The Bardic Academy (A Bard Without a Star, Book 3) by Michael A. Hooten

Author:Michael A. Hooten [Hooten, Michael A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-01-13T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7: Airu

When Fidgen arrived in Caer Carrick just before Samhain, he discovered that he already knew Ollave Kyle macMairtin. The red hair had begun to grey at the temples, but it was the same bard who had been present so long before when he had first been named Math’s heir apparent.

The Ollave recognized him as well. “Of all the students I expected to see,” he boomed, “Gwydion ap Don is the most unlikely!”

Many people turned to see who the Ollave was talking to, and Fidgen held himself very still, willing away both irritation and all the staring eyes. “That is not my name,” he said. “I am Fidgen.”

“Keeping incognito, eh?” Kyle said in the same loud voice. “Very wise. It’s still not clear what caused your uncle’s death, and I’m sure there are a lot of people who would like to get your side of things.”

Fidgen cursed the man thoroughly in his mind, but said only, “I come seeking instruction, Ollave.”

“Well certainly!” Kyle said. “The student bunks are over there, by the orchard. Meet the others, get yourself settled, have a look around a bit. Lessons start first thing in the morning. Try to stay out of trouble until then, eh?”

In the bunkhouse, three other students sat talking. His entrance caused them to pause, and one, a burly boy with red hair said, “Are ye a new student then?”

“I am. My name is Fidgen.”

The boy waved his arm. “We three are the only others at the moment. So pick any place where we’re not planted.”

Fidgen took a bunk about equal distance from each, and the red headed boy said, “My name's Donnel, that there’s Tagun, and she’s Fayla. We each got here in the last week or so.”

Tagun had dark curly hair, and Fayla had straight brown hair held back by a plain leather thong. Fidgen shook hands all around, and said, “Do you know if any others are expected?”

“Hard to say,” Tagun replied. “We three have been in training together for the last three years, but there have been several others who have come and gone.”

“We’ve heard of you, though,” Fayla said. “Is it true that you defeated a laird in single combat?”

“Yes,” Fidgen said.

“And that you met Epona, and Mannanan MacLir?” Donnel asked.

Fidgen sighed. “Yes, that’s true too.”

“You don’t seem happy about it,” Tagun said. “I think any one of us would be thrilled with those experiences.”

Fidgen shrugged. “I’m just trying to become a bard, not a legend.”

“Too late,” Donnel said.

“Thanks.”

“It’s about time for dinner,” Tagun said. “Would you like to join us?”

Fidgen hesitated, but the offer seemed sincere and direct. “I would like that very much,” he said. “Thank you.”

The great hall had wicker partitions much like Caer Dathyl had, and the students commandeered one to be able to talk more easily. Fidgen mostly listened at first, as the three other students described their various exploits in Cairnecht, Duvnecht, and Leinath. None had experienced anything like Fidgen, but they told all their stories well, and Fidgen wished he had more like they did, especially from Leinath.

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