"And, exactly who do you think I am, boy?" The Hound's question was threatening.
"Please, brother, my apologies. You're a good man of the Faith, whose face I've never seen. Let me go, and I swear I'll never tell her I found you."
"You think it's her I'm hiding from?" He barked a laugh. "Found me! Like I'm some lost puppy she's been searching for."
"She has been searching. That is why she composed the song, and gave me the money, and offered me the reward . . . ," the singer mumbled to his boots.
"What money? What reward?" He shook the boy, whose response was a stutter, "Well, she paid for my passage to Westeros and gave me coin enough for return passage across the Narrow Sea for two men. If I succeed in reuniting you, she has offered me a songbook of 20 of her songs that have never been sung." And then, he saw desire in singer's eyes, "Oh, a man could make a career on what's in that book, I'd wager. Did you see their faces tonight? New songs, new women, new coin . . . ".
"And, what makes you think that I'm the man she seeks?"
"She said that the right man would find me. He'd ask me where I'd learned the song and likely try to kill me."
The Hound dropped the young dreamer. The girl's judgment of his character was spot on. He inhaled slowly, "So, where can I find this Fiery Mermaid?"
"Lorath. . . . l could take you to her, brother, if you wish. She gave me the money for the passage."
"Aye. You said that. Do you know why she is seeking me out?"
"I do not. But, I suppose . . ."
"Don't ever suppose, boy. Supposing is dangerous. Go fetch your belongings while I get the rest of my wine for the road. No one will be begging for any more tonight songs from a boy with wet breeches and a bloody neck."
The men rode double into the silent night to collect the gravedigger's belongings from the Quiet Isle. The boy offered that his name was Wenton, but the Hound just grunted, never bothering to ask if that was a first name or a family name.
The Hound made quick business of packing up his few belongings, stopping first at the sept, then his small room. "Wash up and put this on." The Hound commanded, handing over a brown novice robe, "You've taken a vow of silence. Meet me at the stable when you're done." He left to collect his a small pack from the stable, and the men set off to find a ship.
For the most of the journey across the sea, neither man spoke a word. The young singer had such sea sickness he could barely raise his head. The Hound spent most of his time tending his horse in the ship's hold. He kept his hood up and his face covered with his scarf the whole journey. In the silence, with no wineskin to hide in, his mind was not quiet. Why is she seeking me? What the hell did that song mean? Is this a jape?
He decided that the song was the girl's way of finding him without revealing herself or him. Clever little bird. He accepted that she hadn't come with him because he had scared her, and for once, he didn't blame his face. He resolved to try to control himself, his urges, his temper, and his sharp, loose tongue. He had worked on those things with the Elder Brother's help, but could use more practice. He would offer her his sword, beg her, if necessary, to accept his service. What then? Bring her home to Westeros? Watch her marry another? Ask for her hand myself? The last thoughts made his head swim.
It had been so long since he'd seen her. He had changed so much, and he wondered how she had changed. Of course she would be more beautiful. Is she truly still a maiden? Why should I even wonder about her maidenhood? I told the little wolf-bitch I should have taken it, but I just wanted her to get angry enough to kill me. It was no true confession. Was it? He knew that he couldn't have enjoyed hurting her, but even now he knew he would have enjoyed having her if she would have consented, and that still brought him shame.
He heard the Elder Brother's counsel in his mind, "The Hound is dead and all his sins, shames, and hurts all died with him. You are reborn, and this new life is your gift from the Mother. Use this second chance, this new life, for good. Pray to the Mother to help you become the kind of man your own Lady mother would have been proud of." He decided that at this point his best prayer would be that Wenton never mention that mess with the dagger behind the winesink.
"We make port tomorrow, boy."
The singer nodded, scared to respond. "It's alright. No one's listening to us, they're all too busy readying the ship. Tell me about her."
The boy tried to speak, but his voice crackled from such a long lack of use. The Hound handed over his own waterskin. "Thank you, brother," he croaked. "What would you like to know?"
"Everything you know. Or can you only sing songs that others have written for you?" He said it without thinking, and chastised himself for not practicing choosing his words.
Ignoring the insult, Wenton answered, "Well. She is beautiful, and she is desired by most every man in Lorath. Men, including the wealthy and the powerful, have proposed marriage, but she has rejected them all. She trusts no one, and doesn't encourage any man's affections. She is elusive, mysterious, and the highest paid singer in the history of the Free Cities."
Admiration filled the boy's voice and eyes as he continued, "Her performances are understated, no introductions, no explanations, just song. Most of her own original songs are sad, and it is said that her voice has made men cry after a single note. One of her most requested songs is "The Love of Asnas and Rodnas," in which girl whose cries into the sea each night, praying her tears will reach her lost lover on the other side. Commoners in love! Brilliant!"
The Hound simply said, "Go on. "
"My favorite song of hers is a bit naughty. It's about a huntsman who finds an injured maiden alone in the woods in a storm. He wipes her blood with his handkerchief and gives her his muddy cloak to keep her dry. He returns her safely to her home, where in a fortnight she is to be married to a high Lord. On the day of the wedding, she tucks the handkerchief into her dress to hold at her heart as she is married. After the wedding and bedding, the bride sneaks to her wardrobe, naked! She puts on nothing but the huntsman's dirty cloak and prefers it to the golden cloak her husband placed on her shoulders! Oh, how people cheer that one, impossible as it is! I mean, no woman would truly prefer a rough huntsman over a high Lord! Some have taken it to have another meaning, that the blood on the handkerchief symbolizes her maiden's blood on the bed sheets, and that what she really wished was that the huntsman would have. . . ."
The boy winked but was met with a flat, "I get the meaning. Go on."
"Her most exciting song is a blending of historical figures and events in which a queen falls secretly in love with the king's most loyal guard. The king goes mad and asks the guard to brave a pit of green dragon's fire to prove his loyalty. When the guard hesitates, the king pushes him into the pit. The forlorn queen poisons the king's wine to rid the kingdom of his madness, but she feels she will take no pleasure in life without the guard. So, she drinks the poison remaining in the King's cup and dies! So tragic! Genius! Is it not?"
He just stared at the singer.
The excited boy needed no further encouragement. "Such talent! That's why she's drowning in coin! Her rooms are well-furnished and overlook the sea. Her dresses and jewelry are of the finest quality, though I'd venture most were gifts. She keeps two serving girls and a large guardsman. The girls are young and pretty. While I was there, one let me touch . . . . ah, that part doesn't matter. "
"Tell me about the guard."
"Oh. He frightens me. He is a young sellsword, an imposing figure, as tall as you, but young, strong, and swift. He is her constant companion and the only person with whom she regularly dines. He appears to be loyal and quite devoted to her service, though serving girls claim he is secretly in love with her. The say that once, when she took ill, he slept on the floor in hall outside her bedroom door for many nights, even though both serving girls were already attending her inside the room."
He didn't know why, but the Hound thought that to be very bad news.