Bury Me in Filkar: Excerpt #1

The Song of the Sellsword

She was of blonde hair and light hazel eyes, with a slender figure formed from a combination of striding down long highways and the emaciation that comes along with the life of an impoverished artist. Despite her features of beauty, her most striking feature was how she made her living; her voice. Angelic and boastful, it was enough to calm even the most volatile of tempers. Frigga watched from a corner booth, the shadow of her cloak hiding her face as she sipped a glass of wine. She observed as the bard sat upon a wooden stool and tuned her lute, plucking gently at the strings until she found the right sound. Linnea took in a deep breath and exhaled, looking up with a bright smile that caught the attention of every man and woman seated on the tavern floor. They looked upon her with envy, such beauty rare within their realm, and both patiently and silently waited for her to begin her song. Her eyes surveyed her crowd as she began, strumming her lute fiercely, starting off with a jig that was well known across the country.

"He spun me a tale of woe,
He said he loved me so,
But I could see right through him...
He said his name was Monroe,
He carried an old crossbow,
And I say his end was quite grim!"

"But it was soon that we had learned,
His reputation was unearned,
And every word of his was a lie!
He boasted and he bragged,
All for drinks and a shag,
And we were soon glad to see him die!"

"One night a true man walked in,
With a longsword and a grin,
Saying he was hunting for a bandit!
The bandit's name was Monroe,
A large debt he did owe,
And the debtor could no longer stand it!"

"The sellsword had come to collect,
And an attitude he would correct,
Leaving with the money or Monroe's head!
Monroe tried shooting first,
His drunk aim just the worst,
And the sellsword struck forth and he sure bled!"

"His head rolled across the floor,
An exhibit of blood and gore,
And the sellsword was met with local fame!
We all bought him a round,
And each drink he did down,
Leaving with another bounty claimed!"

Her song was punctuated with thunderous applause, her response a bow and only a moment before returning to strumming her lute, an interlude into her next song. Frigga was speechless, not once in her life coming across such talent, and truly admired the spirit of the young woman which added even more to her beauty. She envied her and what she saw as true joy and a life fulfilled, adventures had, and continued to listen on, knowing this would be the final night any would hear her songs and stories.

***

She continued to listen on the entire evening, her jigs carrying into the early hours of the morning, when suddenly her rhythm and tune was slowed, the plucking going soft and intimate compared to the previous rowdy tunes. The demeanor of the remaining crowd grew solemn, all deep within their drinks, not expecting what was to come next from Linnea's previously lively and rowdy performance. Several cheers from drunken spectators interrupted the mellow disposition of most in the room, those who whooped catching glares from the others who had picked up the change in tone of the performance. The minstrel kept her eyes on the floor, playing a soft melody, before turning back up to the remaining crowd with the shadow of a smile.

"I greatly appreciate your kindness tonight. It's been quite some time since I've received such a warm and welcoming reception..."

She paused momentarily, looking back to the floor as she gently plucked the strings.