expression. "Did you bring any of those honey muffins?"
'Yes."
The teenager had already located one and stuffed it into her mouth, then pulled out the sticky mass and looked at it in annoyance. "Ick. I told you not to put currants in them; it ruins the flavor."
'I didn't. That must be something from the ground, a beetle, perhaps." Rhapsody laughed as Jo spat, then hurled the partially masticated muffin into the canyon below.
'So where's Ashe?" Jo asked as she sat cross-legged on the ground, picking UP
another muffin and brushing it off carefully.
'He should be here in half an hour or so," Rhapsody answered, sorting through her satchel. "J wanted to see you alone for a little while before we leave."
Jo nodded, her mouth full. "Grnmuthor um Achmmegd are commiddg, too?"
'Yes, I expect them shortly, although I had a hostile exchange with Achmed earlier, so perhaps he won't bother."
'Why would that stop him? That's normal conversation for Achmed. What was his problem this morning?"
'Oh, we just had an argument over a Cymrian manuscript he slipped under my door last night."
Jo swallowed and poured herself a mug of tea. "No wonder; you know how much he hates the Dum-rians."
Rhapsody hid her smile. Since the Cymrians had come from Serendair, their homeland, she, Grunthor, and even Achmed were technically Cymrians themselves, a fact she had not been allowed to share with Jo. "Why do you think that?"
'I heard him talking to Grunthor a few nights back."
'Oh?"
Jo leaned back importantly. "He said that you had your head wedged up your arse."
Rhapsody grinned. "Really?"
'Yes. He said the dragon probably had a Cymrian agenda, because she was the one who invited the arse-rags here in the first place to please her lover—that's what he called them: arse-rags."
'Yes, I believe I've heard him use that word about them myself."
'He also said that you were trying to find out more about the Cymrians, to help bring them back into power, and that it was stupid. He thinks the Bolg are much more worthy of your time and attention, not to mention your loyalty. Is that true?"
'About the Bolg?"
'No, about the Cymrians."
Rhapsody looked off at the eastern horizon. The sky at the very edge of the land was beginning to lighten to the faintest shade of cobalt blue; otherwise the coming of foredawn was still indiscernible. Her face flushed in the darkness as she thought back to Llauron, the gentle, elderly Invoker of the Filids, the religious order of the western forest lands and some of the provinces of Roland.
Llauron had taken her in not long after the three of them had arrived, had made her welcome. He had taught her the history of the land, as well as many useful things that were now helping Achmed build his empire, among them planting lore, herbalism, and the healing of men and animals. His voice nagged in her head now, expecting information and solutions to problems she didn't understand.
Now that you've learned about the Cymrians, and the growing unrest that threatens to sunder this land again, I hope you will agree to help me by being my eyes and ears out in the world, and report back what you see.
I'll be glad to help you, Llauron, but —
Good, good. And remember, Rhapsody, though you are a commoner, you can still be useful in a royal cause.
I don't understand.
'I lauron's eyes had glinted with impatience, though his voice was soothing. Th reunificati°n of the Cymrains. I thought I had been clear. In my view, noth-isfloing to spare us from ultimate destruction, with these unexplained upris-• und acts of terror, except to reunite the Cymrian factions, Roland and Sorbold, and possibly even the Bolglands, again, under a new Lord and Lady. The time is almost here.
And though you are a peasant — please don't take offense, most of my following are peasants — -you have a pretty face and a, persuasive voice. You could be of great assistance to me in bringing this about. Now, please, say you will do as I've asked.
Tou do