Bryn put his stringed instrument upon a table in the middle of the room. With two small mallets, he hammered out a jaunty tune. Men stomped their feet and clapped hands in time.
He stopped for a moment, grinned, and held out his hat. After he gathered a few coins, he began anew and added a sweet tenor voice. The Welsh flowed so fast, that some of the meaning was lost to Nicholas.
There’s a castle along the deep dark sea,
Where laird confines a fine fairy.
Hi dee ho and woe has me.
Wander not close for I fear for thee.
‘Tis said she’s queen to the Isle of Man
‘Tis said she bedded another man.
Hi dee ho and woe has me.
Wander not close for I fear for thee
He beats her each day for her mortal sin
And checks her womb for a babe within
Hi dee ho and woe has me.
Wander not close for I fear for thee
The dulcimer stopped and the lad all but whispered the next verse, slowly.
“She took a knife and killed a man dead....”
He slowly drew his hand across his throat.
Ran for the hills, or so is said.
He leaned forward.
The laird, he followed with knights galore
And that’s my tale, I have no more.
“Sing with me men.” He picked up his hammers and repeated the refrain with vigor.
Nicholas stood with clenched fists. “I’ve heard enough. We need to go.”
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