‘There are things I need you to buy for me.’ Velindre sank on to the green velvet cushions and fought to stop her eyes from closing. ‘A heavy fur cloak, hat and gloves. Don’t think to fob me off with rubbish or to make me pay Toremal prices. Inglis is awash with fine furs at this season, with the trappers coming back from a winter in the mountains. I want a well-mannered saddle-horse hardy enough to take me up into the hills. It’ll need grain and I want food for a journey of ten days or so. The minimum, mind you; I don’t want the bother of a pack animal. Find me a warm blanket and an oilskin for good measure.’ She broke off as the hall lackey appeared with an obsequious smile and a brass oil lamp with a frosted glass chimney. The golden light warmed the chestnut wainscoting.
‘We’re nowhere near a thaw, my lady,’ objected Ken-in, shifting from foot to foot.
‘Did I ask for your opinion?’Velindre raised her brows at him in spurious enquiry. No, I thought not. Can you do what I want or does this lackey earn the commission I’m prepared to pay?’
The lackey’s eyes brightened.
‘I can do it for you,’ Ken-in assured her hurriedly.
‘Leave me your belt.’ She pointed at the tooled leather strap cinching his sheepskin tight to his waist. ‘My lady?’ He was confused.
‘Leave it or just leave,’ she said coldly. ‘As long as I have something of yours, I can find you with my magic. In that case, I’ll trust you with my gold. If not, you can be on your way and this lackey can see to my needs.’
The lackey suddenly looked rather less than eager.
The boy chewed lips chapped from the long winter cold. ‘All right.’ He slowly unbuckled the belt and laid it on the round table in the middle of the room.
‘What’s your business here, my lady mage?’ asked the lackey fawningly as he stirred the banked fire and added fresh logs from the basket.
None of your concern,’ she told him crisply, fighting the weariness threatening to tighten across her brow into a headache. ‘I shall be on my way before nightfall as long as this boy can find me a horse and provisions. Until then I want some peace and privacy. Provide it and you’ll be handsomely paid.’ She turned her attention to Ken-in and held out a handful of weighty gold coins. ‘Waste your time and mine idling with your cronies and you’ll regret it.’ She glanced at the lackey. ‘I shall want a shallow bowl of cold water and some ink for scrying after the boy.’
‘Yes, mistress.’ The lackey took his opportunity to depart.
‘I’ll be quick as I can, my lady.’ Kenin ran a finger around the inside of his collar, sweat beading his forehead.
‘Your tisane, madam.’ The maid Ametine nudged the door open with an elbow, a heavy wooden tray balanced on her other hip. She set it on the table and the tall silver jug breathed a puff of steam. Her eyes widened at the sight of the gold Kenin was tucking inside his glove. ‘Can I blend you a tisane, my lady?’ She smiled eagerly, brushing her hands on her skirts. ‘We have borage and chamomile, linden, dog rose, valerian—’
‘A scant spoonful of dog rose,’ Velindre inten-upted, ‘with just a touch of chamomile and the same of valerian.’ She snapped her fingers to regain Ken-in’s wandering attention. ‘When you’ve found a suitable horse, bring it here. I’m not paying up till I’ve seen it for myself.’
The maid spooned dried herbs into a hinged ball of pierced silver, setting it in a tall glass with a silver holder and pouring in hot water. ‘Honey, my lady?’
‘Thank you.’ Velindre nodded before fixing Kerrin with a penetrating stare. Well, what are you waiting for?’
Ametine brought the tisane over, ducking a curtsey. Will that be all, my lady?’
‘A bowl of plain water,’ Velindre said again, ‘and some ink.’
Kerrin’s shoulders flinched as he left the room.
‘At once, my lady.’ Ametine bobbed her way backwards to the door and disappeared.
Velindre blew the steam from her drink and sipped it carefully. Grimacing at the heat, she cooled it with a breath of enchanted air. That was better. Now she had better get some rest, if she was to be out of the city by nightfall. There might not be many mages who could travel such a distance with a single translocation spell but she was no more immune to the draining effects of working such magic than any other wizard. Careful to keep her boots off the cushions, she drank down the tisane and set the glass cup on the floor. Lying back against the padded headrest of the day bed, she let her eyes drift closed as she waved a hand at the door. The lock snicked and vivid blue light ran around the frame before vanishing into the wall. Velindre was already asleep. A tentative knock at the door stirred her.
‘My lady?’ It was the maid Ametine.
Velindre woke at once and was pleased to find that she was well refreshed. She was less well pleased to see that the winter sun had already quit the sky outside, leaving only its golden afterglow on high, pale clouds. ‘Come in.’ She waved a hand and the door unlocked itself, swinging open.
Watching it with some misgiving, Ametine hovered on the threshold with a tray holding ewer, bowl and snowy towel.
Velindre realised belatedly that no one had brought her water and ink for scrying. Was she going to need it?
‘He’s back, the boy,’ the maid stammered. ‘With two horses.’
‘Is he? Come in, girl.’ Velindre swung her feet to the floor and stood up, shrugging discreetly to ease uncomfortable rucks in the chemise beneath her bodice and skirt. ‘I wonder, is there a man born who can do exactly what he’s asked, no more and no less?’
‘Sure I don’t know, my lady.’ Ametine offered a hesitant smile, setting the tray down on the table. Velindre carefully washed the sleep from her eyes and dried her face. ‘I wonder what he’s brought for my gold. Where is he?’
‘Out the back, my lady.’ The maid bobbed an uncertain curtsey.
‘Let’s go and see.’ Velindre found her gloves and rebuckled her bag. ‘My cloak, if you please.’ She left the boy’s belt on the table. Let him ask for it back, if he had the nerve.
‘This way, my lady.’ The maid led the way through the kitchen passages to the Rowan Tree’s extensive stable yard, collecting Velindre’s brushed cloak from a peg as they went. The lackey she’d encountered earlier was nowhere to be seen but Ken-in was waiting on the swept cobbles, a horse’s reins in each fist. He grinned widely as Velindre appeared in the doorway. ‘Here we are, madam mage.’
‘Good evening to you.’ A dour-faced man was standing nearby, muffled up against the cold. ‘These are your beasts?’ At the man’s nod, Velindre set down her bag and pulled on her cloak, considering the animals in the light of the lamps already lit around the stable yard. Both were unrelieved brown with black manes, their forelocks falling over blunt, undistinguished faces. Heavy-set beasts, they were none too tall in the shoulder but deep in the body and thick in the leg. Their rugged coats ran down to feathery wisps falling over wide, black hooves shod with sturdy steel.
Velindre walked forward and held out a hand for the first to sniff It shied away from her, a rim of white around its dark, liquid eyes. Velindre turned to the other horse, which sniffed the fur-lined kidskin without reaction, shifting its hooves with a grating noise. Velindre rubbed her hand down the horse’s thick neck and felt it quiver beneath her as the animal nosed forward, ears pricking.
‘Good lad,’ she soothed as she pulled off a glove, bending to run her hand down the front of his foreleg. With wizard senses to augment her touch, she could be certain there was no heat or swelling in the leg. At her prompt, the horse lifted his sturdy hoof for her inspection. After checking all four legs and feet, Velindre stood upright and rubbed the animal’s velvety muzzle with a smile for the obliging animal. ‘I’ll try this one,’ she said to the horses’ owner.
‘As you like,’ said Ken-in readily. ‘This one’s a bit flighty, I’ll grant you, but he won’t give me bother.’ Velindre looked quizzically at him. ‘I don’t recall offering to buy you a horse.’