"UP! GET UP!" the Piper's fair hair was suddenly yanked halfway out of his skull as the Magpie made her morning rounds. The maid he'd slept with the previous night gasped and dove under the covers. "I saw you, you little slut. " Mortola snapped. "And you!' she pointed a bony finger at the Piper. "Stop locking your door when you know you have to get up on time in the morning! It took me almost ten minutes to pick the lock!" she turned and stormed out to torment other unfortunate souls.

The Piper ran his hand through his platinum blonde hair when the maid poked her head up next to him. "I could wake you up a little more if you want." She licked her lips suggestively.

"Get out of my room, Sara." He grumbled as he reached for a robe near the bed. She humbly obliged, leaving him alone.

Ugh. He'd forgotten there was an execution today. He'd have to sing about how great Capricorn was and act grateful for the two silver coins he got for it. Sometimes being a minstrel among robbers and arsonists was so depressing. They didn't know what music was.

Outside in the courtyard all the fire-raisers were gathering like sharks that had scented blood. The accused, a scruffy looking fire-eater, was sitting miserably in a cage in the center, and Capricorn was already hamming it up on his paltry excuse for a throne.

"Piper! Play us a tune, will you?" Capricorn shouted jovially.

"Yes, sir." He said through his teeth. He struck up a song about how this particular enemy of Capricorn should have thought twice before crossing him. When he got to the part where a name had to be mentioned, he paused and asked, "What's this bloke's name?"

"Dustfinger." Replied Capricorn. The Piper nodded and continued. "Stop!" Capricorn demanded. The minstrel's fingers struck a discordant note and he turned to face his master.

"Yes?" he said with curt respect.

"That's the song you played last week, but the name is changed!" he accused.

"Yes." The Piper said.

"You can't do that! You need a new song every week!"

"I wasn't aware." The dryness was evident in his voice, and Capricorn heard it.

"Well, in case you weren't aware, I'm the one who pays for all your fine clothes, and the fancy shampoo for that soft, beautiful hair of yours, so I expect some real music from you!"

"You know nothing about music!" the Piper hissed.

"It's that stuff I pay you way too much for, right?" Capricorn asked, a smile twisting his mouth. The Piper heard Basta giggling nearby.

"Money isn't all that matters." The minstrel, face draining of color in his anger, said defiantly. "I don't need your money, and I don't need you!"

"You forget your place, Piper. If you don't need me, then go."

"Maybe I will."

"Hold it!" Firefox had stepped between the two men, who were now toe-to-toe. "Neither of you means what you're saying."

"I mean what I'm saying." They said in unison.

"Stop interfering, Firefox. Capricorn can fight his own battles." Basta cut in. He stood facing Firefox challengingly, knife tucked behind his ear amid curly black hair and a smirk growing on his face.

"Shut up, Basta!" he dismissed the knife-thrower and turned back to the Piper and Capricorn.

"Don't tell Basta to shut up!" Capricorn exclaimed.

"Yeah, don't tell me to shut up!" Basta sneered.

"Fuck you, Basta!" the Piper shouted. He abruptly picked up his lyre and stormed up to his room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Capricorn called after him.

"I'm going somewhere I'll be appreciated!" he shot back. Firefox hurried after him up the tower.

"What do you think you're proving here?" he demanded. The Piper was stuffing expensive clothes and jewelry into a bag.

"I'm tired of being held back by those cultureless idiots! I'm going to live with my kind!" he pointed out the window at a distant cloud of smoke. "The Strolling Players! They will shelter me as one of their own, and together we will build a new era of music and light!"

"You really need to take your fights with Capricorn less seriously." Firefox leaned on the door frame in exasperation.

"Look, I'm an artistic genius." The Piper paused his packing to accompany his speech with a bunch of pretentious-looking hand gestures. "A genius needs to be nurtured in a community of other, slightly less ingenius geniuses. Capricorn is stifling my genius, when it needs to be set free!" he put his hands one on top of another and flutter the fingers like wings.

"What…what was that?"

"It was a bird." Sniffed the Piper. "Flying away into a sunrise of freedom."

"My, aren't we metaphorical today." He replied dryly.

"Shut up." The Piper laughed. "Anyway, I'll write to you from the commune."

"I can't read." Firefox reminded him.

"Oh. I'll think of you." He walked past Firefox and started down the stairs.

"Fine. I'll let you sow your wild oats. Have fun. But can I have your room while you're gone?"

"NO!"

"But you don't think you're coming back!"

"Even so!"

Capricorn made no move to stop him from leaving, but a maid ran out of the crowd to stop him. "Piper!" she cried. "Please don't go, please don't leave me here! I love you!" she turned him around and put her hands on either side of his face. "I know it'll be hard to make this work, but I know we can! We're perfect for each other, you and I. What do you say to settling down on a farm, and getting married like you talked about?"

The Piper looked down in thought. "I—" he paused. She leaned in hopefully. "I have no idea who you are. Sorry." He began to walk away and turned back. "I'm really sorry. Obviously I was pretty drunk or something when you met me. I mean, I shudder to think—I hate farms, and I never want to get married. I mean—I just—don't—know you." The maid remained speechless and horror-stricken. "Sorry." He quickly walked down the road away from the awkward scene. Firefox waited until he had crested the hill to collapse laughing.

Walking past the maid, Basta commented, "If it cheers you up, this isn't the first time this has happened."