Being a Green Mother by Piers Anthony

difficulty talking, you know.”
    “Did he signal them in some way? Give them money? What?”
    “I really didn’t see,” she confessed. “I was hiding, at his behest. Then he blindfolded me and brought me out. I think that was so I wouldn’t see the thuggees. Perhaps it was part of the agreement, so I couldn’t identify them.” But that made little sense to her as she said it, because she had seen the thuggees before.
    “You saw nothing,” the master said, as if making a point.
    “Nothing. Why, is something wrong?”
    “I hope not,” the master said, and departed, leaving her perplexed.
    On the next reading session, Orb took a moment to inquire about this matter. “The tour master was questioning me about thuggees,” she said. “Is there something I should know about?”
    “You haven’t heard?” the harpy screeched, flapping her wings with excitement. “Five thuggees were found in town, hacked into pieces. Blood splattered all over, and—”
    “Watch it, birdbrain!” the mermaid snapped.
    “Dead?” Orb asked, stunned.
    “Probably they went after a berserker and got wiped out,” the mermaid said. “After they left you.”
    “A berserker?”
    “You don’t know about berserkers?” the harpy cried. “One taste of blood, and they go absolutely wild and just start killing, like sharks, and nothing stops them! They just cut and hack and—”
    “Finally get killed themselves,” the mermaid said firmly, again cutting off the harpy’s joyful description. “So whatever happened, it’s over now, because the only peaceful berserker is a dead berserker.”
    “That’s horrible,” Orb said, shuddering. “I’m glad we didn’t encounter a berserker!”
    The harpy fluttered her wings. “Well, I think—”
    “Let’s get on with the reading,” the mermaid said, with a fierce warning glance at the harpy.
    Orb proceeded with the lesson, but she was ill at ease. There seemed to be something they weren’t telling her.
    Later, she asked Mym about it. “Did you know that those thuggees we encountered were found slaughtered? How do you suppose that happened?”
    “A berserker,” he said, stuttering so badly that she decided to spare him further talking for a while. Evidently the matter had come to his attention, too, and disturbed him as it did her.
    They were in her wagon, suffering through a long wait while a downpour of the monsoon season inundated the landscape. Some wagons leaked, but Orb’s was tight, and it was an excellent place to be. “I think we should get to know each other better,” she said. “We’re—well, we’re fellow performers now, and—” She shrugged, finding herself unableto say directly that she very much enjoyed his company. Mym, so unprepossessing at first, was a handsome, talented, and decent man, and the mystery of his origin made him intriguing.
    He nodded, agreeable to whatever she wished. That was another thing about him—he was a gentleman. The mermaid had hinted to Orb that Mym was quite interested in her, and Pythea the snake charmer had said the same. Both confessed to having offered Mym entertainment of the intimate kind, but he had declined because his interest was elsewhere. Orb had blushed, then found herself flattered, and was developing more than an idle interest in Mym herself. She knew he would never force on her any attention she did not want; she felt safe with him and comfortable, and that counted for a lot.
    She told him of her history, such as it was: her youth in Ireland; the acquisition of her magic harp from the Mountain King; and her quest for the Llano. He listened closely and, when she came to the song, he said he had heard of it.
    “You have?” she asked, excited.
    He told her a variant of one of the stories she had heard before—how a young woman had loved an esteemed warrior and captured his love by singing the Llano, even though she was of lesser birth than he, and not beautiful.
    Orb smiled, glad to have this confirmation. “Of