“And what are they?” I asked.
Baylet pinned me with a thoughtful stare. But he never answered my question. The silence that stretched between us became uncomfortable. I shivered the whole time, inching closer to the fire so that my knees had grown hot.
Finally, he broke the silence. “Why Suffering? Was that your plan the whole time?”
I took up a stick and poked at the fire, causing sparks to be scattered up in the heat. “I think it probably was. Not the specific passage. But it’s the one music none of the rest here know.” I pointed vaguely toward the staging area with my stick. “And Suffering…there’s a lot about it that makes sense here.”
Baylet listened, never looking away from me. “And yet you told me your training wasn’t complete. What do you know about absolute sound, then?”
The question didn’t seem conversational. He was asking for a reason, and it had to do with more than just today’s disappointment.
“A little,” I answered. “Maesteri Divad tried to show me before I left. But I wasn’t terribly receptive.”
As I said it, I began to wonder if Divad had been coaching me, preparing me, for when I arrived here. Surely he’d known I wouldn’t stay in Recityv. He could judge a stranger’s intention from body language and the first word out his mouth. And he’d known me for four years.
“Absolute sound is the last principle of music you must master before you can sing Suffering the way it was intended.” Baylet’s eyes grew distant, staring across the flames. “And at their core, the Mor Refrains are written with the same principle in mind. There’s more to them than that, but you can think of them in that way.” His eyes focused on me. “Which is why we didn’t bring them with us; why we never do.”
I fought to remember what Maesteri Divad had said the last time we’d spoken, argued. Anything to help me pull myself from the music illness that had gotten inside me.
“And I still stand by that,” Baylet said, though his voice didn’t sound convincing. “But you…I need to tell you something. Things have changed during your four days—”
“Four days. What are you talking about?”
Baylet gave a weak smile with one corner of his mouth. “You slept straight through the first three. While you did, the Sellari changed their strategy.” His eyes then widened with new understanding. “It makes sense now. They must have realized you’d sung Suffering.”
“What makes sense?” I threw back my blankets, worry getting the better of me.
“All the Sellari coming at us now, on all fronts, are like our own Shoarden men. Our songs don’t stop them.” He scrubbed the stubble on his cheeks. “They don’t hear us. We are reduced to steel alone…And we’re outmanned five to one.”
I felt a heavy pressure in my chest. “It’s my fault,” I muttered. “For trying to sing Suffering.”
Baylet stood. “Timing is a hell of a thing, Belamae. If you’d had more training at Descant, the Sellari wouldn’t need to hear your song for it to beat them down.” He laughed bitterly. “That’s not a fair thing for me to say. The use of song that way is precisely why the Mor Nation Refrains are held safe. Never sung.”
Baylet then pulled a sword from beneath his own cloak and laid it on the ground. He stared at it for a moment before standing and leaving, not saying another word.
I sat listening to the crackle of fire, and watching the dull gleam of orange flame on the hilt of the blade. If I was no good with Suffering, I was utterly inept with a sword. In fairness, I hadn’t spent any real time cultivating a feel for one. It would be as foreign to me as playing a new instrument.
Like a viola.
New shivers claimed me before I managed to crawl my way to my travel bag. Inside, I found the hollow oak tube I’d carried with me from Recityv. I pulled off the fitted plug on one end and gently removed the score Maesteri Divad had given me the last time we met. I carefully unrolled it, and scanned the music staff.
Scordatura.
Of course it would be this kind of notation for the viola d’amore. As I pored over the melody, I began to realize why Divad had given it to me.
I read and reread it for hours, and jumped when my tent flap was pushed back. Baylet poked his head inside. “The Sellari are pressing their advantage.”
His eyes found the sword where he’d laid it down. I ignored the invitation and shrugged out of my blankets entirely. I stood, felt a bit woozy, but forced myself to follow him into the dark hours of night. As we went, I kept hearing the song my Maesteri had given me.
Scordatura. Mistuned.