37th Day of Spring, 514AV
Sunset Quarter
Fourteenth Bell
Sunset Quarter
Fourteenth Bell
There was harmony, for a brief and shining moment. String moved against string smoothly, and from that simple connection was born a high, steady sound. Teetering on the edge of disaster it shifted from high to lower, like a voice that-
SKRRRRRRCCCCCHHHH!
-didn't quite make it over the hurdle.
"Oh, gods, again?!"
Ignore them. Practice makes perfect, that's what Red Charlie said.
Hands and the worn wood they held readjusted. More used to boxing tape and hefting grain sacks, they were alien and tentative on the delicate instrument, but adjust they did. Eyes equally inexperienced found a fresh place for the bow to rest and the melody of "Billy's Bones" came to his mind. He remembered it belted out in the Laughing Cow tavern, much faster, frenetic, the kind of beat and rhythm that grabbed your pulse and threw your limbs into movement like a djed curse.
For a handful of notes the bow glided over the strings, less than half as fast as Charlie's dexterous, practiced fingers, but the same song. Nate smiled over the top of the fiddle and carefully changed the position of his fingers on the neck, aiming for-
SKRRAAARRCHHHH!
"Haven't you got work?!"
Current laborer, past ganger and moonlighting brawler Nathaniel Ankah rolled his eyes and his taut body relaxed on his stool, letting the fiddle fall from its place on his shoulder.
"One must practice, Missus Agnes!"
"When there's sign of getting better, I grant ye!" The gnarled old woman next poor paused to take her hands from her ears, but only when she'd confirmed Nate's instruments of torture were no longer primed for further agony. "But you, my lad? Good grief..."
There was a titter from the other side of the yard and Nate narrowed his eyes at Kay, affixing a fresh hem to an evening dress for the girl five doors down. The older woman saw the look and just raised a challenging eyebrow. Naturally, her adopted son folded, shrugging instead.
"What? I need to work on it."
There was a little rustle as Kay removed one of the clods of wool from her ear. "Such optimism is to be applauded, my boy. But Cecile does have a point..."
"Pfft... she'd just upset about her cat."
"What about Roger?"
"Last Winter." Nate said with a wicked grin, winking at her as he settled the fiddle back into his shoulder. "Food was a problem, remember? Then it wasn't, and we had that lovely stew-"
"Nathaniel?!" She gasped, scandalized, speaking low and flicking a look at the old lady next door. "You didn't...?!"
Another wink and a remorseless shrug. She sighed and went back to her work. Some things just couldn't be changed, and at least her young man was trying to apply himself to the finer things. But poor Roger-
"Matthew?!" She said, voice high and happy as she rose painfully to her feet at the new visitor. Nate tossed Matthew a quick look of acknowledgment, then went back to his burgeoning musical career. "So good to see you again! What brings you-"
SKKRRRRCHHH!
"Bollocks!"
"Nathaniel?!"
"Sorry, sorry..." Nate rose to his full, towering height, tucking the bow under his arm to offer his hand to his newest and most unusual friend. "Out hunting more potato soup, are we? Or you just here for the music?"
"Huh!" There was a pottering voice from over the fence and Nate shot the bare wood a sour glance. "That's what he's calling it...?"
