The Tale Teller

Ch 15

 "You."

The bard grinned in a way where his lip pulled back to reveal a line of perfectly straight teeth. It looked like a snarl, though his eyes shifted to become light and dancing, as though he was on a stage about to sing one of his songs. Even bent over and locked into place in stocks, he was still the same person Vaun remembered.

"I should not be surprised to see you, dear Tale-Teller. Most go south for the winter after all, hm?" He spoke it like a passing greeting, a polite word between two men where one of them was not in the stocks. Vaun could have laughed had he the energy to. He did muster up a small quirking of lips though.

"I should say the same." He gave a nod to the wooden structure and the position both the bard and his fellow prisoner were in. The flicker of a smile stayed in place.

"This pleases you."

Vaun gave his one shouldered shrug. It did please him. After the attitude the bard had shown him in Cragbarrow and the song that had upset the town, Vaun couldn't help but feel an amusement of sorts.

"What did you do?" The question was eating away at him, for surely the bard wasn't here to simply rest his neck and wrists.

"I did what any man like you or I would." He pulled that same snarling smile again, eyes lighting up as he did so. "I sang my songs so sweetly and played my instrument well. But I also sang a different kind of song, one of seduction, and let the women play upon a different kind of instrument. They didn't like that."

After what Vaun had just witnessed in Darkharbour, he doubted the guards and the merchants did.

"I fucked the whores, the maidens, even the mothers with bellies swelled from another's seed. I fucked them all, and I enjoyed it." His expression showed no remorse, no guilt. The words rang like a melody. "And so here I stand, awaiting my death."

"Death?" Vaun knew it was coming but he still asked, for if anyone knew of any more information, it would be the bard.

"I'm not worthy of this world, and so I must be sacrificed to the Gods." With this, Vaun saw the flicker of snark. He believed in this religion just as much as Vaun did. It was the biggest surprise Vaun had experienced all day.

He didn't expect a bard who sang songs of the new religion to not even believe in it, but perhaps the man had been converted like Corum, or had a secret agenda that Vaun couldn't begin to guess.

Leaning over, he placed on hand on the wood between the bard's head and his left hand, taking the weight off his feet and onto one hip. It was a laid-back pose, disrespectful to the man in the stocks, but there was no reason for Vaun to care. Should someone ask, like a guard, he could easily watch with joy as the bard's blood ran cold when he claimed the man had fucked his make-believe wife as hard as the rest of his women.

"Maybe you should tell me more about these Gods?"

The bard gave a huff of a laugh. "Could have asked me that in Cragbarrow. Ah, but your eyes were too focused on the blonde, hm? You of all men can't stand here and judge, we're the same you and I."

In one sharp motion, Vaun swung his left hand to grab the bard's chin, roughly shoving it up until the man choked back a cough. His head was pushed back, throat exposed. His eyes locked with Vaun's and he took great pride in the flicker of fear visible. He had never seen the arrogant bard scared before, but oh did it feel good. When so helpless and frightened himself, it was nice to have some control for a change and to be in a position of power.

"I'm nothing like you." Vaun made sure to dip to the bard's level, hissing the words into his face.

He had never put on a glamorous show, demanded to be praised and worshipped, and he had never travelled the lands riding more women than horses. The only thing he had in common with this man was the news they told.