“That is for the owner to decide.”
Prin sat beside the dog and placed an arm over its shoulder. The dog sat and gazed at her with adoring eyes.
Sara said, “If you order it to do so, will that dog attack Prin?”
“I’m not sure my training is that good. Just look at them. I think they have already forged a bond. If I didn’t have a hungry wife to feed, I’d just give the dog to the girl.”
“What would your wife say if she heard you talking like that about her?” Sara demanded, trying not to smile.
“She would say that I feed her so she can keep me warm during cold winter nights.”
Sara laughed and asked, “Will your training demonstrate the dog attacking?”
“Yes, and protecting you. My dogs are not mere animals taught to attack when they hear a command. If someone intends to harm you and the dog senses it, you will be warned by growls, and if it believes the threat is still there, the dog will attack without command. But, to reassure you, he would only attack if someone was striking you, not just shouting or yelling.”
After more discussion, the deal was made. The owner wouldn’t allow them to take the dog until they returned for training. They left his stall and paused long enough at three more stalls to purchase the basics for cooking in their new loft.
The swirl of activity in the bazaar captivated both, and as they moved up and down the aisles, they paused to watch dancers, listen to singers or musicians, and browse items of interest for whatever reason. They spoke to people and came to know several enough to pass a few friendly words.
While talking to an old lady about the benefits of one sleeping pad over another, Sara said softly, “Look at that.”
Prin turned and found a flock of ravens, ten or twelve, flying past, but as she spotted them, the flock wheeled and turned in her direction. They landed on the roofs of the stalls all around them, twisting their head to look at Prin and bobbing them as they moved closer. Each of them repeated, “Hannah beware,” before flying away.
Prin stood transfixed, and hissed at Sara, “Did you see and hear that?”
“When you can turn naturally, look to your left, at the tall man dressed in black robes walking down the next aisle.”
Prin casually turned as she examined the material of the sleeping pad displayed. Her eyes went to the tall man wearing a black flowing robe. His features were sharp, his age not much older than Sara’s. She’d first seen him often at the Earl’s castle when she was a young fire starter, and he’d watched her then. He’d watched so intently that she had learned to take the back hallways to avoid his scrutiny. He was part of those opposed to King Harold. He was probably the one who had ordered and paid for her father to be killed, and the one who was undoubtedly here to kill her.
It was the man known to her as the ‘young mage.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
Prin half-turned away, concealing her face with the shift in position and with the downturned brim of her hat. The young mage walked imperiously through the bazaar, back straight, head held high, and his eyes searching each person they fell upon. They hadn’t found Prin. Yet.
What’s he doing here? The last she knew, he had been in Evelyn’s village. He had been searching for Prin, or Hannah, as she was known ten days earlier. How had he followed her to this strange place? Had she made a mistake that led him here?
“Is it him?” Sara asked.
“The young mage? Yes.”
“He knows you by sight?”
“Yes.”
Sara drew in a deep breath, then exhaled and smiled weakly. “This is good for two reasons. First, we know for sure he is here, and he does not know we are. Second, although he is a mage, his magic didn’t find you even though he was close enough that I could have thrown a rock and struck him—and as you know, I’m not very good at throwing things.”
“I know that. We’re going back to our warehouse, and you’re going to practice throwing at Treeman until your arm hurts, then you’re going to throw with the other arm.” Prin was still covertly watching the young mage as he walked down the center of the row, silently demanding all those in front of him give way.
He was almost out of sight when he paused. Prin froze. Has he somehow sensed me? His head never turned in her direction, but from one side of him, a soldier of the Order of The Iron Ring approached. While she could not hear the words, the meeting seemed to be confrontational. The young mage shook his head several times. They parted, but neither looked satisfied.
“What was that all about?” Sara whispered.
“Should we follow him?”
“No. Too much chance of an accidental sighting, or recognizing you. I think we go home and disappear,” Sara said in a voice that hinted at trembling.
Their purchases were so many, so varied, and so heavy, that they rested several times on the way back. However, they kept a vigil behind them, on all sides, and before going to their door and the new locks, they paused and checked the street again.
The side door stood open, and as they watched a workman carry tools outside to a waiting handcart. Another followed with an armload of scrap wood. Then El walked into sight and spoke with the two men, probably making sure of the work they had been sent to perform. Everything seemed completely normal.
They walked inside to where El waited after seeing them. He smiled and greeted them warmly, then asked if they could accompany him on an inspection tour. He’d finished all the work they requested.
They followed him inside. To their right was the long, open area of the warehouse, all the way to the double carriage doors at the far end. Only Treeman stood in the center. Ahead and to their left were work tables, cabinets, candle holders, shelves, stools, and the stairs to the loft.
They followed El up the stairs. The walls had been whitewashed, and the area smelled of the fresh paint. At the rear of the large, open room, there were three doors on the single wall that went from wall to wall. The center door was a small sleeping room for a guest, while the other two were larger bedrooms, one for each of them. Inside them, El had built shelves for clothing, pegs for hanging, and raised platforms for sleeping.
The large room was open. A new fireplace that doubled as a cook stove had been built against the far wall, and on the side wall were shelves from floor to ceiling for their food, pots, pans, and dishes—when they bought them. A worktable held a washbasin, with a metal tube that went through the wall to allow water to flow out, so they only had to carry water up the stairs from their well in the backyard.
Prin noticed the floors felt solid. None of the boards squeaked, and when covered with rugs the rooms would take on a warm feeling. She imagined it with chairs and other decorations and then noticed the windows. El had done such a masterful job of building, the existing windows stood open, airing out the smell of paint and fresh cut lumber. He had been right. Larger ones were not needed.
One window looked down on the garden and fruit trees in the rear, but in front, there were three windows in the main room, all of them with a view of the street in both directions, and even to the intersection to her left. The light streaming inside from them brightened the room, and she noticed a catch on each that would allow it to swing closed and lock.
Sara paid the fee and assured him he would be the one she would call if any more work was needed. He returned the key and shook hands.
They had made their home in a corner of the warehouse below while the loft was built. This would be their first night in their rooms. They both wanted to rush out and buy furniture, but with the young mage in the bazaar, didn’t dare. His presence hung over them like late winter weather. The appearance of the ravens bothered Prin more. She had expected the young mage to arrive sooner or later, or at least the bounty hunters and murderers. The ravens told of more danger.