The Golden Bow roared with activity. The troubadours had played four encores after their regular set and now sat quietly, sipping the ale offered to them. Lord Darron and his retinue occupied two of the central tables, while his bodyguards muttered quietly at the bar a few seats down. The tavern maids were agog in the presence of the two minstrels, and seemed giddy just being in their presence.
Margot, a stray lock of her ruddy hair drooping down out of her kerchief, smiled at them warmly. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk to you two gents since your arrival. You’re truly amazing. Where are you from?”
Ponce, the agreed-upon spokesman of the duo, spoke up. “Here and there, really. We were born two shires over, in Beegurd. Grew up there, too. We were playing lutes before we were out of diapers. We’ve traveled the length and breadth of Alofshire, Camitshire, Kayshire, Relfshire…”
His dark-haried companion, Tobin, cut in. “Welkonshire, Luffshire, and so on. Get to the point, Ponce. You’re boring the ladies.”
Ada, the dark-skinned barmaid, giggled. “Oh, we’re no ladies. The stories Margot and I could tell you. Will you be staying long in Colby?”
“Not long.” Ponce replied. “Just a night or two, to rest our weary legs, then north to Ribald Creek and northwest to Kayradan. There’s a fair there in two weeks; it’s a good chance to pick up some extra coin.”
“A pity.” Margot sighed. “Such handsome lads, and gone so quickly.”
“Indeed.” said Ada. “Before they leave, we’ve got to give them something to remember Colby by.”
“A souvenir?” Tobin jibed.
“Better, and far more memorable.” Ada fired back. “You’re handsome lads, and it’s a shame none of the womenfolk have made you feel welcome and taken you to see the sights yet.”
“To see the sights?” Ponce smiled, but seemed unconvinced. “In this little hamlet? We saw your town square on the way in. What is there that we haven’t seen yet?”
“You haven’t seen what’s under our dresses yet. And it’s a good thing you came tonight, of all nights. It just so happens that all our smallclothes are in the wash.”
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