Touch of Power
Page 48
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“Should we leave?” Belen asked when we spotted a trio of soldiers watching the market stands.
“We need supplies. There’s not another market until Peti, and that’s too far,” Kerrick said. “We’ll split up so we don’t attract undue attention. Flea, you’re with Belen. Loren and Quain. Avry’s with me.” He distributed coins and a list of items for each team to purchase. “We’ll meet up along the northern road.”
Kerrick and I headed to a woman selling cloaks, capes and gloves. He didn’t waste time looking through the goods. “Do you have any gray traveling cloaks in her size?” He pointed to me.
The woman peered at me over her glasses. “Goodness, dearie. Aren’t you frozen?” She shot Kerrick a nasty look.
I liked her right away. She reminded me of Mom.
She sorted through a rack. “I’ve a dark gray that might fit.” Pulling out a cloak, she wrapped it around my shoulders. “Fur-lined and lots of pockets inside, dearie. Two big pockets on the outside. Do you have gloves?”
“Yes.” I had shoved Belen’s gift in my pants pocket when I’d rescued Kerrick.
She fussed around me, checking the length. “Those boots are too thin for this weather, dearie. The hair on the Lilys is thicker than last year. We’re in for a bad one.”
“They’re fine,” I said.
But she was determined. “I’ve a pair so soft…” She uncovered calf-high boots the same color as the cloak. “Try them on.”
I glanced at Kerrick.
“Go ahead,” he said.
The woman had been right. Not only soft, but the fur inside cushioned my feet in warmth. The soles gripped the ground nicely.
“You can walk all day in those and nary a blister.” She brandished her own boots. “I won’t wear anything else. I thank the maker every day that the cobbler survived the plague.”
Which meant the boots probably cost a fortune. I shouldn’t have tried them on. “They’re wonderful.” I agreed. “But I don’t have any…enough money.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll give you a good price for both.”
“But—”
“We’ll take them,” Kerrick said. He didn’t bother to haggle over the price because the woman was true to her word.
He paid her and we continued along the row of merchants. I needed the cloak, but not the boots. What was Kerrick up to now? Trying to bribe me? Not his style, but I wondered about the gold. When the mercs attacked Belen, Kerrick had forty gold. Considering they’ve been on the road for over two years, he probably started with a fortune.
“Did Ryne give you the money?” I asked.
“Yes. He also gave me a list of healers he had gotten from the Guild.” Kerrick’s gaze grew distant. “You wouldn’t have been on that list. How did Ryne know your name?”
Because I’ve had the misfortune of meeting the bastard. But I wouldn’t tell Kerrick that. Why? Cowardice? If he convinces me Ryne’s worth saving, then I’d die. Scary, right?
Or was it anger? Kerrick was well aware of what would happen to me after I healed Ryne and yet he showed not the slightest regret. I’d even listen to a speech about the greater good, or about being a martyr, or a hero like Loren had claimed. Yet, I’d gotten nothing. Perhaps he was worried about Belen’s reaction. Perhaps he shouldn’t keep so many secrets from Belen.
“Avry?”
I met his gaze. “They must have listed the apprentices, as well.”
No answer. My thoughts lingered on the Guild. They had been collecting information about the plague until they’d been overwhelmed. I wondered if the Guild House survived. Hoping to change the subject, I said, “The Guild House is a few miles east of the border between Vyg and Pomyt. Won’t we pass it on our way to the foothills?”
“We’ll come close. Why?”
“If any of their records survived, it could help us.”
“How?”
I explained about the medicinal plants. “And since we’ll be hiding for a couple months, it will give me something to do besides practice knife fighting.”
“As long as there isn’t any danger, we can stop. It’s a good idea.”
He had agreed too quick. That worried me.
We bought a few more supplies. Then Kerrick stopped at a stand selling weapons. “Last place.” He sorted through the daggers, hefting a few.
Sensing a sale, the owner approached. “They’re all crafted from the finest Zainsk steel.”
“They’re too heavy. Do you have any throwing knives?” Kerrick asked.
“Yes, sir.” The man rummaged under the table and returned with a black pouch. Unrolling the case, he revealed a half dozen narrow blades with small leather-wrapped hilts. “These were hand forged and blessed by the priests of Casis.”
Kerrick slipped one out and handed it to me. “What do you think?”
I covered my surprise by gauging the weight and fit of the weapon in my hand. “Easier to handle than Belen’s.”
“I have a target in the back. You’re welcome to try them out,” the owner said.
He showed us a red circle painted on a wooden fence. I flipped the right side of my cloak over my shoulder to free my arm. Aiming for the middle of the circle, I snapped my wrist. The knife flew straight and fast. Fun. I sent the other five. They clumped together in the center.
“We need supplies. There’s not another market until Peti, and that’s too far,” Kerrick said. “We’ll split up so we don’t attract undue attention. Flea, you’re with Belen. Loren and Quain. Avry’s with me.” He distributed coins and a list of items for each team to purchase. “We’ll meet up along the northern road.”
Kerrick and I headed to a woman selling cloaks, capes and gloves. He didn’t waste time looking through the goods. “Do you have any gray traveling cloaks in her size?” He pointed to me.
The woman peered at me over her glasses. “Goodness, dearie. Aren’t you frozen?” She shot Kerrick a nasty look.
I liked her right away. She reminded me of Mom.
She sorted through a rack. “I’ve a dark gray that might fit.” Pulling out a cloak, she wrapped it around my shoulders. “Fur-lined and lots of pockets inside, dearie. Two big pockets on the outside. Do you have gloves?”
“Yes.” I had shoved Belen’s gift in my pants pocket when I’d rescued Kerrick.
She fussed around me, checking the length. “Those boots are too thin for this weather, dearie. The hair on the Lilys is thicker than last year. We’re in for a bad one.”
“They’re fine,” I said.
But she was determined. “I’ve a pair so soft…” She uncovered calf-high boots the same color as the cloak. “Try them on.”
I glanced at Kerrick.
“Go ahead,” he said.
The woman had been right. Not only soft, but the fur inside cushioned my feet in warmth. The soles gripped the ground nicely.
“You can walk all day in those and nary a blister.” She brandished her own boots. “I won’t wear anything else. I thank the maker every day that the cobbler survived the plague.”
Which meant the boots probably cost a fortune. I shouldn’t have tried them on. “They’re wonderful.” I agreed. “But I don’t have any…enough money.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll give you a good price for both.”
“But—”
“We’ll take them,” Kerrick said. He didn’t bother to haggle over the price because the woman was true to her word.
He paid her and we continued along the row of merchants. I needed the cloak, but not the boots. What was Kerrick up to now? Trying to bribe me? Not his style, but I wondered about the gold. When the mercs attacked Belen, Kerrick had forty gold. Considering they’ve been on the road for over two years, he probably started with a fortune.
“Did Ryne give you the money?” I asked.
“Yes. He also gave me a list of healers he had gotten from the Guild.” Kerrick’s gaze grew distant. “You wouldn’t have been on that list. How did Ryne know your name?”
Because I’ve had the misfortune of meeting the bastard. But I wouldn’t tell Kerrick that. Why? Cowardice? If he convinces me Ryne’s worth saving, then I’d die. Scary, right?
Or was it anger? Kerrick was well aware of what would happen to me after I healed Ryne and yet he showed not the slightest regret. I’d even listen to a speech about the greater good, or about being a martyr, or a hero like Loren had claimed. Yet, I’d gotten nothing. Perhaps he was worried about Belen’s reaction. Perhaps he shouldn’t keep so many secrets from Belen.
“Avry?”
I met his gaze. “They must have listed the apprentices, as well.”
No answer. My thoughts lingered on the Guild. They had been collecting information about the plague until they’d been overwhelmed. I wondered if the Guild House survived. Hoping to change the subject, I said, “The Guild House is a few miles east of the border between Vyg and Pomyt. Won’t we pass it on our way to the foothills?”
“We’ll come close. Why?”
“If any of their records survived, it could help us.”
“How?”
I explained about the medicinal plants. “And since we’ll be hiding for a couple months, it will give me something to do besides practice knife fighting.”
“As long as there isn’t any danger, we can stop. It’s a good idea.”
He had agreed too quick. That worried me.
We bought a few more supplies. Then Kerrick stopped at a stand selling weapons. “Last place.” He sorted through the daggers, hefting a few.
Sensing a sale, the owner approached. “They’re all crafted from the finest Zainsk steel.”
“They’re too heavy. Do you have any throwing knives?” Kerrick asked.
“Yes, sir.” The man rummaged under the table and returned with a black pouch. Unrolling the case, he revealed a half dozen narrow blades with small leather-wrapped hilts. “These were hand forged and blessed by the priests of Casis.”
Kerrick slipped one out and handed it to me. “What do you think?”
I covered my surprise by gauging the weight and fit of the weapon in my hand. “Easier to handle than Belen’s.”
“I have a target in the back. You’re welcome to try them out,” the owner said.
He showed us a red circle painted on a wooden fence. I flipped the right side of my cloak over my shoulder to free my arm. Aiming for the middle of the circle, I snapped my wrist. The knife flew straight and fast. Fun. I sent the other five. They clumped together in the center.
