Master Killian remembers how he joined the Bards guild

Master Killian rode to the Guildhall of the Bards; when he approached the building, an apprentice came forward to take his horse. It had been nearly ten years since Master Killian had returned to the guildhall of his youth here in Princetown; looking around at the arching roof supports were the deep brown wood that he remembered standing in contrast to the stone slabs of the first floor of the building that they held up. He was always taken back to the day that he had first arrived at the guildhall many years ago.

The wind had blown his cloak around him, almost tangling around his feet, and at six summers old, his father, a local minor merchant, had found a bard been attacked on the road and was in a bad way.

The Bard had taken an arrow to the shoulder from some brigand and had got soaked in a rainstorm that had lasted for two solid days; by the time they had found him, he was coughing and was deadly pale. His father had nursed the Bard for those first few days, never leaving the bards side all the while telling his son. To make sure that he never harmed a bard at the same time as calling curses down on those that did.

It took three days until the Bard was well enough to be moved from the makeshift tent. They had put him in the back of their wagon on top of the bales of cloth. The dirt and blood on the Bard had ruined more than one bale of fabric, but his father had not cared. “Cloth can be replaced, people can’t” was all he said about the matter.

It took another two weeks to make the trip to Princetown due to the slow pace they were forced to take to keep the Bard from getting too ill.

When they finally got to Princetown, and were able to get help from the town watch. The watch guard escorted them to a decent tavern in the city, where the tavern keeper came out to the front door as soon as he noticed the guard escorting a merchant to his tavern. As soon as the Tavern keeper had seen the Bard, he had exclaimed. “Jacquard!, what happened?”

“You know this bard?” asked the guard.

“Yes, that’s Jackard Lillybright, a journeyman from the guildhall here in Princetown; he always plays here when he has time,” replied the tavern keeper.

“Thanks, I’ll make sure that Lord Wisterlane is informed,” replied the guard as he left the tavern.

Thirty minutes later, the guard came back into the room; a finely dressed man followed closely who we took to be the Lord of the city. He looked around the room, taking in the tavern keeper along with my father and me.

“Where is the Bard?” Asked the man to the tavern keeper.

“We moved him to the backroom, my Lord. It is located next to the privy so that he won’t have to use the stairs, and the cook and kitchen girl can keep an eye on him during the day,” replied the tavern keeper.

“Take me to him,” ordered the Lord.

“This way, your lordship,” said the tavern-keeper leading him to the back room past my father and me.

As Lord Wisterlane passed the table we were sitting at, he nodded to my father and tossed the hair on my head. “You have my thanks for helping the bard; we will speak more when I return from seeing him.”

When Lord Wisterlane, came back he pulled up a stool and sat beside me. Looking to my father, he said, “Can you tell me what happened to him and where?”

“I can tell you what I know, but I don’t know much your lordship; we found him lying by the side of the road to Carse several days ago. He was in a bad way; we lit a fire and started to get him warm, and took the arrow out of his shoulder. It took a couple of days to build up his strength enough to move him, and then we had to travel at a snail’s pace. He’s been delirious most of the time but was calm when my son would sing little rhymes to him. As to who attacked him, I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

“Thank you?” said the Lord.

“Eammon Killian, your lordship merchant by trade,” he replied when the Lord had hesitated.

“Eammon Killian, you and your son have my personal thanks; you are welcome at my fire any time you come to Princetown,” replied the Lord.

Shaking his head, the Lord turned to the guard. “Get two men and head up the road to Carse and see what you can find. Then head on to Carse and ask the Lord if he has a tracker that could look at the location and track it back to where the Bard was attacked. Also, send a messenger to Commander Pinkerton.”

“My Lord, if I may, there is an old dead tree on the road; we found the Bard shortly after passing that tree if that helps,” said my father.

“I know the tree you’re talking about, thanks,” said the guard nodding his gratitude to my father.

“The Guild will be sending people here; they might have some questions for you; please wait here as my guest for a few days. I will make sure that you are recompensed for your time and effort,” said Lord Wisterlane.

“Of course, my Lord, We can wait around for a few days; some of my goods are damaged, I’ll need to sort through it. No point carrying spoilt goods to the capital, “replied Eammon Killian.

Several minutes later, a group of three members of the Guild arrived and spoke to the Lord. Saying their thanks, the Lord Wisterlane, the three of them headed to the back room with the Bard.

The leader of the group was Mistress Langhart, and she was an imposing woman. After inspecting Jackard’s wounds, she came into the backyard to thank my father, who was in the process of tossing bales of material into a pile to be burnt. She watched him throw half of the bales of silk from the back of the wagon onto the ground. Blood and dirt had destroyed them. Seeing the look of sorrow on my fathers face as he prepared to set the torch to the bales, she came over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You have done the Guild a great service. I want you to know that if there is ever anything the Guild can do for you or your family, then let us know.”

“My thanks, Mistress Langhart; the only thing I want is to provide a good future for my children.”

“An admirable quality and sentiment that serves you and your family well,” said Mistress Langheart with a slight curtsy; she turned and left as she passed me she stopped.

“Do you honour your father, boy?” She asked; her eyes felt that they were piercing me through to my soul.

I remember stammering, “Yes, mam,” to which I received a smile that lit up her eyes.

It would be another three days until my father would be ready to leave, and I spent my days helping around the tavern. One or another of the guild members would play the lute while I worked, and I would sing little ditties to myself as he played.

As we were preparing to leave, Lord Wisterlane and Mistress Langheart arrived. “Master Killian, you have made your family proud with your actions in saving the Bard. Take this gold you will find that it covers the losses to your goods and more,” said Lord Wisterlane.

“My lord, you are too generous”, replied my father taking the heavy pouch of gold from Lord Wisterlane, the weight of which would probably have covered the costs and profits of the trip three times over.

“I’ll leave you with Mistress Langheart here who has something to ask you, remember you are welcome in my home always,” replied Lord Wisterlane, clasping my father on the shoulder before turning and leaving.

Looking to Mistress Langhart, “How may I help you, mam?” asked my father.

“Master Killian, the Guild is always searching for talented individuals to join its ranks. Have you noticed that there is always one of us playing a tune near your son while he works?”

“I hadn’t noticed, but why?” replied my father.

“Your son has a great ear and mind for our lore; he learned a completely new song yesterday. There is no straightforward way to broach the subject, but I would like you to apprentice your son to the Guild. As you know, the cost of an apprenticeship is usually quite high, but we can and do waive that for talented youngsters and also for your actions in saving a member of the Guild.”

“I’m honoured, but I just don’t know; I would have to speak with his mother about it first,” replied my father kneeling down beside me and looking me in the eye; he continued, “What do you think, son? I know you are only six, but would you like to learn music? It is a great honour, you know, and you would have a great future.”

“I don’t know, papa” was all I said.

We had headed home, and my parents had spoken about it. I was the eldest of three boys, and mum was already pregnant with my future sister.

Master Killian was shaken from his memories by a voice that brought a smile to his face.

“Shall I bring you some cod liver oil, young master Killian,” said an old man in soft brown robes.

“No, Master Lillybright, just remembering how I came here to the guild, that’s all.”

Rubbing his shoulder where the arrow had hit him forty years ago, he replied, “Don’t remind me, I still ache, so what brings you here.”