He spotted a few places where blacksmith’s worked but one glance at their wares and he knew he could put them all out of business. They were mediocre blacksmiths, producing poor quality merchandise, focusing more on quantity rather than quality.
He was filthy from the ride, weary, and his beard needed a trim but still he managed a few admiring glances from some women in the street. “Once you are bathed and shaved you will have your pick.” Keegan growled, cutting his eyes at Ronan’s grinning face.
“A shave?” Ronan scratched at his beard.
“Definitely,” Ula nodded with agreement. “Women want an animal in bed…not on the face of the man they are looking at.” Her words caused Ronan to blink. His head snapped around and he looked at her but her attention was on a booth of herbs.
“And since when does an old crone know anything of what a woman wants or doesn’t want?” Keegan was equally amused as Ronan with the Ula’s comment.
She shrugged without looking at either of them. “I was a woman once.”
“I’ve had a beard for more years than I haven’t,” Ronan argued. “It would be hard to part with it.”
Arien stumbled, nearly tripping when one young maid smiled his way and Ronan joined in with Keegan’s laughter. The boy flushed and ducked his head but smiled back at her none-the-less.
“It is time for us to part ways. I have merchandise to sell. Thank you for the ride, Sir.” Mikel the Hort turned to Ronan. “I pray you reach Merisgale safely and with no more obstacles.” His large eyes reflected the sincerity of his words and Ronan inclined his head.
“You are not sneaking away to sell anything that belonged to us?” Keegan asked but there was no suspicion in his eyes or threat in his voice. Ronan noticed that reaching Fullerk had lightened all their moods.
“If I were, I would sell your foul mood to the first muler I came across.”
Keegan turned to look down at the changeling but Mikel was gone, disappeared safely into the crowds. “Too bad. I was starting to like the little guy.” Keegan faced Ronan and opened his mouth to say something else but his eyes caught and followed a woman in the crowd.
“Dragon’s blood,” Ronan whispered as he too turned to watch the woman pass. Black hair that curled down her back, tapering down to her slim waist. But there was nothing else slim on the woman. She had curves exactly where she was supposed to and they were barely clad. A sword hung across her back and her boots laced nearly to the knee. Ronan’s mouth watered.
“I fear we are too old for that one.” Keegan stood, arms crossed, watching the woman’s dark locks disappear in the sea of heads.
“Speak for yourself. She was no child and certainly not an innocent.” Ronan nearly went after her. He hadn’t much experience but he was not a fumbling boy either. He did know what to do with a woman.
“Not with that body,” Keegan agreed. Ronan rubbed at his beard.
“Perhaps I will shave this mess off.” He grinned when Keegan chuckled.
“It can be nothing but an improvement.”
“I hope you mean to clean up a bit yourself.” Ronan wrinkled his nose. “Ahearn has a better smell than you.” The horse blew out his breath as if to agree and both men laughed together.
Four hours of hard work at one of the local smiths, a bath, and a clean shave later, Ronan stepped back into the street. Darkness had found the sky but torches lit the way for those still bustling about. Nighttime brought a different atmosphere than the day and Ronan liked it.
An odd mixture of melodies drifted in the air, each song winding from a different place and wrapping around one another. The aroma of food swept around them mixing with the sound of boisterous laughter and the hum of people’s voices. It all seemed to charge the air and Ronan breathed it in deeply.
A loud whistle and applause brought his attention around to the side of the tavern where he’d obtained a room. Keegan and Arien stood with lopsided grins. Keegan whistled again.
“Who would have thought there was a man under all that fur?” Keegan’s voice slurred slightly, indicating he’d already begun to enjoy the privileges of being in town. Arien swayed a bit himself, arm wrapped around the very young woman who had smiled at him earlier. She laughed lightly and whispered something in the boy’s ear.
Ronan’s eyes swept out at the street, searching the bodies for one in particular.
“She is across the street. I saw her go in there about half an hour ago,” Keegan called, bringing Ronan’s attention back to him. “She didn’t even look at me but then I was already entertaining two other lovelies at the time.” The horseman winked and lifted a mug of ale to his lips.
Ronan nodded his appreciation and set out across the street, smoothing down his coat. Beneath it, a sword of white metal swung heavily in the sheath he had bought earlier.
He entered the tavern across from the one he was staying and his eyes slipped over those who sat drinking and talking loudly with one another. No sign of her. His eyes drifted to the stairs and before he could question himself, he moved forward. At the top of the stairs he rounded the wall into the corridor and ran head first into the woman he’d come looking for.
“Forgive me,” Ronan murmured, reaching to steady her. His fingers brushed the bare skin of her waist. Her soft skin glowed golden in the light of the candles that lit the corridor. He didn’t let his hand linger. He certainly didn’t want to scare her off.
“My fault entirely. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She answered without smiling but Ronan would not miss his chance. And he would do his best.
“Then I am glad I was here, otherwise you would have gone tumbling down the stairs.” He smiled broadly and for a moment the woman just stared at him. Then slowly, she smiled back.
“Do you live here in Fullerk?” She asked.
“Only for the next day or so.” Ronan shook his head. “Just passing through.” Her smile wavered but didn’t disappear completely.
“Which way did you come from?”
“And here I thought you were smiling at me because you found me witty and charming.” Ronan sighed. “I am traveling south. What is it you need?”
“How do you know I need anything?” She tilted her head.
“Because you haven’t kissed me yet and still you are standing here.” Ronan shrugged. “You need something.”
Her smile widened again and she nodded. “Yes, I do. I’m actually looking for a blacksmith.” His brow rose as she continued. “One in particular. His name is Ronan Culley. You didn’t happen to have passed him on the road to Fullerk did you?”
Ronan forced himself not to stiffen. Why would this woman be looking for him? How did she know his name? He was certain if he’d ever met her, he wouldn’t have forgotten her.
“No, I did not pass him on the road.” Ronan leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “But there are several blacksmiths here. Why the one called Culley?”
She sighed with disappointment. “I was told he would be here. Perhaps they stopped earlier for the night and will arrive tomorrow.” She wasn’t really talking to him, just thinking aloud. “I’ll give him a couple of days. If he doesn’t arrive by then I shall push north.”
“Sounds like a good plan. Do you have any for the days you wait?” Ronan watched her blink and look back at him.
“Do I have what while I wait?”
“Any plans?” Ronan grinned. “You know like a monstrosity for a husband who might bash in my head if I decided to spend a bit of time with you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you think I would spend time with you?”
“Because though you haven’t kissed me, you got the information you wanted and you are still standing here.” Ronan grinned when she laughed. He’d always been able to make a woman laugh. Even with the beard.
“What is your name?”
“I’ll be your blacksmith, Ronan Culley if you like.” He shrugged. “Thestian the wizard. Mikel the Hort…”