"There has always been a bit of harp-song in my family," Caleb said conversationally, politely passing over the awkward stops and hesitations the girl made about her past. "It makes for pleasant pastimes at nights, particularly when we are campaigning and the men are bored. Now, this creature," he held up the harp, "is a thing of herself. You'll notice some of her chords are a little off-key and there's a jump of about three notes between this string and the next. It makes playing awkward, but if you know her, you can coax a pretty tune out of her. You did well yourself, for having never handled her before. See, just here..."
He turned the harp about and leaned it over to the candlelight. "On the knob, do you see those initials, J.E. b. I.? Junius Etesias, Israel's son. That is my grandfather. And here, my initials: C. b. J.E.. My father didn't live long enough to master it," he explained. "In fact, I was only ten or so when I came into Lord Ambrosius' care. The whole west was in turmoil, and my village was burnt to the ground, and I fell in with Artos, myself a few others - Gaius and Kay and Bedwyr, really - having nowhere else to go and no one else to go to. So I came away with my harp and learned horses and sword-play, and I make music on the harp between whiles." He smiled in a friendly way.
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