"A silver."
"Why, that's robbery. Surely you cannot expect to get such a price?"
"Already have and will again. Take it or leave it," the man said, and he cleared the sword at his waist from its scabbard, daring them to steal it. They did not intend to stoop so low, but that price would consume most of the coin they had, and they still had a long journey ahead of them.
"Come on, li'l miss. Let us find a more pleasant thief to steal our coin," Benjin said.
The storekeeper spit at them as they left. The argument drew unwanted attention, and several people among the crowd stared at them as they turned away, as if they hoped for a fight to break out, if only to break the monotony.
At that moment, a chance wind gusted through the streets, and the hood was pulled from Catrin's face. As she rushed to pull it back up, she saw a woman who was as wide as she was tall, and she was walking toward them.
"Lady Lissa! What in all the gods' lands are you doing here? You were to be at Ravenhold weeks ago. And what have you done with your hair?" she asked as she approached, and Catrin looked about to see who she addressed, but then the woman stopped abruptly and her eyes went wide. She leaped across the short distance that separated them and grabbed Catrin by the arm.
"If you make a move," she said in a low voice, "I'll shout for the guards and label you thieves. Come with me quietly, and no one gets hurt. Understand?" Only then did Catrin feel the pressure of a cold blade against her back. Benjin stood, frozen, seemingly afraid the woman would run Catrin through. Without a word, they let the strange woman lead them into a nearby inn.
The common room was crowded, but no one paid them any mind except to curse them for pushing through the throng. The knife at her back urged her up the stairs, and they stopped before a sturdy wooden door at the end of the hall. This door was the only one to bear a lock, and the woman produced a key from the folds of her shawl. Within a moment they were inside, the door locked securely behind them.
"Don't think to lie to me. I'd know you even if you were burned from head to toe. You're Mangst as sure as Vestra shines," she said.
Benjin let out a heavy sigh. "Who are you?" he asked, and the woman wheeled on him with her knife.
"The questions are mine to ask. Never you mind who I am. The question is who are you, and what are you doing here?"
"That's a long story and not one easily explained," Benjin began, but the woman cut him short, literally; she sliced the air before him as if to demonstrate her skill with the knife.
"Shut your mouth. I'm not asking you. I ask her. What is your business here?"
"We're bound for Adderhold," Catrin said, unsure of what else to say. She decided a small bit of truth was all she was willing to give. She didn't even know who this woman was or what evil deed she suspected them of committing, but her patience was already worn thin.
"Lies," the woman said, and she punctuated her statement by tapping her slender blade on Catrin's chest. It was a move meant to threaten and cow her, but Catrin had had enough. She and Benjin had done nothing to deserve such treatment. With a quickness she didn't realize she possessed, she clasped the woman's wrist and twisted hard, driving her knee into the woman's groin. By the time the woman hit the floor, Catrin had the blade wedged between the woman's multiple chins.
"Easy now. Easy. Let's not get too excited. Let her up, li'l miss. We mean her no harm, and she means us none. This is all just a misunderstanding," Benjin said, but his words were ignored.
Catrin snarled at the woman, who now became the target of all her anger, all her resentment. Suddenly this woman was the source of all their troubles, and with one twist of her wrist, she would be gone. It would be so easy. The woman's flesh was soft and pale and would part easily before the razor-sharp blade.
Benjin grabbed Catrin's arm and pulled the knife away from the woman's throat, but he got no gratitude. The woman pulled another blade from her belt, and they all stood in suspense, assessing one another.
"Please, both of you. We can solve this peacefully. Put the blades away. Shedding each other's blood will help no one," Benjin said.
His words penetrated the haze of fury that still gripped Catrin. With obvious reluctance, she reversed the blade and handed it back to the woman, who seemed surprised.
"Now let us begin again. I'm Benjin Hawk," he said, and the woman's eyes grew wide again. "And this is Catrin Volker, daughter of Elsa Mangst."
His words might as well have been a physical blow for the effect they had on the woman. She fell back against the far wall, and her breathing became rapid. Catrin was shocked by his honesty.
"By the gods, it's true. Isn't it?" she asked with a hysterical glance at Catrin.
"He speaks the truth," Catrin said, and it was as much an accusation against Benjin as it was an affirmation. The woman sat down heavily and stared at them as if they were beyond explanation.
"You don't mean to kill me," the woman said, making it more a statement than a question, but Catrin felt the need to respond nonetheless.
"We never intended you any harm, but you certainly scared us," she said, and she was surprised to see the woman relax a bit and actually sheathe her blades.
"I am Millicent, maid to the Lady Mangst," the woman said, and now it was Benjin's turn to appear shocked.
"Millie? I didn't even recognize you."
"You need not tell me the years have been unkind; I am aware, but they've touched you as well," Millie said.
"You know each other?" Catrin asked.
"It's been many years," Benjin began before Millie cut him short.
"Since you and that scoundrel, Wendel, stole Elsa away from us."
"After all these years, you are still shortsighted, I see," Benjin said, but Millie ignored him.
"Let us speak no more. This matter should be taken up with the lady, not her lowly servant. I'll arrange for passage to Ravenhold. Be warned, if you try to escape, I'll have you hunted down and killed. Do I make myself clear?"
"You do, but your threats are unnecessary and insulting," Catrin said with an arch look, daring the woman to question her integrity again. Millie gave her a sidelong glance but said no more. Instead, she walked out the door, leaving them alone.
"This is not going to go well," Benjin said almost to himself.
"I assume my family will not be happy to see me?"
"Or me," he said, shaking his head.
"Well, let them be unhappy. I've no intention of staying long. You don't think they'll try to stop me, do you?"
"I don't know, li'l miss. I'd hoped to avoid them completely. They're not fond of me to begin with, and I have no idea how they will react to you, but I doubt they'll welcome you. Your mother's family are not the most forgiving people I've ever met."
Catrin asked him no more questions, knowing he would not have the answers. She supposed she would just have to take it up with the Lady Mangst-whoever that was. It bothered her a great deal that she didn't know, yet she decided not to ask. She would find out soon enough.
The room began to feel very small as she paced back and forth, and the air felt thick and heavy, as if she were breathing water. She did not know how long Millie had been gone, but it seemed like days, and when she finally returned, Catrin's patience was lost to her.
"We must leave at once," Millie said. "I was not to return for three more days, but this'll not wait. I've arranged a carriage for you. It waits in front of the inn. Come."
"Will you be joining us?" Catrin asked, uncertain of what exactly was taking place.
"I'll be traveling in a separate carriage, but they will travel together. So, yes, in a sense. Morif will act as your bodyguard and assure your safety."
In other words, Catrin thought, he would be their jailer, there only to make sure they did not try to escape. The fact bothered her greatly, but she put no voice to her misgivings, for she doubted it would do any good. Without another word, she and Benjin followed Millie from the inn.