Perilous Travels (The Southern Continent Series Book 2) by Jeffrey Quyle Page A

laughter.
    “A man who wishes to seek a woman in marriage – or a woman who wishes to seek a man – goes to the musician to request that he play a certain song, at a certain time, in a certain place, when the prospective couple is there together.  When they hear the music, the one who is being asked knows that the question is at hand, and they answer.
    “The musician leaves after the song is finished, and is not involved in any further portion of the couple’s wooing,” the mother laughed as she explained.
    “Of course the musician plays public music at festivals and ceremonies and other activities as well, but his main duty is to allow the couples to carry out their courtship.
    “If you’ll be here for the next few weeks and you’ll be able to provide musician services to the people until we can bring in a musician of our own, you will have no problem fitting in to the village – all your troubles will go away,” Layreen smiled.
    “Just play music and get along?” Grange asked skeptically.
    “It’s as simple as that,” she insisted.
    “I don’t have anything to lose, do I?  It’s a deal,” he agreed.
    “I’ll go tell folks.  There’ll be some who will come to you right away wanting your services, some who will never come to you, and some who are going to wait and see how you do,” she said matter-of-factly.
    “Are there specific songs? Who can teach me the songs you use?” Grange asked.
    “Lastone knows them all.  He proposed to me three times before I accepted him,” the woman smiled at the memory.
    “Can he sing them?” Grange asked.
    “He is not such a good singer.  Ask Shaylee; her friend Oleen has a sweet voice,” Layreen suggested. “That’s a better choice,” she decided.
    “I don’t have to sing, do I?” Grange asked in sudden horror.  He knew his singing voice was of little value.  “I’ll be playing the flute so I won’t be able to sing,” he pointed out.
    “No, no singing from you – just learn the tunes,” the imposing woman stood up and went to the door.
    “Shaylee, Oleen, would you come here please?” she called.
    The girls were there in just five seconds; they’d obviously been close by.
    “Grange is going to be our village musician,” Layreen said, and the girls squealed with joy and clasped hands with each other.
    “And he needs to learn our songs in a hurry, so I want the two of you to teach him every one of our songs that you know,” the mother instructed the two shiny-eyed girls.
    “Oleen, you’ve got the better voice, so this is mostly your responsibility,” Layreen continued.
    “Mother!   That is most unfair.  I found him; he’s mine, you know,” Shaylee said.  “He should be my responsibility.”
    “You are a wonderful girl with many terrific features, but your singing voice does not compare to Oleen’s,” Layreen told her daughter in a no-nonsense tone.  “But you can work with him to teach him to make his own ointment for his sunburn.
    “Wait until the sun goes down, then the three of you can go off somewhere and practice his music.  Don’t let him get in the direct sunlight!” she warned the eager girls, as if she were directing them in the care of a livestock animal.
    “I’m going to go tell my mother and my sister!” Oleen declared, and she left in a hurry, with Shaylee on her heels.
    “Are you the queen of this village?” Grange asked.  “You have done everything, made every decision since I arrived,” he observed.
    “I am the chief,” she agreed.
    “Thank you for all that you’ve done for me,” Grange said gratefully.
    “Perhaps I should thank you,” she smiled.  “This may turn out to be a very advantageous arrangement while you are here among us.”
    That afternoon, Grange sat quietly in the home, while Lastone worked on tanning the hides he had piled by his work station, and Shaylee visited with her friends, entering the door every few minutes to make sure Grange was still there. 
    Grange was