It was on the fourth day of her visit that the summons arrived, accompanied by the dress of pink silk and a seamstress prepared to make the final adjustments to the garment. She was requested to join the band after the concert that evening; but to her ears the request had the demanding sound of a royal command. Some age-old feminine intuition made her send a reply that she would present herself as soon as she was sure her appearance would do proper honor to her hosts. When she tried on the dress, she was grateful she had thought to word her response so vaguely. The upper part of the dress seemed to expose an excessive amount of flesh, while the long skirt had been designed to cling immodestly to her hips and legs. Quickly she sent a servant for remnants from the bolt of silk, and together she and the seamstress redesigned the gown to a more demure style in which she felt far more comfortable. While the seamstress went to work, the young woman went to her window and gazed sightlessly at the town square, where the day's rehearsal was beginning to wind down.
She had heard more than just legends during her tours of the town. While the townspeople would never openly criticize their benefactors, she had gotten the impression that even after generations of side-by-side existence, there was very little interaction between the two factions. With the exception of the women hired for intimate service, no one had ever spent time alone with individual members of the band. They appeared as a group for rehearsals and concerts, held their infrequent audiences with the townspeople as a group, and even seemed to spend much of their leisure time together as a group. Aside from an infrequent disciplinary action or executive command, the band ignored the people who served them. The people accepted this as the proper way for the priests of a powerful god to behave.
From the point of view of an outsider, it seemed the band was trying to maintain some sort of fiction about themselves. Either their intent was to enhance the legends by maintaining an aloof superiority, or they intended the band to be the legend while the individual members kept their personal identities to themselves. Either way, it was quite obvious they had lost touch with the world outside the palace by isolating themselves among their servants and guards. She, who had so recently traveled and seen so many new sights and met so many new people, could not comprehend this attitude. What could have happened in the past to have made five men so determined to separate themselves from the world? Resolved to study this question from as many angles as she could, she decided to forego the evening's performance entirely. Instead she sent for the child who was her personal servant, and shortly thereafter sent him away with instructions to bring to her certain townspeople she thought could help her.
The men in the band thought nothing of her reply to their summons, for all of them were very well acquainted with the vanity of women. They were, however, surprised to find her missing from the audience, and more surprised when she did not join them after the concert. Most astonishing of all, it was the next day before she appeared, and to complicate the offense, she appeared at the door to their communal dining room just after breakfast had been served. Adding insult to injury, she was smiling cheerfully, while they were all still feeling the effects of the usual late-night activities.
The drummer, who was the most articulate of them all at this early hour, motioned her forward and indicated a place in front of them where satin pillows were spread before the low table where they ate. When she had seated herself, he said quietly, "You certainly know how to pick the time for a visit. Since none of us will feel like talking for some time yet, perhaps you would like to tell us your story. Before we can help you in this quest of yours, we need to know who you are and what you seek."
Shyly she nodded, and studied her hands for a moment before speaking in a soft, low-pitched voice. "I am called Adrianna," she began. The dark-haired guitarist looked up sharply and stared at her intently for several seconds, but when she did not seem to notice his interest, he returned his attention to his meal. The singer looked thoughtfully from the girl to his partner, but made no comment.
"I do not know where I originally came from. When I was still a babe, raiders came to my parents' village and killed all but the smallest children. We were taken by sea to the homeland of these raiders, and placed with childless couples to be raised. The people who raised me loved me, I suppose, but they devoted all of their energy to making their farm profitable and they had little time for games or music. In fact, no one in that village seemed to be interested in music, or flowers, or even laughter. Those who were not farmers, raised silkworms or otherwise worked at the production of fine silk cloth like that which I brought to you.
"I first discovered music when I was very small. In the mornings there were birds singing, and on warm afternoons there were insects buzzing. No one else seemed to hear these sounds, or if they did they ignored them. Then, when I was about twelve, a troupe of traveling musicians came to the village. They had a drum, and a flute, and a small stringed instrument called a lute. There was a woman with them, who wore beautiful, bright-colored skirts and played cymbals on her fingers while she danced to the music. I thought they were the most wonderful sight I had ever seen, but the rest of the village shunned them, and they were forced to set up their camp in the hills beyond the town. All during that summer I snuck away when I could, to go and visit the gypsies. The dancing lady taught me to sing, but I could not perform her dances correctly, and my fingers were too small to play the lute properly. But after they moved on I continued to sing whenever I could. The other children my age laughed at me, but the little ones used to follow me around and listen. My step-parents did not approve, but there was little they could do to stop me. I was always so happy when my chores were done and I could run off to the hills to sing with the other creatures of nature."
She paused in her tale and smiled at the memories. The men, now wide-awake and interested in spite of themselves, looked at each other with questions in their eyes. Could she really sing, or was it just the imaginings of a lonely child? Did she sing in a clear soprano like the birds, or was her singing voice the same dark, sultry tone as her speaking voice? Did she even truly sing, or did she just make the sounds she had heard in the fields? It had been eons since any of them had bothered to listen to the sounds of nature, but they all knew exactly what she was talking about. There was music there, and it had a far happier sound than what they created.
Adrianna shook her head to clear it, and continued her story. "Last year my step-father died of a wasting disease, and another man from the village claimed our farm and my step-mother. Only a few days after he had been in the house, he cornered me in the barn and told me I would be sharing his bed that evening. I got scared, because my mother has always told me I must never share a bed with any man until after the hand-joining ceremony. And this man was already hand-joined to my mother! He was also dirty, and smelly, and his teeth were rotting in his mouth. He tried to touch me then, and I pushed him away and ran off to the hills. I went to the hill-dwellers. These are people who don't like villages and rules, and they live in caves far up in the hills. They also know about music, and I had been visiting them from time to time for the last two years. The old wise-woman, who is called Bronwyn, took me in and taught me to make simple medicines, and I helped her by gathering the herbs she needed. Sometimes in the evening we would go to a gathering, where there was music and ritual dancing, and a wonderful sweet drink that makes you feel like you are floating on air. This is where I first discovered that the beat of the drums could get into my blood and make me feel strange. One night, I started to sing with the music - I think I had drunk too much and it made me forget my place. Everyone stopped their dancing to listen to me, and although I was embarrassed, I felt too good to stop. I don't remember any of the words I sang, but I do remember that they kept begging for more, and after a while the men and women began pairing off and slipping away from the fire. The musicians played until I was so tired I nearly fell over, and then we all went to sleep by the fire and made our way home the next morning.
"A few days later Bronwyn asked me about my singing. I explained to her about the drums, and that I thought some demon must have gotten in my head, and the only way I could think to let it out was to sing. Then she asked me questions about my parents, my real parents, and I told her what little I knew. For several days afterwards, I would catch her mumbling to herself, but when I asked she told me it was nothing I needed to know yet. At the next gathering, I saw her watching me carefully when the music started, and I tried to behave properly, but I simply could not control whatever it was that possessed me. The next day she told me a story about a group of people who had lived long ago in a far off land, who were renowned for their musical ability. They could make music so sweet that wild animals became tame, or so wild that fierce storms filled the skies. These people had disappeared in the mists of time, but she believed that I held a trace of their ancestry. When I asked what this meant, and whether the course of my life was determined by it, she promised to help me find the answers.
"I continued to live with her as her assistant, and each time there was a gathering, I went and sang. The feelings inside me continued to grow, and became more troublesome each time, but I never even considered not singing, not going to join the music. Finally, this spring, Bronwyn disappeared for several days. When she returned, she led me down the hill to the valley. There she had assembled a caravan of wagons and guards. The guards knew the way to a sacred place, she said, where I could find answers to my questions. The wagons were loaded with the finest silks made in the village, meant to be gifts to the high priests of the great music god who reigned there. It was possible that in this place I would find my own people. If not, she was sure I would be accepted, and treated well, once my special gift was discovered. So I bid her goodbye, and we traveled for several weeks, and when we came upon your city, I had the strange feeling that I had come home. And that is my story."
There was a long silence in the room when she finished. Adrianna looked up for the first time, and found five pairs of eyes trained on her with an incredible degree of intensity. She scanned their faces, and settled on the blond giant, who wore the most encouraging look. Smiling self-consciously, she asked if she might have a drink. He snapped his fingers, gave a quiet order to the servant who magically appeared, and seconds later she received a crystal glass filled with a clear liquid. She sipped, and was surprised at the sudden burning in her throat, which quickly turned to a soothing warmth in her stomach.
"What is it?" she asked.
The giant chuckled. "Vodka. Don't worry, though, in this room the effects of the alcohol are neutralized. You could drink it all day and not even get a buzz, drink it for a year and not do a bit of damage to your liver. You will find, however, that it does give you a relaxed feeling."
The other men frowned at him, annoyed that he had given away one of their magical secrets. He shrugged, and looked back at the girl. "You told us your name, so I guess it would only be polite to tell you ours. I'm Tom." He proceeded to name his partners; the other blond was Brad, the drummer was Joey, the singer was Steven, and the dark guitarist was Joe. "The name of the band is the Arrow. Many years ago, long before you were born, all of these names were longer, but . . . " he shrugged again, ". . . time passes, and things change. We know that better than anyone, I guess."
"So you have told us why you came here," Joe suddenly said. He was slouched back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, smirking at her. "What is it you expect us to do for you? We all know about these 'feelings' you want defined, but it sounds like you would expect a - what did you call it? - a hand-joining ceremony, before you would let one of us . . . uh, exorcise your demons, so to speak. And you simply ain't gonna get that, babydoll," he laughed harshly.
Steven frowned at him. "Ignore him," he told her. "He has completely forgotten what innocence is. And you are totally innocent, aren't you? I didn't think there was a female left in this world who would have the nerve to be in the same room with all of us, let alone start asking questions about drums pounding in the blood and strange sensations in the body. Do you even realize what kind of fire you are playing with?"
Only twenty-four hours before their words would have confused and shamed her. But the magic spell woven into the fabric of her pink silk dress had been at work since her first fitting, and it now took full effect. Standing slowly, she faced them and studied their jaded expressions with more understanding than they knew. Her meetings with several of the townspeople and servants the day before had given her a suspicion about this band, and it was now confirmed. Because of the spell, she could practically look into their hearts, seeing not only the cynicism and weariness of too many years of life, but also the loneliness that was buried so deep they could not even recognize its existence any longer. Her own longings may have led her here, but it was a somewhat different task that awaited her than she had been led to believe.
"Perhaps you underrate innocence," she began, with a coy little smile. "Or perhaps I am not as innocent as you think. In any case, I feel no fear of you. In the last few days I have heard the legends about you, and I have spoken to people who knew you then, and people who know you now. I understand now that I was sent here for another purpose apart from my own questions."
"Oh yeah? What's that?" sneered Joe.
She ignored him and addressed herself to the rest of the band. "There is a trade fair just outside the city walls. It starts in three days. Would any of you like to go with me? Besides the market stalls, there will be games, contests, food, and performers."
Brad and Tom grinned, Joey and Steven looked skeptical but willing to be persuaded, and Joe was frowning, regarding her like a troublesome insect. "We don't have time to waste on county fairs. Wander around in the dust, mingle with people who can't even appreciate our music? No way. We have work to do here, music to write, arrangements to clean up . . ."
"And when was the last time you took a day off?" Adrianna shot back.
Joe looked startled at the sudden attack, and Steven grinned. "Years ago, when Joey broke his wrist. I don't even remember what we did while he healed."
Joey answered him. "Hung around here and got on each other's nerves. Worst three weeks I can remember. You gotta understand, babe. There is just us. We've been together for so long that the only thing we can stand about each other is the music. This is our gig - we rehearse, we play, we party. There ain't much else to do."
"Have you tried to do anything else? Have you ever tried to be part of the village?" She looked at each of them in turn. "How much would it hurt to miss one day of rehearsals?"
"Nothing!" said Tom suddenly. "What's the point of owning all this land if we never see it? I don't even remember what the outside of this city looks like. It's not like that audience of ours will care if we miss a show or two. They aren't even aware of the passage of time. If there is no rehearsal, the vibes don't go out, and they just don't show. I say lets give ourselves a break."
"I second that!" Joey suddenly was convinced. "But I don't give a damn about any fair - sorry, baby," he apologized with a charming grin. "I want to go down to the river and fish. I haven't done that since probably before this little girl was born."
They all looked at Steven, who was laughing at the scowl on Joe's face. "Might as well give in, man, so its unanimous. Three days from now, the Arrow takes a vacation."
Throwing up his hands, Joe gave up the fight and got up to leave the room. The others taunted him about sulking until he sat back down.
Adrianna beamed at them delightedly. "Now you must remember, this is a holiday for you. The townspeople will not bother you, so you can leave your bodyguards behind; or be nice and give them the day off too. And don't prowl around together like some raiding party - go off on your own and do what you want to do." She winked at Joey.
"And which of us will you be gracing with your presence?" Joe blurted out sarcastically. "You invited the whole group to go to the fair 'with you', and now you are splitting us up."
"Oh, I'll find time to spend with each of you." She smiled at him blithely. "But I think I will start the day with you, to make sure you don't melt when the sun hits your face for the first time."
He looked shocked, and the other guys roared with laughter. Grabbing a pillow from the floor, he threw it with deadly accuracy at Tom. "Melt in the sun, my ass! I'm not the one who looks like a friggin' albino."
More pillows and insults flew, but without any real anger, and Adrianna slipped out of the room with a victorious smile on her face.
Shortly after dawn on the appointed day, the five men waited outside the palace for their young guest. Although she had attended the concert each night since their meeting, she had avoided any personal contact with them. They, however, were aware of her activities, since her servants were their own employees. Early each morning she left the city and disappeared into the woods, returning at midday with baskets full of plants. In the afternoons she worked in a stillroom, drying some of the plants and blending the others with oils and other concoctions which she stored in jars and bottles labeled with symbols only she seemed to understand. After dinner she attended the daily concert, escorted by her personal guard. They had all grown accustomed to her presence in the front row. In fact - although neither of them would admit it - Steven and Joe had quickly come to rely on Adrianna's reactions to their music rather than the audience's reactions. They tried to tell themselves it was merely because she was more real than the people in the seats, and presented a fresh reaction to the music as well.
Meanwhile, their new clothes had begun to arrive: loose, flowing shirts of polished silk that shimmered in the light, pants and jackets of raw silk that were so much lighter than leather, vests of colorfully embroidered and brocaded silk. Steven loved the bright colors and the way the fabric flowed around him, while the others appreciated the freedom of movement afforded by looser fitting clothing. In fact, on this day each of them had chosen to wear at least one piece from his new wardrobe, a fact Adrianna had counted on when she issued her invitation.
She herself wore her pink dress, along with a broad-brimmed hat and sandals. As she came out the door, they all sensed a difference about her. Viewed from the stage on that first day, she had seemed very young, very unsure of herself, and completely vulnerable. Now they saw a confident young lady who walked with her head held high, approached them with smiling dignity, and made her greetings with the knowing smile of a sophisticated woman. Slightly disconcerted by this metamorphosis, they were unnaturally quiet and polite as they escorted her toward the city gate.
Outside the city they bid Joey goodbye, and he set off toward the river with his fishing gear and Adrianna's promise to bring him a snack at midday. Spread out all around them were the tents and tables of the fair merchants, loaded with everything from leather goods to ironwork to herbal tonics. Beyond that were the cooks' tents, and already delicious aromas were drifting about on the light breeze. Farther down the main road was the entertainment; puppet shows and games for the children, music and artisans for the women, and contests of strength and courage for the men.
Adrianna smiled up at her companions. "How does it feel to be free?" she asked. "Will you be able to entertain yourselves for the next few hours?"
They were looking just a little lost, a little confused by the lack of a set schedule. Using the information she had gathered from the servants, she gently began directing them in the direction she thought would appeal most to each. She pointed Tom in the direction of the woodworkers' guild, and directed Brad to several booths of finely crafted leather goods. Steven she led to the soothsayers and herbalists. Satisfied that they were separated well enough not to regroup immediately, she turned to her remaining charge with a mischievous smile.
"I see you haven't melted yet."
Joe eyed her cynically and ignored the comment. "Very well done," he drawled. "You managed to take each of them to the one place he would surely be fascinated by. Not that difficult, actually, since many people know Tom likes to whittle, Brad has a large collection of leather belts and boots, and Steven dabbles in mysticism. Now whatever could you have discovered about me?"
She giggled for answer and took his hand, leading him behind a row of tents dealing in domestic items and down a short slope to a separate encampment. Here several brightly colored tents had been pitched in a semi-circle, and in front of them were gathered a small group of musicians and a variety of musical instruments. The minstrels who had traveled with her were there as well, and she led Joe to their tent, introducing him and telling them about the amazing sounds he created with his guitar. Immediately someone brought out a lute, another person brought out a fiddle, and then a crude version of a guitar appeared. Without knowing how it happened, Joe found himself in the middle of a seminar on stringed instruments, as both teacher and student. Smiling to herself, Adrianna left him and returned to the main part of the fair.
After touring the stalls on her own and stopping to talk with several of the herbalists and healers, she went back to check on her charges. The first person she ran to ground was Brad. He looked as happy as a little boy with a new puppy - which, in fact, he was. A roly-poly dog of mixed ancestry followed at his heels, gazing adoringly up at his new master. Adrianna laughed. "I see you have been adopted."
Brad shook his head in mock dismay. "I don't know where he came from. One minute I'm alone, and the next this ball of fur is licking my boots and looking at me like I was his savior. No one else will claim him, and he simply will not leave my side. Do you think there is any problem with me keeping him?"
She looked closely at him, carefully hiding her surprise at the question. This man was one of the rulers of the town, highly revered as a high priest of a most powerful god, and he was asking her permission to keep a puppy? And despite the fact that legend held him to be centuries old, he looked as young and eager as a small boy. Had just a few hours outside the town walls caused this change? How intriguing. Wanting to observe this phenomenon more closely, she suggested they walk together for a while, and they set off with the puppy following his new master closely.
Half an hour later she left him with a group of children, playing fetch with the dog. She searched the crowds for another familiar face, eager to see if the novelty of a day off was affecting the others in the same way. The next person she found was Steven. He was simultaneously flirting with a beautiful woman, listening to an elderly couple explain how their herbal lotion could soften the skin, and giving a toddler a piggy-back ride. When he saw her watching him, he grinned and waved; and she was struck by the fact that he, too, wore a carefree air that was completely at odds with his supposedly jaded tastes. Deciding he was well and happily occupied, she walked on until she came to the outskirts of the fair.
There was an entire field set aside for the men's' competitions. Here she found Tom learning how to shoot - a bow and arrow. Though he far surpassed the other men in height and strength, he was clearly showing his respect for the skill his instructors displayed. When he let off a shot that barely nicked the target, he laughed good-naturedly and asked for help with his aim. The men quickly offered advice, which he listened to carefully and tried to follow. Adrianna left after seeing his aim improve to the point where three arrows in a row hit the target.
She had two more men to check on. Stopping at the food stalls, she filled a basket with bread, roast fowl, and cheese, added a flask of sweet cider, and took a path toward the river that would lead her past the musicians' tents. Joe was seated on a low stool beside an ancient man, whose fingers were yet nimble enough to match the speed of Joe's playing. They both used guitars made of beautiful highly polished wood, and she guessed these were the old man's prized possessions. Like Tom and Steven, it appeared that Joe had taken on the role of student; it was even more obvious that he had completely abandoned his mask of hardened cynicism. She hurried away before her presence could disrupt his lesson.
Somehow her feet led her easily to the spot where Joey had set up his fishing gear. He was leaning against the trunk of an old willow tree near the edge of the riverbank. As she watched there was a tug on his line and he pulled in a large fish, which he immediately unhooked and threw back. Making enough noise to avoid startling him, she took him the basket containing his lunch.
"Are you throwing everything back?" she asked, surprised because where she came from, fishing was an economic necessity.
He grinned back at her. "I hate fish. I hate the taste, I hate the smell, I hate to touch the stupid things."
She sat down and began laying out his lunch on a couple of napkins, some instinct telling her she should not be surprised at his words. "So why did you wish to spend your day off catching things you can't stand?" she asked in a neutral tone.
Still, he gave her a look that said mere women would never understand. "Hmm . . . let me ask you something in return. Sit there and tell me what you hear."
She listened carefully, but beyond the sounds of nature which she heard as music, there was nothing. Well, she thought, perhaps I can prove to him that I hear as well as the next person. "I hear the rippling of the river as it passes over that rock a few feet upstream. I hear the rustling of leaves in the breeze. I hear a lark in that oak across the water, and downstream a ways there are two or three jays quarreling. There are also quite a lot of insects humming for this time of day; bees in that patch of flowers over there, dragonflies down by the water, and a cricket who obviously does not realize that it is noon instead of dusk. Is there something else I should hear?"
He looked at her in amazement. "You make it sound like this is a noisy place. I've been congratulating myself all morning on finding the quietest place for miles around." Then he laughed. "You wanted to know why I'm fishing. I came here for the peace and quiet. There are no guitars, no drums, no voices. No people to argue with, and no people to order around. I can imagine for just a few hours that I am the only person in the universe. I can get to know myself again."
She nodded her understanding. "You wish to remind yourself of your identity apart from the band."
Wide-eyed, he nodded. "I don't know why that suddenly became important, but it is. I love being in that band, and I love the music we make together. But in the past few days, I have had the feeling that something was missing. There was something I needed to find. The idea to spend the day like this came from nowhere, but now I know it was exactly the right thing to do. I'm still not sure what it is I am going to find, but I know somehow I am getting closer to it. Do you understand any of this?"
Adrianna smiled, and her eyes rested on the vest he wore, which was made of one of the fabrics she had brought with her. The seeds of suspicion grew in her mind. "Yes, I do understand the feeling. It is similar to my own quest. You seek the thing that is missing from your life, which is what we all seek. When you learn what exactly it is that you seek, you will be so much closer to finding it."
About to bite into a chunk of cheese, his eyes widened. "You know an awful lot for someone so young."
"Bronwyn once told me that I had an old soul in a new shell. I begin to think there is more to it than that, though. Well, I shall leave you to your peace and quiet, for I promised to rejoin the others for lunch. I hope you find what you seek this afternoon, Joey. Please come to the fair when you tire of your hated fish - there should be a very lively party tonight." With a wave, she left him and returned to the fair.