I was playing at Anker’s later that night when I caught the eye of a beautiful girl sitting at one of the crowded tables in back. She looked remarkably like Denna, but I knew that to be nothing more than my own fancy. I hoped to see her enough that I had been catching glimpses of her out of the corner of my eye for days.
     My second glance told me the truth….
     It was Denna, singing along with half the folk in Anker’s to “Drover’s Daughters.” She saw I was looking in her direction and waved.
     Her appearance caught me so much by surprise that I completely forgot what my fingers were doing and my song fell to pieces. Everyone laughed, and I took a grand bow to hide my embarrassment. They cheered and booed me in equal amounts for a minute or so, enjoying my failure more than they had the song itself. Such is human nature.
     I waited for their attention to drift awayfrom me, then made my way casually to where Denna was sitting.
     She stood to greet me. “I’d heard you were playing on this side of the river,” she said. “But I can’t imagine how you keep the job if you fall apart every time a girl gives you a wink.”
     I felt myself flush a little. “It doesn’t happen that often.”
     “The winking or the falling apart?”
     Unable to think of a response, I felt myself flush redder, and she laughed. “How long will you be playing tonight?” She asked.
     “Not much longer,” I lied. I owed Anker at least another hour.
     She brightened. “Good. Come away with me afterward, I need someone to walk with.”
     Hardly believing my good luck, I made a bow to her. “At your service certainly. Let me go and finish up.” I made my way to the bar where Anker and two of his serving girls were busy pulling drinks.
     Unable to catch his eye, I grabbed hold of his apron as he hurried past me. He jerked to a stop and barely avoided spilling a tray of drinks onto a table of customers. “God’s teeth boy. What’s the matter w’ye?”
     “Anker, I’ve got to go. I can’t stay till closing tonight.”
     His face soured. “Crowds like this don’t come for the askin’. They ain’t goin’ to stay without a little song or summat to entertain ’em.”
     “I’ll do one more song. A long one. But I’ve got to go after that.” I gave him a desperate look. “I swear I’ll make it up to you.”
     He looked at me more closely. “Are ye in trouble?” I shook my head. “It’s a girl then.” He turned his head at the sound of voices calling for more drinks, then waved me away, briskly. “Fine, go. But mind you, make it a good, long song. And you’ll owe me.”
     I moved to the front of the room and clapped my hands for the room’s attention. Once the room was moderately quiet I began to play. By the time I struck the third chord everyone knew what it was: “Tinker Tanner.” The oldest song in the world. I took my hands from the lute and began to clap. Soon everyone was pounding out the rhythm in unison, feet against the floor, mugs on tabletops.
     The sound was almost overwhelming, but it faded appropriately when I sang the first verse. Then I led the room in the chorus with everyone singing along, some with their own words, some in their own keys. I moved to a nearby table as I finished my second verse and led the room in the chorus again.
     Then I gestured expectantly toward the table to sing a verse of their own. It took a couple of seconds for them to realize what I wanted, but the expectation of the whole room was enough to encourage one of the more tipsy students to shout out a verse of his own. It gained him thunderous applause and cheers. Then, as everyone sang the chorus again, I moved to another table and did the same thing.
     Before too long folk were taking initiative to sing out their own verses when the chorus was over. I made my way to where Denna waited by the outer door, and together we slipped out into the early evening twilight.
     “That was cleverly done,” she said as we began to stroll away from the tavern. “How long to you think they’ll keep it up?”
     “That will all depend on how quickly Anker manages to pull down drinks for the lot of them.” I came to a stop at the edge of the alley that ran between the back of Anker’s tavern and the bakery next door. “If you will excuse me a moment, I have to put my lute away.”
     “In an alley?” she asked.
     “In my room.” Stepping lightly, I moved quickly up the side of the building. Right foot rain barrel, left foot window ledge, left hand iron drainpipe, and I swung myself onto the lip of the first story roof. I hopped across the alley to the roof of the bakery and smiled at her startled intake of breath. From there it was a short stroll upward and I hopped back across to the second story roof of Anker’s. Tripping the latch to my window, I reached through and set my lute lightly on my bed before heading back down the way I had come.
     “Does Anker charge a penny every time you use his stairs?” she asked as I neared the ground.
     I stepped down from the rainbarrel and brushed my hands against my pants. “I come and go at odd hours,” I explained easily as I fell into step beside her. “Am I correct in understanding that you are looking for a gentleman to walk with you tonight?”
     A smile curved her lips as she looked sideways at me. “Quite.”
     “That is unfortunate,” I sighed. “I am no gentleman.”
     Her smile grew. “I think that you are close enough.”
     “I would like to be closer.”
     “Then come walking with me.” “It would please me greatly. However…” I slowed my walk a bit, my smile fading into a more serious expression. “What about Sovoy?”
     Her mouth made a line. “He’s staked a claim on me then?”
     “Well, not as such. But there are certain protocols involved….”
     “A gentleman’s agreement?” she asked acidicly.
     “More like honor among thieves, if you will.”
     She looked me in the eye. “Kvothe,” she said seriously. “Steal me.”