While much of what Grinsa told him about mind-bending power was true, this last was not. He had no doubt that he could use his magic on the man precisely enough to avoid hurting him. But he didn't want to use it at all.
"So rather than risking an injury that might leave you permanently addled," he went on, "you might want to consider whether it wouldn't just be better to admit that you're lying, sell us the horses, and be rid of
us for good." He let go of the farrier's throat and stepped back. "Fine then," the man muttered. "Ya can have th' damn horses." "So your son can hear."
"Ya can have th' horses," he said again, loudly this time.
"The dun and the bay."
"Yeah, th' dun an' th' bay."
"And what was the price?"
Dren exhaled through his teeth and looked away. "Twelve."
"That's the amount you and Captain Dungar agreed to, isn't it?"
"Yeah, we agreed t' twelve."
"But, Pa," the boy called from beside the two beasts, the plow horse positioned in front of him like a sentry. "Ya said-"
"Joost shut up and bring th' beasts here."
The young man did as he was told, leading the two horses to where his father was standing. Grinsa pulled his pouch free and counted out twenty-five qinde. He held out the coins to the boy, who glanced at his father, as if unsure of what to do.
"Take th' money," Dren said sullenly. "An' give 'im th' beasts." Once he had the reins in hand, Grinsa nodded to the farrier. "Thank you, Dren. I've enjoyed doing business with you."
"Git out," the man said. "An' I wouldn' linger in town too long if I was ya." He bared his teeth in a grin. "It might no' be safe."
Grinsa had started to walk away, but he stopped now, and with no more than a thought, he lit the man's apron on fire. Letting out a cry at the sight of the flames, Dren threw himself to the ground and rolled back and forth until they had been extinguished.
"White-hair bastard!" he growled, looking up at the Qirsi, smoke rising from his clothes.
"I wouldn't set foot outside your shop until we've cleared the city gate," Grinsa told him. "That wouldn't be safe."
They led the horses out of the paddock and into a narrow alley behind Dren's shop. From there, they made their way back onto the main avenue and into the city marketplace, where they hoped to buy a pair of saddles.
"How long do you think it will be before he comes after us?" Cresenne asked, as they searched the market for a saddler.
"Not long at all. But we won't stay any longer than it takes to buy some food and find a saddler. As far as I'm concerned we can buy the first saddles we see."
Yorl's marketplace was large, and difficult to navigate, but there were so many peddlers selling their wares that they soon found all that they needed. Before long, the horses were saddled, their travel sack was filled with dried fruits, salted meat, and flat breads, and they were on their way to the city's west gate. Before they reached it, however, they spotted the farrier and his son searching the streets for them, accompanied by four of the city guards.
"Damn," Grinsa muttered.
"We bought the horses as agreed," Cresenne said, as if reassuring herself. "We did nothing wrong."
"Dren won't have said anything about the horses. He doesn't have to. I lit his apron on fire. That's why they're looking for us." He looked at her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it."
"I'm glad you did. I was ready to; you just beat me to it."
"So what do we do?" he asked.
She thought a moment, and as she did, Bryntelle let out a small cry. A smile crossed Cresenne's face, and then vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. "Leave this to me," she told him.
Grinsa only had time to nod before Dren spotted them, thrusting out an arm with a triumphant smile on his face. He led the guards and his son to where they stood, his long strides carrying him so quickly in their direction that the others had to run every few steps to keep up with him.
"That's 'im!" the farrier said, stopping a few steps from them and looking back at the uniformed men. "That's th' Qirsi who tried t' burn me!"
"Is tha' true?" one of the guards asked, staring hard at Grinsa.
"Actually, it's not," Cresenne said.
"What?" The farrier shook his head and looked at the guards. "She's lyin'!"
"I'm the one who did it. Not Grinsa." She held out her hand, palm up, and an instant later a bright golden flame jumped to life there. "As you see, I have fire magic." The fire died away and she lowered her hand. "I shouldn't have done it, I know, but he threatened us and I I… I feared for my child." Remarkably, a tear slid down her face. Grinsa nearly laughed out loud at the sight of it. "You have to understand," she went on, her voice trembling slightly. "We're strangers to your land. And you all seem to hate our kind so much. And then this man threatened us that way. I just didn't know what else to do. I'm so sorry."
"I tell ya, she's lyin'! Ya can' believe a word she says, or 'im neither!" "You didn't threaten us?" Grinsa said. "You didn't tell us that it wouldn't be safe if we chose to linger in the city?"
"Did ya say tha' t' them?" the guard asked.
"No!" the farrier said.
It seemed that the guard knew Dren well enough not to believe him. He just eyed the man for several moments, saying nothing.
"Yeah, all righ'," Dren admitted. "I said it."
“Why?”
"They stole those beasts from me!"
"What?" the guard said. "Why didn't you mention that before?"
"Because it's not true!" Cresenne said, indignant now. "We paid him the equivalent of twelve sovereigns. Twenty-five qinde in Forelands money. He might even have the coins with him now."
Dren's hand strayed to his pants pocket. "It's less 'an they's worth!" he said, before the guard could demand that he produce the money. "They practic'ly stoled 'em from me! They threatened me wit' their magic! Th' boy will tell ya!"
"He'll also tell you, as will the captain of the Fortune Seeker, that twelve sovereigns was the price he agreed to."
The guard waved both hands and shook his head. "I don' care 'bout any o' this. It's no' my place t' git ya a better price fer yar beasts, Dren." He looked first at Grinsa, then at Cresenne. "Ya should be on yar way. This is no place fer yar kind." He started away, gesturing for the other guards to follow.
"I oughta kill ya both where ya stand!" the farrier said, his fists clenched.
The guard stopped and took a step back in their direction. "I heard tha', Meigen. Ya're lucky I don' put ya in th' gaol straightaway. Now git back t' yar shop an' leave them be!"
At first the farrier didn't budge, and Grinsa readied his magic, just in case. Finally, though, the man shook his head and started to walk away. "Come on, then," he called to his son. "They's no' worth th' trouble." Grinsa and Cresenne didn't move until they'd watched the two of them cross the marketplace and disappear around a bend in the road. Once they were certain that the farrier was no longer a danger, they started toward the gate again, climbing the steep road that led past the fortress. "How did you do that?" Grinsa asked her as they rode.
The hint of a smile touched Cresenne's lips. "Do what?"