The streets were crowded with marketgoers scurrying about, their arms filled with baskets and bundles. One man went by with three chickens in his arms, squawking and flapping their wings. My horse shied a bit, which brought me dire looks from the men around me, but I brought it under control. I could tell that they hadn’t spent time in cities before, or at least cities the size of Water’s Fall. They were on alert, and on their guard, eyes taking in the crowds, the buildings crammed together, some leaning out over the streets. They were doing their best not to be overawed, but I could tell that they were impressed. Once in a while, one would wrinkle his nose at the smells, or start at a strange noise, but no one made a comment. We continued on without incident, moving past the army barracks by the Great South Gate. By now, word of our coming had spread, and there were folk lining the streets to see us. For the most part they were quiet, merely speaking among themselves as we passed. Needless to say, the dress drew its fair share of attention.
Finally, we arrived at the market. I pointed out Estoval’s shop. Keir dismounted, and gestured for me to follow. The others took up positions, clearing an area in front of the shop. Keir opened the door, and I followed, curious.
Thankfully, the fragrant shop was empty of customers. Es-toval turned to greet us and his mouth fell open.
I felt the heat rise in my face. Keir stared at the man, then looked at me for a long moment, eyes narrow. He opened his mouth, and took a breath to speak.
He grimaced then sneezed. Explosively.
That snapped Estoval out of his trance. “Warlord! How may I serve you?”
“Merchant, do you sell vanilla?” He pronounced the word slowly and carefully.
“Yes, Warlord, in many forms, although it is quite expensive. Did you want ground, whole beans, the oil? ”
“Yes.” Keir looked at me. “See to it.” He sneezed, then caught my eye with a flash of a grin that took my breath away. “Buy lots. Buy it all. And whatever else you need.” With a gasping wheeze, he headed for the door, his nose scrunched up against another sneeze. As he passed me, he slipped a purse into my hand. Then he ducked out of the shop, leaving me flushed and embarrassed.
Once Keir was out the door, Estoval relaxed a little, but I noticed that he kept an eye on the door. “ Warprize, you honor my shop.”
“Estoval, please. My name is Lara.”
His eyes darted to the door. “Not anymore, Daughter of Xy.” He gestured to his displays. “I have plenty of vanilla, even some scented soap, for no one is buying extravagances. But my stocks of other items are low. The Warlords supply master was here earlier, and bargained hard.” He shook his head. “Bargained hard and meanly.”
I suppressed a smile. Estoval started to gather up every kind of vanilla that he had on hand. I stopped, thinking for a moment, considering Keir’s words. He had said..
“Estoval, I need an apprentice to run an errand. Are any available?”
“Of course.” He raised his voice calling for a lad.
“And paper and pen, if I may?” He inclined his head. I wrote a quick note and in a moment a lad stood before me.
“Take these coins and run to the shop of Remn. You know it?”
“Of course, Lady.”
“Tell Remn I want two books. Used, mind, cheap as possible. The Epic of Xyson, and a reading primer. Give him this note. Be quick, and I’ll have a coin for you.”
The lad grinned and was off out the back of the shop. I turned back to Estoval, and we continued our business. I was well satisfied. Remn would have both books, especially the Epic. A hoary old saga of my ancestor’s heroic deeds. It was long, filled with battles, duels and the discussions of the virtues of various styles of weapons and armor. It was the bane of every child who learned their letters in Water’s Fall. Atira would love it. I could read it to her, or use it as incentive to learn to read my language.
The lad was as quick as I could ask. He returned with a bundle and the two books. I gave him a coin and asked Esto-val if I could use his back room for a moment. Once in that small area, I broke open the bundle.
Proper undergarments.
Bless Remn’s wife. She was about my size and had included two of each kind. I could trust their discretion in this. Goddess forgive me, but I was too embarrassed to talk to Keir or Marcus about these items of clothing. I dressed quickly, feeling better able to face whatever was to come. When I emerged, I thanked Estoval, who handed me a small parcel, bowed me out and locked the door behind me. I had been awhile, and oddly enough the street was almost completely clear. Which made sense to a degree. Those that could not attend the Court for the ceremony would observe in their own homes, as part of the evening meal.
Keir and Prest were already mounted. Rafe stood, holding my mount and his. “Are you finished?” Keir asked, trying to hide his impatience and failing miserably. “I have sent the others before us.”
“Yes.” I tucked my two packages into my saddlebag and moved to mount my horse. As I swung my leg up, the horse shied and moved away from me, causing me to lose my balance. I dropped back to the ground.
So the lance passed over my head, instead of hitting my chest.
Chapter 7
“Lara, DOWN!”
I barely had time to register what had happened before Keir somehow swept me back. His hands forced me down, against the wall of the shop. I fell to my knees as the horses danced about in confusion. The air filled with shouts, cries of frustration, and the clatter of hooves on cobblestones.
“Stay down.” Keir hissed, as he turned and pulled his swords. I looked up to see the horses flee and Keir, Rafe, and Prest use those precious seconds to take positions, sheltering me in their half-circle. The attackers came charging from the shadows, a hodgepodge of ruffians, shields at the ready, weapons high.
“Death to the—” The lead man never finished his cry. Keir smashed through his defenses and plunged into the man’s chest in one quick stabbing motion. I could hear the sound of steel on bone as he pulled the blade free. With fierce quickness, he struck at another, who barely deflected the blow with his blade.
Prest held his shield up tight, absorbing blows from his two sword-wielding attackers. He waited, patient, then darted in with his sword to take quick strikes when they left themselves open.
Rafe was barely holding his own against his opponent. A big man, armed with an enormous club, was battering at his shield, striking it with heavy, powerful blows. Rafe took the blows, but each time, his shield went lower. Finally the giant struck with such force that Rafe’s shield came down, hitting Rate’s forehead. Sensing this weakness, Keir feinted a rushing attack on his remaining opponent. As the man stepped back, Keir turned and drove one blade deep into Rafe’s opponent. The man gave a grunt as it slid in easily. Keir’s attention focused back on his own enemy before the body fell from the blade.
There was a cry, a clatter, and another man emerged from the shadows, pulling a mace from his belt. He launched himself at Rafe.
I pressed against the wall, trying to stay small and out of the way. The Watch should have come running by now, but the street remained empty, with no sound of a hue and cry. The only sounds were those of clashing weapons, heavy breathing, and boots looking for purchase on the surface of the street.
With two down, the remaining attackers shifted their focus. Prest now had one opponent. Two pressed Keir. Rafe faced one as well.
It proved to be a mistake. Prest bashed at his opponent with his shield, driving the man back, ramming him hard enough to get him off-balance. With a step forward, Prest snaked his sword out around the edge of his shield and plunged it into his opponent’s ribs. As his man went down, I assumed Prest would aid Keir. But he stayed in position, scanning the street, keeping his place.