Strings of Chance (The Ballad of Bards and Bastards Book 1) Read online

  STRINGS

  of

  CHANCE

  by

  Jeff Pryor

  Contents

  Fame Seekers and Fortune-Tellers

  Songwriters and Soul Suckers

  Bargains and Bonuses

  Knights and Knockers

  Lollipops and Lovers

  Apprentices and Assholes

  Witches and Wizards

  Barbarians and Barmaids

  Sails and Songs

  Traders and Traitors

  Reunions and Realizations

  Alehouses and Assassins

  Homecomings and Husbands

  Debts and Doubts

  Reputations and Reunions

  Bards and Bastards

  Coda

  About the Writer

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Jeff Pryor

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the written permission of the author/publisher except in the case of brief quotations used in reviews or critical articles.

  STRINGS of CHANCE

  The Ballad of Bards and Bastards / Act One

  First Edition published May 7, 2019

  Cover Art & Design by M Wayne Miller

  Edited by Ashley Lachance

  This one is for the entertainers in my life, and the path I briefly walked alongside them.

  Life is a song, sing it well.

  Fame Seekers and Fortune-Tellers

  “Oh sing me a song, sing it today,

  Play me a tune, chase my troubles away.

  Oh pour me a drink, and pass it my way,

  Pour me another, tomorrow I'll pay.”

  Edson Pye looked out at the audience as he plucked his citole and sang one of his more popular songs. It was a small crowd but that was to be expected. All the inns and taverns in Vonst featured a singer or two each night of the Midsummer Festival, and most were far more well-known than him. Still, he was developing a small following. He winked at the lass he had spent the night with. Aisley? Aedre? They had shared far too much wine for him to remember such details.

  “Oh bring me a love, bring her to me,

  Find me a lass, or find me three.

  Oh give me the road, and wonders to see,

  Give me my freedom, don't take it from me.”

  The lass gave him a look of disgust. Audrey? Aefre? It didn't really matter. Tonight was his last night at the Candlehouse. He didn't know where he would go in the morning, as he had yet to find another gig. He had spent the past four years dreaming of playing in the Bardic Challenge, which was the highlight of the festival, and would perform on the streets if he had to. There were fifteen days left before the champion would be named. Edson had no chance of winning but hoped to at least make the listings. If he did, it would guarantee him solid bookings for the next year, and a chance to build his audience. He smiled at the lass. She didn't smile back, but the look went away. That was a start.

  “Oh sell me a horse, sell me a steed,

  Throw in a saddle and anything I may need.

  Oh I see the farmer, please give me a lead,

  For I met his daughter and planted my seed.”

  The men in the room laughed at this line, but the lass didn't share their appreciation for his lyrics. The look was back. Ashley? Alodie? He would probably never remember. She wasn't likely to warm his bed again anyway. Still, she hadn't left. That was something. He finished the number, following it with a pair of similar songs. After that, he sang one of Alwin Floyd's songs, Edla's Rose. Edson kept his eyes on the lass through the whole song and had her smiling again by the end. Perhaps he was going down the wrong path. Estra? Elaida? It didn't matter. He would call her Darling, just as he did with all the others.

  Thinking of Alwin was a reminder of what was at stake. Edson had studied under the man, learning music, storytelling, dancing, and much more. They had traveled together for three years, before Alwin had announced that Edson was ready to travel and perform alone. That had happened at the end of the previous year's Challenge. Alwin had finished third and was a favorite to win this year. Edson hadn't seen him since they split up after the festival. He was playing in the larger inns and halls. Edson could only dream of playing in such places.

  * * *

  Edson sighed as he tied his last bit of catgut string into place on his citole. He had no coin left, no place to stay, and he felt a tickle in his throat from sleeping in an alley the past two nights. After leaving the Candlehouse, he had been unable to find another gig and had used most of his coins attending one of Alwin's performances. They had shared drinks after the set, but Edson had been unable to bring himself to ask his mentor to help him secure a gig.

  He spent the next night singing on street corners. His earnings had bought him a bit of mutton on a piece of stale bread and enough wine to make the alley comfortable. He needed to do more. Three nights at the Candlehouse weren't enough to get him on the listings. Securing a gig was everything.

  The best corners were already taken, but Edson found a spot a block away from the southern market. He wanted to earn enough for a meal before setting out to hunt for a gig. People out and about in the morning typically had a purpose though and weren't likely to stick around for a song. Leaving his citole tied to his back, he tossed his hat down and began juggling three knives from his belt. He purposely made it look as if he were struggling, making each catch and release seem desperate.

  “Sorry, kind sir,” he said as he caught a knife just before it would've landed in a man's shoulder. “That one got away from me.”

  He tossed the knife back into the air as he backed away. The man frowned but dropped a coin into Edson's hat. A passing woman did the same, without the frown. She looked to be nearly as old as Alwin but was still pretty. Edson tossed one of his knives in her direction and pretended to trip as he rushed to catch it. He caught all three but ran into the woman. He nicked her purse strings with one of the knives before stepping back; the purse securely tucked in one of his many pockets. That was a skill he learned long before meeting Alwin.

  “Pardon me, my lady,” he said, ducking his head in a slight bow. He slid his knives back in his belt and swung his citole around his shoulder. “Perhaps I should stick to songs for a while. My juggling seems to be getting worse.”

  “No harm done,” she replied before walking away. Edson smiled as he retrieved his hat, which held more than enough for him to get something to eat. The purse had enough weight to promise much more.

  * * *

  Edson scowled as he slipped into the alley where he had slept the two previous nights. After a promising start, the rest of his day had been a disaster. With the festival in full swing, the prices of catgut and wine were more than double the norm. The coins from his pilfered purse were nearly depleted and he still had no gig. The tickle in his throat had gotten worse, forcing him to bring an early end to his evening performance. Calling it a performance was a stretch, for his only audience had been a curious tomcat.

  The first bottle of wine was already in his hands before Edson had covered half of the length of the alley. The smell of smoldering sage was the first sign that he wasn't alone in the alley. His eyes confirmed that fact a few seconds later. A man sat against the wall, a few feet from where Edson had planned to make his bed for the night. The man wore a multicolored robe and was surrounded by burning c
andles and scattered crystals. He had cards spread out in front of him. Edson had seen such things before. Fortune tellers were more common in Rov, but more than a few came to Vonst for the festival.

  “Greetings, friend,” the man said, without looking up from his cards. The sage smoke lingered, blurring the man's features. “Is this alley your home?”

  “It has been for the past few nights,” Edson replied. The man's accent made it clear that he was, in fact, from Rov. Edson had gone to a fortune teller just before leaving the southern city. The woman had placed her cards much the same as this man did. The Death Card had come up during the reading, nearly causing Edson to fall out of his chair. The woman had insisted that it didn't mean what he thought, but he still had nightmares about that card and what it might have foretold. “I was planning to sleep here again tonight, but I can find another spot.”

  “Nonsense. There's plenty of room here for both of us.” The man lifted a flask and held it out for Edson. “Have a drink and make yourself comfortable.”

  “I've been told it's bad luck to drink with a man before learning his name,” Edson said. He had never been told any such thing but wanted to see if he had ever heard of the man. Alwin had told stories of a few charlatans and con artists posing as fortune tellers.

  “I've heard the same thing. I'm Braden Asbury, reader of omens and energies, interpreter of dreams, banisher of ghosts, and student of Vedri Nelara.”

  That got Edson's attention: Vedri was the soothsayer to the nobility of Rov. Braden was no charlatan if he was telling the truth. Only a fool would make such a claim falsely, for Vedri was known to be a spiteful man. The flask held rum, which wasn't one of Edson's favorites. Still, it felt good on his throat. He passed back the flask after taking a seat.

  “My name's Edson Pye. I, too, was a student to a master. I apprenticed to Alwin Floyd.”

  “I saw him perform about five years back,” Braden said as he gathered his cards. The sounds of his shuffling echoed through the alley. His fingers were as nimble as those of any of the thieves Edson had trained with before meeting Alwin. “I've never seen better.”

  “That was a year before he found me.” That seemed a lifetime ago. “He claims that I'll be even better than him someday. I used to believe that, but this festival is proving him wrong.”

  “Words such as that don't come easily to one as accomplished as Alwin Floyd.” The cards flew effortlessly from his fingertips, forming a fresh spread. “You have it in you to be one of the best. I can help with that.”

  “Why would you help me?” Every instinct told Edson to run away. He had decided long ago to ignore such internal warnings, but this seemed different. “You don't even know me.”

  “The cards know you.” Braden's eyes rarely lifted. On the few occasions when they did, the sage smoke seemed to purposely gather to obscure Edson's view of the man. “And I know the cards. Do you want my help or not?”

  “How can you help me?” Edson regretted the question as soon as he asked it. If he had any sense, he would already have left the alley and fortune teller far behind.

  “I can alter your path slightly through my magic. What is it you truly want?”

  “I just want to play my music.” Magic! Edson didn't trust magic at all. It was one of the few traits he had inherited from his father. Still, the festival was passing by quickly, and he needed a gig. “A woman to keep me company would be nice too, but I'd settle for a gig for now.”

  “I might be able to help with the gig, if that's what you truly want,” Braden said as he passed the flask back to Edson. “You're on your own with the woman though.”

  “That would be incredible.” Edson didn't believe for a minute that Braden could actually change his future, even if he had studied under Vedri Nelara. If the man could wield magic that powerful, he wouldn't be sleeping in an alley. Still, it was worth a try. If it worked, Edson would have a gig, if not, there was always the rum. “I have a few good songs already, but none have caught on. A gig would help with that.”

  “Is that what you truly want though?”

  “Of course,” Edson replied after swallowing a mouthful of rum. After passing it back, he went to work on the cork in one of the bottles of wine he had bought. He could only stomach so much rum. “I want to be the most famous singer in Vonst. I can't do that without a gig.”

  “So, the gig is simply a means to the end. What you truly want is the fame. I can help with that too.”

  “What's the price for this?” Everything had a price. Other than Alwin, nobody had helped Edson without a price since he left his father's home. “What's in it for you?”

  “My master sent me here to practice my skills.” For a brief second, the smoke cleared just as the fortune teller's eyes lifted, giving Edson a quick glimpse. In that moment, he saw only honesty and a desire to help. This was a man he could trust. “I was told to seek out those who need my help. I think you are one of those. Will you let me help you?”

  Edson nodded as the cork slid free of the wine bottle’s opening. He lifted it for a drink as Braden gathered his cards and began to shuffle them. The wine cleared Edson's thoughts and ushered the doubts back into his head. He took another swallow and watched the fortune teller, who placed four cards, face down, between a pair of crystals. He looked up, but the smoke had gathered once more and Edson couldn't clearly see his eyes. “Pick a card to represent the path you would take to find fame but don't look at it.”

  Edson hesitantly pointed to one of the two cards in the middle. Braden set it aside before gathering the other cards. He reshuffled his deck before laying out four more cards.

  “Pick another to represent the obstacles in your way.”

  After Edson picked a card, Braden again set it aside and laid out a fresh spread. Edson filled his mouth with wine.

  “Choose another to represent the price you will pay to achieve your goals.”

  “Price?” Edson asked, the doubts taking over his thoughts completely. Why hadn't he simply walked away? “Why must I pay a price? I thought you said you were doing this because your master told you to help people.”

  “All forms of magic require a price be paid. Since my magic works in randoms, the price must work the same. It's not too late to change your mind. Once I look at the cards, it will be though. Are you sure you want to continue?”

  “I've never been a quitter,” Edson said, pointing at a card. Sometimes, it seemed as if his mouth had a mind of its own. Braden sighed and placed it with the others. He swept up the remaining cards and again shuffled the deck. After laying out another four, he closed his eyes and moved his right hand back and forth over the spread. After a few seconds, he stopped and slid one of the four over with the others, before returning the three to the deck.

  He flipped over the first, but Edson didn't look. He was afraid of seeing the Death Card again. Or something worse.

  “The path you were on was wrong,” Braden said. “The card I chose will fix that. This path would've led you to ruin.”

  “It's good that we met then.”

  “Perhaps,” the fortune teller replied as he flipped the second card. Edson took another drink of wine. “Various obstacles exist on your original path. My card will remove them but may also place new obstacles in your way. This is another part of the price of magic.”

  “How do I know these obstacles won't be worse than those I'm avoiding?”

  “You don't, but this path will lead you to the fame you seek. Is that not what you want?”

  “It is what I want.” Edson took another swallow of wine as Braden turned over the third card. “Magic just scares me a bit.”

  “It scares me more than a bit, and I've spent much of my life learning to use it.” The fortune teller stared at the three exposed cards for a moment while the sage smoke seemed to swirl around the remaining card. “The arcane is not something to be played with. Your price has been set, and you will be made to pay.”

  “What is it?”

  “That's a quest
ion I can't answer. The price will be paid though. There's no turning back.”

  He flipped the final card before Edson could mouth a reply. Against his better judgment, Edson glanced at the card. It was the Death Card again! Fuck!

  “Your path is set,” Braden said. “Let's drink and celebrate your coming fame.”

  Edson wanted nothing more than to drink but had a hard time turning it into a celebration. Despite his doubts, he could almost feel the magic doing its work. While he didn't think Braden would really get him a gig, there was no telling what his magic might do. Whatever it was, Edson didn't want to face it sober.

  * * *

  Edson sang loudly as a modest audience had gathered around him. When he had awoken in the alley, the aftertaste of rum in his mouth was the only sign that Braden had even been there. By the time Edson had relieved himself and wiped the morning sand from his eyes, he had nearly forgotten the whole encounter.

  His memory was triggered as the audience continued growing while he finished a song he regularly sang. It had never drawn this sort of response. Had Braden and his magic actually been real? Was all of this a result of his card tricks? The sun reflected off the coins in Edson's upturned hat, and the clinking of more coins being tossed in served as an accompaniment to his citole. Remembering Alwin's advice about taking advantage of opportunities, Edson took his performance to another level and danced as he began the next number.

  People continued gathering. Nobody seemed to be passing him by, and the coins were piling up in his hat. At least three women were staring at him, making promises with their eyes. There were also a couple men giving him that look, but Edson stuck to the ladies. Alwin was willing to go down either path and had tried many times to convince Edson to walk it with him. He was sure his refusal was part of the reason the bard had pushed him away after only three years. Most apprentices served for at least five.

  Some of the people sang along with Edson, as he danced around each of the three ladies and a fourth as well. They all smiled, but two had watching men. Such things didn't bother Edson much, but there was no need to court trouble unnecessarily. Especially with other opportunities presenting themselves. The audience continued to grow and the coins flowed unabated into his hat. He played every song he had ever written, yet still the audience shouted for more. He gave them repeat performances of some of his favorites, and threw in a couple of Alwin's more well-known numbers. The crowd grew too large for the street though, and the city watch arrived to break them up.