can have your Guardian friends over to spend the night,
safely enough. We don't even have anything hidden in the basement, that I know
of. If Kabrin does, he hasn't been sharing it with me, which is impolite, if
it's the case. Why would he keep all the interesting things for himself? Now,
do you need a nap, or anything else?"

She thought about it, but decided
that going to bed at a decent hour would be enough for her. She mumbled that
out loud, wondering what the hours were there, day to day, but knew she'd
probably find out soon enough. That night for instance.

"I'm good. Should I play for
your husband before dinner or after?" She shrugged, not knowing when they'd
eat, but not wanting to get grease on her strings, if that was at all possible.

For some reason that got a
chuckle, but also a wave.

"Before, I think. Would you
like to do that now? It might be a bit until dinner, we normally don't eat for
about an hour after we come home. The meal will last a few hours, and you
mentioned wanting to keep to an early schedule?"

That was the plan, so she grabbed
her guitar and lute, and tried to think through what to play. If Kabrin was known
for his instrumentals, he'd probably want to test her in that area. If not
test
,
then at least assess her to make certain she wasn't going to need to be hidden
away at parties. Really, it was probably all for the best, even if it was
basically having two auditions for the same job. Clarice struck her as being
really nice and kind about things like that, and might need to have another
opinion from someone she trusted.

Not that Pran wasn't good. There
was a difference however between good enough to play in small places and being
expert enough for the big stage. If nothing else having the man tell her his
opinion would give her a sense of what kind of person he really was. Pran was
all right, when it came to music, and knew it. If he hammered her with a bitter
critique, then she'd know he was sort of evil. It had been pretty hard to tell,
just based on what Bard Clarice had said.

Pran was set up in the front
space, which, given the bardly nature of the people that owned the home, had a
chair already set up for a player. The room was actually arranged for up to
five players, with several rows of cushioned benches for an audience. What
could she do except take the center position? It was where she belonged, if
only in her own mind. Clarice came with her, but stepped out while she set up.
Without waiting, she decided that getting a bit of practice wasn't a bad plan,
so started in on the seven circles, on the lute.

It wasn't the hardest piece to
play in existence. It was just one of the top fifty or so, and
was
the
most difficult thing that everyone
had
to learn to play at the Art
School. It was needed for the final boards. Pran had nailed it when she played,
about three months before, but that was only for a school test. Kabrin was a
real musician, and might not be all that impressed with something that average.
The thing there was that she didn't really know anything much harder. She could
work some variations of the tune, but that was about all.

She went through those, getting
lost in the music, and then moved into some of the things she'd written
herself. They were all too simple to impress anyone. They weren't bad or
anything, but the lack of complexity suddenly seemed to make them hollow and
flat. She played around with adding some variations, but nothing really worked
very well. Feeling a bit disgusted with herself she moved to guitar and worked
a few classical pieces. They were all things she'd translated to the instrument
herself, for a class a few years before.

The only positive thing there was
that they seemed a bit too plain as well, which meant she was probably being
too hard on herself. That was a problem that she always had. What was actually
good
enough
never seemed that way to her, even when people said otherwise.

The scent of food hit her as she
looked up, about an hour later. There was no one in front of her, but a bit of
noise got her to turn, to see not only Clarice, standing in the corner of the
room, but a pleasant looking blond man, who had curly hair, and a dimpled chin.
He was also a good fifteen years younger than Clarice, and while she was nicely
made up and well dressed, he was one of those rare people that didn't really
need that kind of thing. His green eyes sparkled as he gave her a look that
was...
annoyed
.

"Adequate, I suppose. How's
your violin?" Without waiting to see if she could even play that
instrument, he moved to a low and very long cabinet to his own right, and
pulled out a long drawer which had an old looking, but well cared for piece of
wonder in it.

He rosined the bow, and tuned it
without saying anything, then moved to hand it to her. He seemed shocked when
she took it however, and started to play. It wasn't her best instrument, but
neither was the guitar or lute. Her primary study had been the piano, but that
wasn't a thing she could carry around with her. Even the thing in her hand was
more complex than what was really practical to carry around with her, compared
to what she had.

The tone was good. Not perfect,
but something in its making had left it resonant and mellow at the same time. The
bow was tight enough, so she played a few things on it. The man frowned full on
then, and sighed, then took the thing back from her, and moved to the chest,
coming back with yet another instrument. At first she thought he'd present her
with a tampan or a triangle, because neither one of them really took skill to
play, but it was a clarinet instead.

Shaking her head, she smiled.

"Not unless you want your
ears shattered. If you have a piano? I can do that..." She didn't see one
in the room, but the man pointed, at the door, as Clarice stood there beaming
at him.

"Just down the hall. This
way. Come along. Don't dawdle, I need to eat soon." Then he stomped out,
Clarice moving with him, still grinning ear to ear. With a wink she waved and
gestured at Pran to follow. She
did
, since that was the job. Apprentice
meant you did what you were told. So far Clarice had even been
really
sweet about it all. Clark and Mara had put her to work standing watch in her
first day as an Apprentice Guardian. It had been pretty hard too, since she
needed to try and hold a meditative trance state while doing it. That reminded
her to practice that too.

The hallway wasn't one that she'd
been down yet, and was huge for a thing like that. Easily ten feet across, and
made of bare, but polished marble stone. The room she was lead to was a vast
thing that was easily the largest place like it she'd ever been in. Even the
school hadn't had a playing hall like it. On a stage, that was about three feet
high, and a good seventy feet from the door, was the largest piano she'd ever
seen. It had carvings on the feet and legs, and was a deep and polished brown
all over. She knew that, because electric lights came on when Kabrin flipped a
switch on the wall.

She didn't
run
to it, but
it was a close thing. Her heart started to pound in her chest, and she felt
ever so slightly faint, just being in the same room with the thing. It reminded
her a bit of seeing The Lament for the first time, except for a bit more
impressive. Nothing in her life had prepared her to even see something like it.

Here she was, clearly expected to
go and play it.

There was no bothering with
stairs, because she didn't see any. That meant a bit of clambering up the
front, but it wasn't that hard, and less than forty seconds later she was
settled into place, her hands finding the right position instantly. No matter
what it looked like, the keyboard was fairly standard. She started with some
scales, so that the needed pressure wouldn't surprise her when she played. The
sound from it was
incredible
. It sent goose bumps down her spine.

She didn't know what to play
first, so just looked at the written sheet music that was already there, and
started with that. It wasn't a familiar thing, so there were some hiccups and
false starts when she played. It was only four pages long, and spread out for
sight reading already, which made it easier, but not perfect. When she got to
the end, Pran switched pieces, or started too, playing one from memory.

"No!" Kabrin actually
shouted at her, and slapped the back of one of the stadium seating chairs. He
was still standing, but Clarice sat, and was looking bemused, instead of
shocked at the yelling. "The same piece. Again. Now." There was
another banging noise, which had to make his fingers hurt.

Shrugging she stopped and did it
again, not doing it perfectly yet, until the fourth time she played it through.

"Now, the piece you started
before. Do it. Please." The man was more mellow suddenly, and she was
starting to get the idea of what Bard Clarice had meant before, saying he could
be mercurial. His emotions didn't just alter from time to time, but seemed to
do so almost constantly.

It didn't stop, and he didn't let
her just play one piece having her do five different things, including a
popular song that she knew that had a light and bouncy bridge to it. Then she
had to do the thing in front of her again. That was easier now, since she'd
gotten a bit of practice with it. The piece itself was a bit dry, but not too
hard to play, once you knew what was coming.

When the last note sounded, the
man just stood there, not saying anything at all. Pran hated that. Clapping was
good
and booing let you know what people thought, but dead silence could
mean anything at all. Did he hate it, and by extension, her? Was he formulating
a way to ask her to leave his home, so that her lousy playing wouldn't taint
his talent by getting into his ears? Was he suddenly really hungry and wanted
his dinner, without delay?

After nearly three minutes, he
spoke, his voice less annoyed, but a bit snooty still.

"We have a position.
Second
violin. If you work hard, I'll see about arranging a piano solo for you for the
spring concert season. The pay is ten gold a month, and you're responsible for
finding your own food and lodgings. If you would have come to the concert
house, instead of invading my home, I would have let you contest with Bard
Brettle for First violin, but you chose to be clever and get yourself let into
my dwelling first. Not that I don't enjoy a bit of pluck, but that could be considered
a little too much." He looked at his wife, and shrugged, speaking about
Pran as if she weren't there. "The skill is there, but I want to see how
he works in a group."

Clarice nodded, "a good
thought.
She
, however. This is Bard Pran. My new assistant. I just
wanted to get your take on her playing. I thought it was good, but you do have
a better ear for such things. You should hear her sing, too." She looked
at him lovingly, which earned her a hug.

The man laughed and clapped a bit
then.

"Your assistant?
Marvelous
.
You've needed one for a long time. Perhaps in a few months we can take a winter
vacation? After the holidays, of course. We can't miss being in the city for
that."

Then he walked forward, and
finally spoke to Pran, directly.

"Where have you played? I
haven't heard of a Bard Pran, and if this wasn't your planned audition set,
then I
would
have. Unless you were in the Eastern lands? They don't
communicate that much with us here, musically speaking. They do some very nice
drum work, however."

Pran was about to explain the
whole thing about being an Apprentice, even if Clarice was being truly kind and
nice about things, but the woman herself broke in, not letting her speak.

"She's been playing an
Airship circuit of late. My mother found her and insisted that she was one of
the finest talents of the new generation. What's more, her strength seems to
lie in sculpting, if you can believe it. I can't wait to see what she comes up
with. You're planning to do Judge Brown in clay, aren't you dear?" There
was nothing in the pretty face to give away her act, or that she was being a
little too generous with Pran, being it was her first day.

"That's right. He's agreed
to sit for me, for as long as it takes. I should have it ready for a first
viewing in a week or so, if things aren't too hectic at the office." She
looked at the man, who was staring a bit too hard at her, probably trying to
see if she was really a girl, and explained. "Judge Brown was temporarily
left with eye damage, so won't be back to work for a few months. Four or maybe
more, though we aren't suppose to say that it will be more than three, to keep
his mood up. Like he doesn't know? He's a
Judge
... But he has a
wonderful
face for clay. Interesting and distinctive. I'm thinking to do it life sized
and if it's good enough, making a mold of it." Casting in bronze would be
expensive however, but there were other things that she could try, with a bit
of creativity.

Kabrin spread his hands, clearly
acting now, and took a few steps toward her.

"Would you join us for
dinner then? I do hate to seem greedy, or led by my stomach, but I failed to
eat lunch, since I had to scream at people for nearly an hour earlier. You'd
think it wouldn't be too much to ask for people not to come in hung over, but
that's the life of a Director. If they aren't in their cups, they're coming in
late, or getting my cellist pregnant. True, that was only the once, but it
ruined
her technique for nearly eighteen months."

He started out of the room, which
meant scrambling to keep up since Clarice went as well and Pran didn't know if
she could find the food on her own. It was pretty clear that Kabrin didn't know
she was supposed to be staying there. Hopefully that wouldn't be a big problem.
It wasn't a thing that she'd ever thought of before, but it seemed that things
like that should be communicated with a spouse, shouldn't it?

She didn't want to bring it up,
and was starting to feel uneasy about it all, when Clarice smiled. They kept
walking, and when they got to the dining room, it was nice, but not a vast
waste of space. The table was big enough for six, but there were only four
places set, and one of them was already taken, by a middle aged man, who had
well groomed hair, a round face and a mustache that seemed to go with his nice
suit jacket. He also had a ribbon around his neck, that was big and fat. Like
the ones that Doctor Millis always liked to wear.

In the center of it was a small
metal pendant of a bird. An eagle, Pran thought. The ribbon had diagonal red
and blue stripes to it. That was new to her, since all she'd ever seen that way
was solid colors. Realizing she was staring a bit, she smiled politely, the man
looking at her in return.

He cleared his throat and stood,
moving his chair back.

"Bard Clarice... miss."
He smiled at her, as Kabrin gestured her way.

"This is Bard Pran.
Clarice's new assistant. I tried to hire her away for the orchestra, but so far
she seems to be holding firm and focusing on her civic duty instead of riches
and fame. I don't see it, for myself, but it should mean that I get to have my
lady around a bit more often, so I'll allow it, for now." There was a bit
of play to the words, and the other man nodded.

His voice was rich and deep, for
a man that wasn't all that tall.

"I'm Doctor Richard Soros,
Bard Pran. So good to make your acquaintance. Our hosts have been kind enough
to allow me to room here while I visit Lincoln. There are some minor political
tasks to be seen to. It's less than fun, but I may well be seeing you, if
you're going to be at the Capital house?"

Pran nearly answered that she
didn't know what that was, but Clarice spoke first, providing the clue she
needed.