Judd’s jaw was tight. He wanted to tear strips off the minstrel for dragging himself and his companions into the grimy light of Giordi’s conduct, staining Chief Bear who had vouched so strongly for them. He was so angry that he couldn’t begin to fathom where to start without exploding into fury.
“Giordi,” Aalis’ voice was soft and calm, “when we arrived, you said you had never been here before…were you lying?”
Giordi’s shoulders bowed. “What does it matter?”
“It matters to us.” Aalis insisted.
“I should have said, why would you believe me?” Giordi closed his eyes, all confidence and charm gone as he stood before them like a beaten prisoner.
“We are prepared to listen to your side.” Judd ground out from between his teeth. “You owe us that much.”
Giordi sighed and nodded, sinking to the rugs. The others did the same, their eyes never leaving him.
“As I have said before, I left home with my uncle’s lute, a handful of songs in my repertoire and a hole in my pocket. I had such dreams that I would become a celebrated minstrel and for a while I did quite well…at least, I thought I did well. I travelled about the north of Terra with vague success but was told that it was to the south that true fortune and acclaim was just waiting for a talented minstrel like myself.” Giordi gave a half, sad smile. “I should have realised there was as much truth in that statement as there is in the lyrics to my songs.”
He swallowed. “I became so poor and desperate I knew all the pigsties in the town I found myself adrift in, not far from where we caught the ferry to Keenstone Isle. I’d eat whatever I could stomach from the troughs before the pigs could get at it.” He shook his head. “One pigsty…the owners caught me stuffing my face. I thought they’d throw rocks at me but they took sympathy on my pathetic state and gave me a job. Nothing illustrious. Just cleaning tables, washing dishes…playing my lute when I had a rare break in my chores. Lots of travellers passed this tavern on the main road from the south to the north, all the way to Astaril.
One traveller, accompanied by a score of soldiers, stopped at the tavern and heard me play. He started talking to me, praising my talents and saying he wished he was as clever as I.” Giordi closed his eyes. “We traded songs and stories…he was the son of a knight, being sent to Astaril to live with his uncle. Apparently his father did not approve of him.” Giordi huffed. “I was too willing to see him as the misunderstood son of a cruel parent than the spoiled brat he was. He begged to learn how to play the lute and even offered for me to travel with him in order to do so. The tavern owners warned me to steer clear but of course, I knew better. We travelled in a carriage, talking, laughing…and outside of Astaril, he made me an offer…”
Giordi stopped talking, his shoulders bent with the weight of the memory.
“What was the offer, Giordi?” Suvau urged in his deep way.
“To swap places with him. To look at us, we weren’t dissimilar which was probably why he honed in on me in the first place. To a distant uncle, someone he’d never met before in a city where he was known only by name, I was perfect. I would become Haern and he would be Giordi Gavoli.”
“And you agreed?” Caste was horrified.
“I welcomed it.” Giordi admitted. “I couldn’t see past a warm bed and a full belly. He taught me all the essentials of being him and I had shown him how to play the lute. So we traded lives and I went to live with Bancroft in Astaril, a distant and disapproving uncle who was determined to refine his wild nephew and Haern left under the guise of being Giordi Gavoli.”
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He cringed in the silence, feeling their disapproving and judgemental glares.
“Bancroft wasn’t a bad sort and I was so determined not to make waves and expose myself that I deeply impressed him with my behaviour and attention to my studies. And once I got over my initial terror of being discovered, I loved every minute of it. The fine clothes, the good food…the manners, the comportment...I began to think maybe I could stay in that life forever,” Giordi shook his head, “but about six months after we switched places, Haern turned up in the middle of the night. Without a word of explanation he tossed me out of the house with my lute and when I tried to return, I found there were guards in place who had been given specific orders not only to keep me away, but to drive me out of Astaril. Goodness knows how he explained it all to his uncle. It might have all been fudged over to attempt to save face. I honestly don’t know. That life was cut off from me. So I left, confused and betrayed. I still had my lute so I decided, after feeling sorry for myself, that I would do as I originally intended and be a minstrel…however, as I travelled throughout Terra, I began to realise just how foolish I had been.” Giordi licked his lips. “It seems that Haern had not wasted a single second. From the moment he left me, he began to bed every willing female, using the guise as a minstrel to move from town to town when the attention began to sour. All over Terra, he used the name of Giordi Gavoli to seduce and purposefully deflower young women…”
Giordi’s heart was very heavy in his chest. He had steeled himself away from receiving any kind of sympathy or kindness. He did not deserve it. He probably wouldn’t receive it if it was given.
“The truth is…I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen…a reckoning of my foolish choice and his reckless and vile behaviour. I never imagined even with all of his charm, that Haern would have wormed his way into the graces of these nomads. Strangely enough, I thought I’d be safe here from the repercussions of his actions…yet it seems that here I will stay forever.”
How he hated himself. Every word, every truth…the foolishness of his existence laid bare before those he claimed to be friends. All for a hot meal and a warm bed…truly, he was as shallow as he was foolish.
“I don’t understand,” Giordi looked up timidly at Yolana, “this young woman, Revna…surely she must realise you are not the same man.”
“I think Haern’s usual ‘tricks’ did not work with Revna…he may well have forced himself upon her as I suspect I am being accused of.” Giordi shuddered.
“Still,” Suvau argued, “she must know.”
“If she does, she has not said.” Giordi looked at Judd who was staring at the ground, his brow in a deep furrow. “Say something Judd…please…anything. I don’t care if you condemn me or berate me or throw me out…could you just say something?”
Judd stood up, hands into fists and turned his back. Giordi closed his eyes, feeling the sting of being disowned.
“Haern…” Caste said softly. “Bancroft…the son of a knight…”
“Egrette’s son.” Judd tilted his head back, speaking for the first time. “Sir Egrette asked me to visit his wayward son if I ever found myself back in Astaril…” He turned to Giordi who eyed Judd fearfully. “That…bastard that joked about not knowing where to put Aalis, in the kitchen or the bedroom, raised a son just like him…who did this…”
“No Judd,” Giordi stood up, rapping his fist on his chest, “I did this. This…is my fault. If I hadn’t given Haern my name, my occupation…he would have been under his uncle’s thumb in Astaril. I didn’t sleep with Revna…but I am responsible for her condition.” He closed his eyes. “It’s time I paid my dues.”
“So…that’s it?” Verne argued. “That’s…you’re just going to stay here, forever?”
“That’s the deal.”
“That or being punished according to this clan’s nomadic law.” Caste added.
Giordi paled. “I…I really…don’t like…pain.”
“You’re going to get married because you’re a coward? Making another bad decision to cover the first bad decision?”
“Verne!” Judd barked and Verne clamped his lips shut. Judd breathed in and out slowly. “Giordi,” he said quietly, “if you choose to do this…we’ll support you.”
Giordi’s jaw quivered. He turned aside. “I think I’d prefer for you to hate me…it’d make it so much easier when you leave me behind.” Tears trickled down his face when Judd clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Seriously…hate me a little…”
