Chapter Five - Three Fingers

Waking up beside Devi was vastly more exciting when it held the possibility of morning-after play. Never before had I wanted to leave a bed that little.

It transformed her to be with me; whereas she was always flippant and quick with a joke, now she was positively giddy and carefree when we were together. The decades upon decades of weariness that had fallen onto her shoulders in the last few years due to her leaving the University and immersing herself in the cutthroat business of loaning silver, it all fell away. She could act her own age for a brief period, or younger still, and I think that benefited her more than our actual liaisons.

And that, of course, is the end of this story. Or it would be in a more ideal world. Such a beautiful, picturesque ending. For the sake of the reader of this chronicle, I suggest you take it at that and skip ahead a few chapters to the remainder of my story and ignore this dark period to come.

And if you decide to ignore my warning, be it on your own head.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Perhaps two span later, maybe not so long as that, we had just enjoyed another frolick in her chambers. It had been a particularly lucrative day in which I earned another two talents with lute and voice, and Devi collected from several clients whom had borrowed heavily to begin with. We were rich, or as rich as two dropouts from University could hope to be with no proper careers to fall back on. Then, after we celebrated in the most primitive fashion possible, we were lying together beneath her sheets, shining with exertion and blissfully spent.

"Kvothe..."

"Eh?"

"Let's get married."

"WHAT?"

She giggled. "Caught you with that one."

"Too right." When she giggled anew, I dug my fingertips into her ribcage until she cackled loud enough for the butcher to pound on the ceiling. As she wiped a tear of laughter away from her eye, I asked, "What made you think about that?"

"I couldn't say," she told me easily, flopping back into her pillow, a touch breathless from multiple kinds of exertion. "Just that... would you think me insane to consider it? We do seem well-suited for each other, even if we're the only ones who believe that."

"Need we get married to enjoy each other, though?"

"Not in the strictest sense," she had to admit. "And there'd be precious few who might attend, anyway. You're right, as usual; our silver would be better wasted on a bottle of brand and a few sensual oils."

"I've been thinking about something," I told her suddenly, the only thing tying her thought and mine together being the topic of money. "When we began this, ah... 'adventure' of ours, you promised to wipe out my debt."

"You're really going to hold me to that?" she asked incredulously. "God's body, I was trying to rope you into my loins; I'd have offered to buy you the moon if I thought you'd believe me."

"Very funny." Clawing her way over to my chest, she settled against it before I continued. "Well... I did disregard it, because I've still been paying you back. And by my calculations, I've only got about four more talents left to earn."

There was a brief pause as Devi went very still. "Oh."

"And then I'd be out of your hair. That is... if that's what you wanted."

"It is, of course," she told me in a would-be disinterested tone. "You're taking up valuable space in my pitiful dwelling. How soon do you leave?"

"Stop," I sighed. "What I meant to say is, if you didn't mind putting up with me for another span or so... I'd like to save up for a more passable lute."

"You could take out another loan," she tempted me.

"Never."

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "Once bitten, twice shy." Illustrating her point, she sank her teeth into my chest just enough to prompt a yelp from me. "So you're saying you want to defer payment for now and devote your earnings to a better instrument?"

"Just that. A span should be long enough to get me a dozen talents or so, and giving up that in trade with my old lute... there has to be a beautiful specimen around here somewhere I can lay my hands on."

"I know where there's one." Her fingers played across my abdomen, and I let out a contented sigh. Relentless, but enticing. "But by the time you finished saving up for and buying this fabled lute of yours... term would have come to an end. You'd owe me another two talents."

"I know."

She shrugged. "You could always pay me off first and then save up for your lute. Not that it's smart business practice for me to inform you of that."

"I could... but I think I'd rather upgrade my instrument first. And this way I'm guaranteed a place to sleep until I've got my lute."

"Ahh, I see your game," she said with a hint of amusement. "Free room and board until you've got a shiny new seven-string, and all thanks to Mistress Devi. Clever boy."

"Of course, I could just pay you off first so you needn't put up with me. Your call."

Devi's voice dropped to a whisper when she responded about one full minute after I last spoke. "Stay with me a little longer."

"What?"

"Get your lute," she said, closer to her usual tones. "I'll find my way to enduring your wretched face for a few more days."

-0-0-0-0-0-

So that is precisely what came to pass. Devi and I forgot my impending departure from her bed, and I played my heart out for the lords and ladies of Imre. During this time I also shopped around for a new lute, and was delighted to find a place that had a superlative one for a mere nine-and-seven, which was two talents less than I'd expected to pay. It was as if Tehlu himself had sculpted it. The next day, when I'd accumulated the needed money, I inspected it at length, played a bit, bought it, and pawned the old one for an amazing talent. I say it was amazing because my payment was double what I expected to receive for the dilapidated old piece of driftwood.

You'd think me a sentimental fool, but I actually hesitated to part with it. Old piece of driftwood or no, it was the first lute I'd bought with my own money. But I had no need of two, and I'd wager there was a young, starving musician somewhere in Imre that would find their way to the same pawn broker.

"A jug of wine, a loaf of bread," I crowed to Devi as I waltzed inside her room that eve and placed the wine and bread into her surprised arms. "And a lute fit for kings!"

"That isn't how the poem goes," she said with a grin. "But I'm happy to see you in such high spirits."

"Thought we might treat ourselves a bit."

Devi's dimples deepened. "Only if you play for me. It seems as if it's been an age since you have!"

"It was three days ago."

"You see how I mean? Play, play!"

She poured us glases of the fruit wine and after I'd had a sip or two, I took out my new instrument, tuned it meticulously, and played her a quick, jaunty tune that she could clap along with. Which she did, and she joined me on the chorus, voice sweet yet robust; she was no shrinking violet whose song litled on a breeze like strand of spider's web. I liked her that way.

Soon after we had polished off the bread and most of the wine, I swept her up in my arms and we again retired to her bed. Nearly an hour later, she lay atop me when she asked, "Where did you learn to coax that much emotion from a lute?"

I shrugged sheepishly. "The Ruh."

"The Edema Ruh?" she asked, sitting back and blinking at me. "I hadn't figured you for a vagrant."

"They are a distinguished troupe of artists and craftsmen," I defended them automatically. I'm sure she caught the flint in my gaze, because her own slid away.

"Well... yes, of course." She sighed bitterly. "Oh, it's my father speaking through me, not my own opinion. You see, my mother abandoned the both of us to run off with one of their number and he never forgave them for it. Twenty-odd years is long while to hold a grudge."

"A lot of women ran off to join the Ruh. My mother, too. I overheard my parents talking of the noble she'd been wed to before he lured her away with his raw talent and charisma."

We both laughed for a moment, struck by the the effects the same band of traveling performers had had on our lives. Similarities. Then, as one, we both glanced at each other's hair, at the quality of our gold-rimmed malachite eyes. Nimble fingers played over lips and noses as we explored, as we felt a deep tension building around us, as if a stormcloud were gathering in the midst of the room.

"Kvothe," she said quietly, haltingly, "is there- I... your mother's name." Then she held up three fingers. She put one down. She put another down, and I knew what she meant to happen. As she drew a sharp breath in preparation, she put the third one down, and we spoke in unison.

"Laurian."

To Be Continued...