Lythande by Marion Zimmer Bradley

Author:Marion Zimmer Bradley [Bradley, Marion Zimmer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780859979849
Google: 1kRrPwAACAAJ
Publisher: Firecrest
Published: 1989-01-01T17:10:07+00:00

As the last note died away, a tall, richly clad man, standing at the back of the room, came forward.

"Master Minstrel, I salute you," he said. "I had heard from afar of your skill with the lute and came here a little before my proper season, to hear you play and—other things. You lodge here? Might I buy you a drink in privacy, Magician? I have heard that your services are for hire; I have need of them."

"I am a mercenary magician," Lythande said, "I give no instruction on the lute."

"Nevertheless let us discuss in private whether it would be worth your while to give me lessons," said the man. "I am Tashgan, son of Idriash of Tschardain."

Some of the watchers in the room had the uneasy sense that the Blue Star on Lythande's brow shrugged itself and focused to look at Tashgan. Lythande said, "So be it. Before the final battle of Law and Chaos many unusual things may come to pass, and for all I know this may well be one of them."

"Will it please you to speak in your chamber, or in mine?"

"Let it be in yours," said Lythande. The items with which any person chose to surround himself could often give the magician an important clue to character; if this prince was to be a client—for the services of magician or minstrel—such clues might prove valuable.

Tashgan had commanded the most luxurious chamber at the Blue Dragon; its original character had almost been obscured by silken hangings and cushions. Elegant small musical instruments—a tambour adorned with silk ribbons, a borain. a pair of serpent rattles, and a gilded sistrum—hung on the wall. As the door opened, a slight girl in a chemise, arms bare and hair loosened and falling in a disheveled cloud over her bared young breasts, rolled from the bed and scurried away behind the hangings. Lythande's face drew together into a frown of distaste.

"Charming, is she not?" asked Tashgan negligently. "A local maiden; I want no permanent ties in this town. Indeed, it is of ties of this sort—undesired ties, and involuntary—that I would speak. Lissini, bring wine from my private stock."

The girl poured wine; Lythande formally lifted the cup without, however, tasting it, and bowed to Tashgan.

"How may I serve your Excellency?"

"It is a long story." Tashgan unfastened the strap of the lute across his shoulder. "What think you of this lute?" His weak, watery blue eyes followed the instrument as he undid the case and displayed it.

Lythande studied the instrument briefly; smaller than Lythande's own lute, exquisitely crafted of fruitwood inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

"I remember not one so fairly crafted since I came into this country."

"Appearances are deceiving," said Tashgan. "This instrument, magician, is at once my curse and my blessing."

"May I?" Lythande put forth a slender hand and touched the delicately fretted neck. The blue star blazed suddenly, and Lythande frowned.

"This lute is under enchantment. This is the long story of which you spoke. The night is young; long live the night. Tell on.

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