SquidgeWorld Archive

Caging the Song Bard
Prologue

When Christopher, called Kit by his friends, first found Rose, she was an abused scullery wench at a poor country inn. She had very white hair and blue eyes with oval centers resembling a cat's. Christopher had chosen her to feed from. Due to her low position, her life wasn't expected to be a long or happy one, and her death from his feeding would be much gentler than what she could expect from a beating, a sickness, or childbirth.

But after a few weeks, Rose didn't show any signs of getting sick. She) was in fact getting stronger, and she seemed to replenish the stolen blood much faster than was normal for a human. Kit's curiosity was piqued. Experimenting, he fed her some of his own blood. If she was going to start changing into a vampire at all, that would cause it immediately. His blood had no effect on her.

Kit decided to keep the girl for his own. Having someone he could feed from that wouldn't need to be killed when they started turning would be invaluable. He lured her away from the inn by promising her a respectable housekeeping position in his home. Everyone including the girl expected he really wanted her to keep his bed warm, but it was still better then where she was and she accepted his offer eagerly.

When they got to his home, he told Rose the truth about what he was and what he'd discovered about her. Rose was an extremely sensible child and accepted her fate with as much courage as she could. It didn't take her long to figure out that she was much better off than before. Having Kit take a little of her blood every few days was a small price to pay for what she gained. She did do his housekeeping, for in her opinion after she'd seen his home he desperately needed one, but she didn't share his bed and that was okay with both of them. Kit treated Rose well and by doing so gained a loyal servant and, to his surprise, a friend.

Maggie, who was one of the more senior and powerful vampires around, saw it as being in her own best interest to keep the peace amongst her kind. When two years later she found out about Rose, she knew that when other vampires found out about her there would be a demand for more of the same. She wouldn't mind having one herself. But taking Rose away from Kit seemed like a very bad precedent to set. So she and her companion Jacob set out to look for more like Rose, if there were any to find.

Part one
Finding the Song Bird

"I'm getting too old for this," Thomas thought to himself as he trudged down the dusty road. He could see an inn just up ahead. If he was lucky, the small inn wouldn't have had a musician in for some time. If he was very lucky the innkeeper would let him stay for a week or two. But he and lady luck didn't seem to be on speaking terms lately.

The last few months had been rough for the journeyman musician. Though taverns and drinking houses dotted the countryside like flies on a cow patty, jobs were scarce this time of year. The country folk were busy bringing in their crops and preparing their homes for the coming winter. No one had the time or energy to spend an evening at the tavern. The harvest fairs wouldn't start for another couple of weeks.

He'd been hoping to secure a place for the winter in Hansford. Rumor had it that the Gilded Stine was looking for a permanent house musician. Though he set out for Hanford as quickly as he could, he'd been a day late. Peter Tuppins, his long time rival, had gotten there before him and had gloated when he told him. Before he could bust Peter's nose, he picked up his bags and took off down the road, hoping for better luck at the next tavern.

The taverns and inns that he had been playing in had few patrons in the evenings, and most of the customers who were there didn't have more than a few cracked pennies to toss into his hat. It was lucky for Thomas that custom allowed him to sleep inside with the rest of the inn's workers if he'd worked there that evening. Granted, it was usually on the floor farthest from the fire, but it was better than the cold ground outside.

Also, as if his luck hadn't been bad enough, last week he'd been robbed. He had been ambushed on the road. The thieves had relieved him of the few copper coins he'd had, they left him with a fair sized lump on the back of his head. Fortunately, they hadn't damaged his mandolin or his hands.

^^^**(*)***^^^

Maggie and Jacob pulled their gypsy wagon behind the one and only tavern in the village of Stonebridge. The lively music and yellow pools of light coming from the windows of the small building were a welcome beckon to weary travelers.

But had they finally caught up with their quarry?

Investigating rumors of children with white hair and funny eyes, they had found the musician's two bastard children, from two different mothers. Having made arrangements to come back for the children they went looking for their father.

Maggie and Jacob had spent a week following Thomas's trail only to arrive in the towns and villages to find out that the minstrel had just left. Such was the way with wandering journeymen minstrels: they wandered. Since they hadn't been able to catch up to him at night, getting someone to drive the wagon during the day had seemed the best solution. But because they had no intention of trusting their safety to someone who wasn't completely under their control, they carefully chose someone who wouldn't be missed. They woke up William, their day time driver who had been napping in the back of the wagon and sent him in to get his dinner before going into the tavern themselves.

When they paid the innkeeper,) they asked him about the musician. "He wondered in this afternoon looking for work." The portly innkeeper told them, glancing at the red headed musician playing at the other end of the room. "I told him he was welcome to play here tonight but not to expect much this time of year. He said his name is Thomas something. I was rather busy when he came in and don't remember what he said his last name was." There was something predatory in the look the pair exchanged that the innkeeper didn't much like, but it was none of his business, so he went back to work.

Thomas, who was busy playing for his supper on the far side of the room, didn't see them come in. Not that it would have made any difference.

A little while later, sitting at a table furthest from the fire, Jacob questioned his companion. "Maggie, is he or isn't he. He has red hair. The others have all had white hair." Jacob was keeping his voice low. It was probably unnecessary to whisper though, since the rest of the inn's patrons were merrily chatting, drinking, or singing bawdy songs with Thomas.

"But he has the same blue cat slit eyes," Maggie insisted. She was older than Jacob. She trusted her intuition, and her intuition told her that this man was just what they had been looking for.

"We need to know before we can make any plans." Jacob insisted.

"We can test him first." Maggie said to please her companion, she was already sure the man would be unaffected by their bite.

"Okay, so, which one of us gets to bite him and how long shall we wait to see if he's not affected?" Jacob asked.

"We don't need to bite him; all we need to do is feed him some of our blood. If it has any affect at all it will show in the next two nights."

"How are we going to do that?"

"I'm sure you will think of something," Maggie said. They both sat for a while, watching the man and listening to the music. He played the mandolin as well as any Maggie had heard, and his tenor voice went well with the songs and ballads he sang. He kept his audience entertained with a mix of lively music and rowdy drinking tunes that invited his audience to sing along. "He really is quite good isn't he?"

"Yes he is," Jacob said, "And that might be a problem in itself. Have you thought about what we are going to do with him if he is immune? He's not a child we can buy from a poor mother or an abused serving girl you can bribe with a better life. How are we going to get him to submit to being a servant without using so much energy as to not make it worth the effort?"

"I've been thinking about that."

"Here is something else to think about, if he lives and can be persuaded to cooperate, who are you going to give him to? It's going to be ten years or more before any of the children we have found so far are old enough to be useful. Who can you send him to without others of our kind getting in a snit?"

"I've been thinking about that too. And I think I have the answer to both questions with one answer."

^^^(*)^^^

It was late when Thomas finished his last tune for the evening. The inn's customers had gone home to seek their beds, and he was ready for his. He packed up his mandolin and unrolled his blanket on the floor near the fireplace. There was just one thing he needed to do first.

Maggie and Jacob saw the man leaving the tavern and head for the bushes behind the building. They knew it was as good an opportunity as they were likely to get. They quickly followed him out into the dark.

When Thomas had retied his britches and turned to go back into the pub, Maggie smacked him hard on the back of his head. As he fell forward, Jacob hit him in the face, causing his nose to bleed. The blows didn't quite knock him out, but they did confuse him long enough for Maggie to push her bleeding wrist into his mouth and stroke his throat to make sure he swallowed. What didn't get swallowed got smeared with the rest of the blood coming from his nose. They cut the strings to his pouch but left if beside him, as though his assailants had been scared away before they could finish robbing him.

When Thomas regained his senses, he saw a pretty red headed woman and a blond man with a curly mustache bending over him. The couple said they had just found him laying there on the ground and had been afraid he might have been dead. He was grateful for their help as they got him up and back inside the inn where the barmaids made a great fuss over taking care of him.

Maggie and Jacob retired from the inn for the day and prepared to wait to see what their meddling would do. On the way back to their wagon Jacob had a thought, "You know Maggie, if he isn't immune himself but only passing the gift to his children we've just made sure he won't be having any more of them."

Maggie thumped Jacob on the back of the head, "Now you think of that," she said.

Their gypsy style wagon was parked behind the inn, along with a couple of wagons belonging to the local merchants and farmers. It wasn't uncommon for inns and taverns to rent parking space to people while they did business elsewhere, so Maggie and Jacob were not worried about anyone bothering them as they slept. They had a stout lock on the inside of the door and William awake and about to guard it. Their last precaution was that their actual sleeping space was hidden under a false floor in the wagon. They had traveled around in such wagons for many years and rarely had any trouble. The few times they had had trouble the thieves had not survived.

William was sleeping in the public bed of the wagon, having gone to sleep after getting his dinner from the inn. He'd been having the most wonderful and disturbing dreams since he hired on to drive for the eccentric couple. He dreamed of the woman crawling into bed with him and letting him fondle her breast, then the man would join them, pressing against his back until he could feel the other mans arousal. What bothered him about the dreams was that they didn't bother him. In his dreams, he eagerly allowed them to do whatever they wanted to do to him, but in the morning he could never remember any details. But they were polite to him and were paying him well for easy work, so he didn't worry about it.

^^^(*)^^^

Three nights later, Thomas wasn't the least bit sick, even the bump on the back of his head seemed to have gone away faster than expected.

^^^(*)^^^

Maggie and Thomas had no way of knowing that hitting Thomas on the head and faking a robbery would work so well in their favor. They could not have known it was the second time that month the man had been robbed, but it sure put the topper on Thomas's desire to get off the road for good.

They invited Thomas to drink with them a few nights later. They kept his cup full and he drank much more than he normally did. Well into his cups, he answered their seemingly random questions. The wine really affected Thomas's head. He grew maudlin and whined on to them about how he was tired of the constant travel and he complained about the hazards of being a wandering player and not knowing where your next meal might be coming from, and he was twenty seven years old and he should settle in one place. He complained about how hard it was to get a steady gig, how you had to know someone who knew someone to get such a job and how he was only a poor wandering player and didn't have any connections, and on and on and on. He had defiantly had too much to drink if he was pouring his woes out to near strangers. Soon his head felt really heavy and he thought he'd just rest it on the table for a minute or so, but maybe closing his eyes wasn't such a good idea.

After Thomas passed out with his head on the table, Maggie and Joseph could only look at each other and laugh. It was perfect!

^^^(*)^^^

The next evening, nursing a hellish hangover, Thomas greeted the couple he'd drunk with the night before. He was a bit miffed that neither of them seemed the least bit hung over, but he quickly forgave them when they told him they knew the owner of a large tavern in Appleby, just a few days walk away. They would be happy to give him a letter of introduction if he wanted it.

Along with the letter of introduction, the woman gave him a sealed letter with instructions to only give it to the owner, Simon Ringwell. They also warned him that the man would only be there in the evenings.

Appleby was not far outside Thomas's usual territory. He had heard of the Cat & the Fiddle Tavern, he'd just never gotten to it yet. He was eager to check it out. If he was lucky he would have a
position before winter.

Part 2
Be careful what you wish for?

Two days later Thomas stood outside looking at the sign for The Cat & the Fiddle Tavern and Inn. The setting sun shined on the painted yellow tabby cat getting ready to pounce on a fiddle. He had his letters for the owner tucked inside his tunic and his pack and his precious mandolin on his back. Taking a deep breath for courage, he went in through open door.

The tavern was already busy with at least two barmaids running between the large kitchen, the bar, and the tables. The smell of fresh baked bread wafted out of the kitchen and made Thomas's mouth water. The place was brightly lit with lanterns that sat on the long tables and more that hung from the ceiling. A huge rock fireplace took up the entire back wall of the large drinking hall.

A barmaid with bright blond hair and her chemise pulled low on her bosom spotted him standing by in the door with his mandolin and his packs. With a friendly smile she sauntered over to him. "Oh, have you come to play for us tonight minstrel?" she asked him.

"I have if you'll have me," he gave her his best smile, "But I probably should talk to the owner first."

"He's not in yet." She looked out the door noting the setting sun and said, "Should be here soon though, if you want to wait." Thomas found a seat near the door where he could watch the room and wait for the owner. The blond barmaid brought him over a cool mug of cider. "On the house." She said with a wink and leaned over giving him a clear view of her breast as she set it on the table.

The Cat & the Fiddle Tavern and Inn was just inside the city limits, it was well-located for travelers just arriving or preparing to leave the city. It also attracted plenty of locals who stopped in after their day's labor for supper and a pint before going home. Thomas watched the people come and go, thinking that this could be a good place for him. He liked the atmosphere. He hoped he could convince the owner to let him stay.

Thomas would never have thought the pale well-dressed young man with long chestnut hair tied in a tail down his back would be the owner. But he saw the barmaid directed him to Thomas's table. Thomas was just a little taller than average, but when he stood up he was a whole head taller than the man in front of him.

"Annie tells me you want to play for us tonight?"

"You're the owner?" Thomas asked his surprise clear in his voice. He winced at how rude he sounded. "Please forgive me, I was expecting someone older"

"Nothing to forgive, I'm used to it, it happens all the time." The man said. "I'm Simon Ringwell, and I own of this fine establishment. And you are

"My name is Thomas Walker, Journeyman Musician. I would be honored if you'd allow me to practice my craft here tonight. I also have a letter of introduction, and another letter that I was instructed to give to you and no one else."

Thomas handed over the two sealed letters that Maggie had given him. Simon looked curiously at them. His eyebrows rose a little when he saw who they were from. "Thank you. I read these immediately. You are welcome to play here tonight. The house will only take a 25 percent cut of course."

Thomas had been expecting that. "10 percent"

"20"

"15"

"Done"

"Done." They shook hands, and Simon waved over the blond woman he had talked to earlier. "Annie can show you where to stash your bags, and you can stop in the kitchen for some dinner before you start."

Thomas hid his bags where Annie showed him in a niche behind the bar and then took him to the kitchen and introduced him to the cook, a kind older woman who scooped him up a bowl of stew and huge chunk of the newly bake bread and sent him out of her kitchen to eat it. When he was done eating he retrieved his mandolin, gave it a quick tuning and went to work.

^^^(*)^^^

It was a good evening. Thomas had enjoyed himself and the customers had been generous with their coins. It was well after midnight when the barkeeper and the waitresses pushed the last merrymakers out the door so they could close. He was quite pleased; he'd made quite a few coins tonight, even after the tavern's cut. If the owner didn't want a regular musician, maybe he could stay just for the winter. He could also look for other inns and taverns in the area that were willing to let him play every few nights.

The staff was finishing their closing chores and drifting off to their beds. Thomas was about to unroll his blanket near the when Simon appeared and beckoned for Thomas to follow him into one of the back rooms. He was a bit surprised, as he had not expected to see the man until the next evening.

Smothering a yawn, Thomas followed Simon to a small office tucked behind the taverns kitchen. Bees wax candles set in sconces on the wall provided light and gently scented the air. A big desk stood in the middle of the room, leaving little space for anything but the two chairs that filled the rest of it. His letter was open in the middle of the desk. Simon took his chair behind the desk, and Thomas remained standing until Simon asked him to sit.

"Maggie's letter says that you are looking for a permanent position. That you would like to settle in one place and get of the road."

"That's true sir, the wandering life if starting to loose its appeal."

"Maggie has good timing and instincts about people. My house musician quit just two weeks ago. He went to go teach at the conservatory. Maggie seems to think that you and I would work well together."

"Was I good enough for you tonight?"

"You did very well. Any tavern would be happy to have you. I would have been tempted to offer you the position even without Maggie's letter."

Relieved, Thomas smiled, "Then can I consider myself employed sir?"

"You can. But there is more in this letter than just you playing music in the bar, Master Thomas. If what Maggie's letter says is true, and I have no reason to doubt her, then you and I shall be getting to know each other very well. And she has given to me a great gift." Simon paused, seeming lost in thought for a moment. His next word seemed to be spoken more to himself then to Thomas. "Maggie's right though, this could work very well for both of us. There are few others of us with which you could be content with."

Thomas was confused by that very cryptic remark. "What are you talking about?"

"Where shall I start?" Simon looked up at the ceiling, planning what to say next. "According to her letter, a few years ago a friend of hers discovered of a very unique young woman. Since then she and Jacob have been searching for more humans like her. By tracing the girl's family they found a few more and from those few they found you."

Confused Thomas asked. "What's that got to do with me getting the job?"

"It has nothing and everything to do with you getting the job. You have the same gift that the girl has. And it will be a very valuable gift to me."

"What gift might that be, and how do you know?"

"Maggie says it is your eyes that mark you as being immune to our bite. And just to make sure Jacob and Maggie tested you before sending you to me. Had you not been immune you would be dead."

"Immune? Tested? What are you talking about?" Thomas was getting confused and a bit nervous at the intense way Simon looked at him. He didn't like people noticing his eyes; he'd beat the hell out of more than one childhood bully for teasing him about them. Maybe it would be best if he left now. But he really wanted the job.

"Maggie tested your immunity by feeding you some of her blood. It had no effect on you. Except for you and the few like you, humans will start changing after we feed from them. Unless someone is deliberately being turned, we don't allow the change to be completed."

Thomas wanted to laugh. This was some cruel joke being played on him, only it wasn't funny and he'd had enough. "Well thank you for talking with me but I think I'll be leaving now." Thomas started to stand up, intending to get out the door and far away as fast as he could.

"Sit down. You won't make it out the door if you try." The chilling certainty of Simon's voice made him freeze half way out of the chair. He sat back down, beginning to fear for his life, and stared at the man sitting on the other side of the desk. He saw two long, sharp fangs slide into full view from behind the man's regular teeth. Fear swept through Thomas all the way to his finger tips and held him still, unable to look away when he recognized what he was seeing. Several tense minutes passed. When Simon made no attempt to reach for him, Thomas forced himself to ask," What do you want from me?" though he was sure he wasn't going to like the answer.

"To drink from, of course." Simon had a slight lisp from talking around his fangs. Simon let his fangs slowly retreat back up onto the hidden pockets in the roof of his mouth. "You won't get sick like a normal humans do, and I won't have to kill you."

"Except if you drain me dry!"

"That wouldn't do me much good would it?" Simon said, "I won't drain you. You're of no value dead. I plan to have you around for a long time. And from what Maggie says of the first woman they found, your blood will renew itself much faster than normal humans."

"Whether I like it or not?"

"This can work for you too Thomas. It's what you wanted: a respectable and profitable position as the resident musician in a successful tavern with all of the perks that go with it."

"But I will be a prisoner."

"I don't keep prisoners, Thomas. But there are others of my kind that don't mind keeping prisoners locked up in their cellar. If you don't stay here with me, and don't try to leave or tell anyone what you know about me, you will be free to do as you please. Plus with me, you will be under my protection. And you can trust that no one will challenge me for you and win."

"As long as I let you drink form me whenever you want to?"

"To be blunt, yes. You will be here for me to feed on whenever I please."

"No. Let me go. I won't cooperate. I don't want this."

Simon was not unsympathetic, but he wasn't going to let Thomas go either. "I'm sorry. I won't do that."

Thomas was moving before he could think about it; he knew that he had to try. He bolted for the door, tipping over the chair in the process. Simon was there before him. He shoved him back into the room, and he fell over the tipped chair. Thomas narrowly missed hitting his head on the corner of the desk. He landed hard on his back on the floor and before he could roll away Simon was on him, pinning him to the ground.

Despite Tom being the larger of the two, he couldn't shove the vampire off. "You had to test me didn't you?" Simon's voice was dangerously close to his ear, "It's okay, I'd probably have done the same. But do you see? You can't win."

"What's to keep me from plunging a wooden stake into your heart during the day?" He asked still trying to get away.

"It's not that easy. I don't suggest you try. I'm a very light sleeper." The scary part was that he sounded amused and completely sincere rather than angry. Simon's fangs were visible in the flickering candlelight. With one hand, he pulled open the collar of Tomas's shirt, baring his neck. Before Thomas could say anything more, Simon went for his neck. The twin sharp points stopped above his collar bone, just touching the skin. Panic rushed through Thomas, and again he tried to push the small, lighter man off of him. Though he did manage to roll them over a few times, he was unable to push the smaller man away.

It was only after he was out of breath and too weary to keep fighting that he realized that not once during the entire struggle had Simon's fangs left his neck or punctured his skin. Thomas lay helpless and tense with anticipation under his captor.

"Are you done?" Simon asked him calmly. He didn't answer. Tomas closed his eyes and waited every muscle in his body tight with expected pain. He heard Simon whisper in his ear, "If you don't want this to hurt like hell, I suggest you try to relax." With no further warning Simon sank his fangs into Thomas's neck with one swift painful jab. Pride kept him from screaming after his first involuntary cry. He tried to relax like Simon suggested, but he could feel the wound throbbing as Simon drank his blood.

When the blood stopped flowing freely, Simon licked the wound clean and wiped his mouth. Gracefully he rose to his feet and held his hand out to help Thomas up off the floor. For a long moment Thomas simply glared at the vampire, ignoring the offered hand. Somehow he realized that Simon's offer of a hand up was a simple courtesy. There was no malice or contempt connected to it. Eventually, he took the offered hand and let Simon pull him to his feet. He felt a little light headed, and his neck hurt, but over all he didn't feel as bad as he expected.

Snuffing out all the candles except the one he carried, Simon waited for Thomas to follow him. Thomas followed, too exhausted to do anything else. They went through the dark tavern and up a flight of stairs to the rooms above the tavern. Simon led him to a room at the end of the short hall. As he handed him the candle, he said, "This can work to both of our advantages if you'll give it a chance. Until tonight Thomas, sleep well." Simon closed the door, leaving Thomas alone in the room. He heard the faint click of a lock being turned.

Waiting until he could no longer hear Simon's footsteps in the hallway, he tried to open the door; it was no surprise that it was locked. With a tired sigh, he looked around the room he was trapped in. It was larger than he had expected it to be and very clean. His packs and instruments were already piled in the corner. A small table with a sturdy chair held a pitcher of water and a bottle of wine along with a loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, and an apple wrapped in a napkin. The bed had a thick mattress with a goose feather pillow and a thick wool blanket. It was the most inviting thing Thomas had seen in a long time.

Rubbing at the scabs on his neck, Thomas took a long drink of the water and accepted the bed's silent invitation. But as tired as he was, it was a long time before he slept.

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