I lead Princess Maria De Lemor, third in line for the throne of the Empire down the streets of the city by myself.

The city is still alive with action, as lively music comes from inns and shops sell wares to the more night-friendly races living in the city. Fire Elementalists put on small shows for the populace, beautiful lights appearing as students of the Mage’s Coliseum shape dragons and heroes with their mana.

Maria loves those the most, delaying our walk by a good ten minutes as a storyteller wearing a mask, shows the story of Serdinon The Great, a First Circle Mage and Master Of Nature. He actually makes plants grow from the ground as his friend makes fire come from the mouth of a dragon, also made of fire.

It was fun and I found myself very surprised as The Princess oohed and aahed with the crowd, yelling with joy when Serdinon saves the princess from an evil mage.

I am thankful that we came towards the end of the story however. I am already rather late for the meeting with Dean and the other Royal Guards.

We arrive at the inn as a room full of drunk Guards sing along with a minstrel in a rather rowdy song about a barman and an elf. Made all the funnier by the fact that the man singing it was a rather obvious half-elf, with the fair skin and pointed ears their kind are known for.

An elf girl goes into a bar

Her lips like colored berries

So red and plump it seemed that she….

…Had just been popping cherries!

The whole tavern responds like they had heard the song a dozen times.

“Cherries, Cherries, Her lips were popping cherries”

The minstrel continues the song with a smile on his lips.

The Barman saw her cherry lips

The floor he stopped a moppin’

He felt to check his bottle neck

And….. The cork it was a poppin’

“Poppin’ Poppin’ his cork it was a poppin’!”

I look over at Maria, who has a confused look on her face. I laugh at the fact that she hasn’t gotten it yet.

The elf girl swept beside the keep

Her beauty filled his eyes and

sure enough the Mizzen mast

Between his thighs was risin’!

“Risin’ Risin’ His Mizen mast was risin’!”

The barman was a handsome lad

He once had been a sailor

His hope was high (beside his thigh)

That maybe he could nail her!

“Nail her, nail her, he hoped that he could Nail her!”

The elven girl could clearly see

The sails that filled his rigging

And she had gold and jewels besides

For which he could be digging

“Digging, Digging, she hoped he would start digging!”

She danced a dance that made the men

Forget she was their better

Her eyes would burn with every turn

And… her lips were getting wetter

“Wetter wetter, her lips were getting WETTER!”

Her skirts would fly and show her thigh

Her ankles were so naked

The Barman thought the confined space

Around his mast might break it

“Break it, break it, he thought that he would break it!”

The elf girl slipped up to the lad

And reached into his pocket.

The boy had been so long from joy

It went off like a rocket!

“Rocket rocket, it went off like a rocket!”

The elf girl’s fun had just undone

His zipper oh so tricky

She danced with glee so all could see

The poor boy’s mast was sticky!

“Sticky Sticky, the poor boy’s mast was STICKY!”

Relieved that the song is over, I start laughing, men and women joining in with my laughter. The minstrel looks at all of us with a wry smile, winking at Maria and I.

Then to all of our surprise, he continues,

Not even sad, the sailor lad

Danced on and caught his prankster

His mast and he both took a bow

Together they both thankst her!

The barman laughed and bobbed his shaft

And spoke up for his member

‘A pleasant whirl with such a girl

is something to remember

But when you take me out of bed

To fill the night with blisses

The very least that you could do

Is tuck me in with kisses’

“The very least that you could DO…

Is tuck me in with kisses!”

After the song is finished, Dean and the other Royal Guards wave me over.

I look over at Maria, who is redder than an apple, not that I am one to talk. Both of us not looking at each other, we walk to the table full of Royal Guards.

They stare at the princess curiously, obviously not recognizing her.

Dean bows to Maria, “Why hello there, m’lady. Welcome to The Wandering Minstrel, a rather famous tavern where us Guards unwind after a hard day at work. I am Dean, what might your name be?” He says with a cheeky smile.

Maria laughs at him, curtsying in response to his bow, her blush almost completely gone. “You can call me Marry.”

Jake, the spearman, James, the fire elementalist, Carla, the healer and the brothers Chris and Alex, both of whom are carrying giant shields on their backs all introduce themselves to Maria.

Surprisingly enough, she seems to remember all the names.

Dean speaks up as we sit down at the table. “What brings you here with this ruffian, Marry?” He says, motioning towards me.

Maria laughs, “He told me that he was planning on looking into something that happened the other night, I was curious about it, so I decided to come along.”

“The boy?” Carla asks, I nod.

“It’s not a good idea to be messing with powerful mages.” James says, “Those protections on your uniform can only go so far.”

“Powerful mages?” Maria asks.

“Damien didn’t tell you anything did he?” Dean says, looking at me with a fake frown, before explaining what happened last night to her.

“That’s terrible.” Maria says, angry at the person who could do that to a kid.

“It is.” I say.

The minstrel starts another song, moving amongst the Guards as he sings,

Thank God that we have emperors and lords and queens and kings

And knights and earls and barons and such lofty noble things

Without them there we’d all be left with such unpleasantry

Why we might not even realize that we were peasantry!

To my surprise, all of the people in the tavern, including the guardsmen, join in with a line;

“We might not even realize that we are peasantry!”

So drink a toast to Nobleness wherever it is found

And let’s drink one for heroes for who knows where they are bound

And when a hero is a noble, nothing can top that

Most likely you can tell because they wear a noble hat

“Most likely you can tell because they wear a noble hat!”

Without the castle walls and moats and drawbridges and such,

Who knows what cruel invaders would have had us in their clutch

Thank heavens that our masters told us peasants all to build them

And then threw glorious parties every time that we had killed them

“And we will throw a party each and every time we kill them”

So drink a toast to fighting prowess, gifted from above

And let’s drink one for those who lead us and to those we love

Sometimes they are both the same, and nothing can be bolder,

Though often times it means we won’t be growing any older

“Though often times it means we won’t be growing any older.”

Our kings and queens are glorious, our emperors are godly,

They’re never wrong even when they may be acting oddly

It’s not for us to judge such things, but only to OBEY…

And dream at night that we might be as wonderful as they.

“And dream at night that we might be as wonderful as they!

As wonderful as they, as wonderful as they,

And dream at night that we might be as wonderful as THEY! HEY!”

Maria bursts out laughing at the end of the song as everyone in the tavern claps and laughs. Cheering the bard who was brave enough to sing such a song.

The minstrel bows, flourishing his cape with a smile on his face. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Somehow the minstrel ended up at our side of the tavern, Maria waves him over. “Please, join us. I loved that song! Who made it?”

To the surprise of everyone at our table, the minstrel joins us. Pulling a chair from another table, he waves at the waitress. She nods, winking at him.

“I wrote the song myself, I make sure to sing it every time I come to this tavern.” The minstrel says with a slight accent and a tenor voice.

“And we love hearing it every time.” Carla says.

“Thank you. I am glad that you liked it so much.” He says as the waitress gives him a mug of some unknown drink.

The table chuckles at his words. Chris pats the minstrel on the back, his deep voice showing signs of an accent from the southern province. “We appreciate anyone with half the wit you have. Not to mention that amazing voice.”

The Minstrel smiles at the praise, “Thank you again, fair sir.”

I notice the minstrel glancing at The Princess quickly, before looking away again. He does it a few times and It makes me wonder why he decided to sit at our table.

James speaks, the mug of beer in front of him likely affecting his words, “We get to deal with the Noble bastards everyday. It is good to hear someone finally say the truth.”

“You can’t mean that.” Maria says, chuckling. “I don’t think that was the way the song was intended at all, I am sure the minstrel was honestly praising Nobles.”

Dean knocks James on the head, saying “Of course you are right, James has just had a little too much to drink.”

“It isn’t just the drink talking, little miss.” James says, his voice calm and stable. “Some little rich brat had a daddy that did something great. So he gets to wake up every morning with the military’s ear and the power to punish any peasant that looks at him wrong.” He pauses, thinking, “I love my work, mind you and I would sacrifice my life for that little brat any day. But that doesn’t make it right.”

Maria looks like she wants to argue, but settles for shaking her head ruefully and smiling.

“You had better be careful friend,” The Minstrel says, very carefully not looking at anyone. “That kind of talk can get you into trouble if you say it in front of the wrong person.”

My eyes narrow at the minstrel. He knows. He knows that the girl sitting next to him is The Princess. Or at least he knows that she is more than she seems.

James waves him off. “I am well respected enough to say a few things under the influence of a drink and not get any trouble over it.”

“What is your name? I haven’t had a chance to hear it.” I ask the minstrel politely. If people find out where the Princess is, he will be first on my list of suspects.

“Kevan Silvertongue, at your service.” The minstrel says, bowing a little in his seat.

“Silvertongue? Is that your Elven name?” Maria asks, putting her hand in front of her mouth.

“It is actually. My family has always had a way with words.” He responds, accenting his words with small movements of his hands.

“Excuse me.” I interrupt their conversation politely. “But if you don’t mind, I would like to start as early as possible to find the man who did that to those children. I was hoping that you might join me.” I talk to the whole table, “but I am fine with carrying on in this mission myself.”

Chris hits me on the back guffawing. “Of course we will join you.” He rumbled in his deep voice. “Even James isn’t one to see kids harmed without a fight.”

“I seem to have missed something. What is going on?” Kevan interrupts.

Dean tells him about what happened the other night.

“That is terrible. Perhaps I could be of some help to you?” Kevan says, stroking his clean-shaven chin.

“We wouldn’t wish to trouble you.” I respond.

“It is no trouble at all. I am happy to help” He waves away my words, “and I might have access to knowledge that upstanding men like you do not.”

I open my mouth, not sure what I plan to say, maybe I might argue with him. But Dean doesn’t give me the chance.

“He is right, there are people who won’t trust us, simply because of our positions in the Palace.” Dean says.

I close my mouth and give some thought to his words. Begrudgingly, I admit that he is right. “Welcome to the team.” I say, holding my hand out to the minstrel.

He looks at my hand with interest, before he reaches out to accept my handshake.

“So Carla, where are the kids?” I ask her.