This was getting annoying. No, it had gotten annoying already. She had begun to lose her patience with him.
Twice now, she had gotten close to someone who had hinted he might know a Shin'a'in or two-and twice, it had come to nothing. The Clansmen were proving incredibly elusive.
"Alas, you should have been here in the spring," said the folk in the fabric bazaar. "They are only here in the spring. But I have some fine Shin'a'in rugs, and you couldn't get a better bargain on them from a Clansman herself..."oh, you should wait until the fall," said the horse traders. "They never come here except in the fall. Now, I have some outstanding Shin'a'in saddle mares...
"Well, they were just here," said the shepherds, in a dialect so thick she could scarcely make out what they were saying. "Tale'sedrin, you say? That's the blonds, no? Ah, you just missed them; here last week, they were, buying up them new long-haired goats." Here last week, here last season, not here yet-the herders were the closest she had gotten; at least they knew that Kero's Clan had a number of blond members, legacy of Kero's grandmother Kethry.
But the Shin'a'in were proving horribly hard to find. It seemed that no matter where she went, they had either been and gone, or they had not yet appeared.
"Cakes yesterday, cakes tomorrow, but never cakes today," she muttered to herself, keeping one eye on Skif as she paid for the leather pouch and attached it to her belt. Clever pouch; well worth having, with a catch designed to foil pickpockets, and a belt loop with woven wire glued between two layers of leather, to outwit cutpurses.
Well, she wasn't going to get anywhere today. The leather market was as empty of contacts as any other. It was time to try something else.
But before she did that, she was going to have to deal with Skif. Before he drove her to give him a bloody nose.
The crowds hadn't thinned any; sometimes she wondered what they were all doing here, they couldn't all be selling to each other, or there wouldn't be anyone in the booths. But there were smaller merchants who had no booths, picking up bargains for the luxury trade; there were plenty of people who seemed to be here just to shop and enjoy themselves.
Kata'shin'a'in seemed to provide a kind of ongoing Fair that lasted for months. The security provided by the discreet bazaar guards encouraged folk to wear their finery and indulge themselves. She headed back to the inn with her other purchases, fruit and cheese and fresh bread, in a string bag at her side. She moved through the crowd briskly, at a fast walk, taking Skif by surprise so that she managed to lose him around a corner.
Well, while he had been busy following her, she had been paying attention to the layout of the bazaar. She took a shortcut through the saddlers, coming out in the midst of the rug sellers; from there it was a another skip across to the food vendors. She stopped just long enough to buy a parchment bag full of sugared fried cakes; her nose caught the scent and she discovered she couldn't resist the rich, sweet odor. Then she cut down the aisle of the scent sellers and from there, she strolled directly into the inn.
She unlocked the door of their room; and as she had expected, she had beaten him back. Since he was supposed to have been taking a nap" I wish you'd take me with you," Need said querulously, from beneath the bed. "It may be just a bazaar, but you know very well there are people who are out there looking for you." Wonderful. Another mother hen. "I can't take you with me," she said, trying to keep her patience intact. "It's bazaar rules; no long weapons in the bazaar, nothing longer than a knife, unless it's a purchase, and then it has to be wrapped up.
:You could carry me wrapped,: the blade suggested hopefully :there wouldn't be any problem then.:
"Then you'd do me about as much good as a stick," she snorted. less; you're not much good as a stick, you're too awkward and[ not long enough." Before the sword could retort, there was a sound of a key in the door, and it opened as soon as the lock disengaged.
"Welcome back," she said dryly.
"Uh. Hello," Skif said, first startled, then sheepish.
"I suppose you couldn't sleep, hmm?" She put her purchases on the rickety little table that was supplied with the room. "You know, there's a little story I've been meaning to tell you-I wonder if you've ever heard it? It's about Herald Rana and her old suitor from home." He shook his head, baffled.
"You're a cruel child," said Gwena.
"I'm getting tired of this," she replied.
"Herald Rana went back home for a visit last year, and a young Man who wouldn't give her a second glance back when she was the cheesemaker's daughter decided that she was the most wonderful woman he'd ever seen." She shrugged. "It might have been the Whites, it might have been that she'd matured quite a bit since the last time he saw her.
It really doesn't matter. He followed her back to Haven and then out on her circuit. He got to be such a nuisance that she decided to do something about him. So the next time he came up behind her in a market and put his arms around her, she put him to the ground." She raised one eyebrow at him. "That wasn't enough for him, apparently, because he kept following her, but at a distance. So she waited until he followed her out into the forest when she went to hunt a little fresh meat." She paused, significantly.
"Well?" Skif finally responded.
"She ambushed him and planted an arrow right between his legs. I'm given to understand that she came close enough to his assets to shave them." Skif gulped.
"I trust you take my point." She turned away from him, drew her knife, and lopped off the tip of the cheese roll with an obvious enthusiasm that made him wince. She stabbed the piece and offered it to him.
He declined.
"You are a very cruel child." Gwena sounded more amused than accusatory.
Very practical," Need retorted, with a chuckle.
"Very weary," she replied to both of them. And took the cheese herself.
"Let's hope he gets the point-before I have to give it to him." The sword and Gwena joined in laughter. "oh, I think he did," Gwena chuckled. "I'll have a talk with Cymry and see if she can't have a word with him."
"She'd better do something," Elspeth replied grimly. "Or I will. And this time, Herald or not, I'll be more direct."
Priests and other religious travelers had their own special camping ground reserved for them away from the bazaar, on top of a rise. Shaman Kra'heera shena Tale'sedrin looked out over the crowded tents of the bazaar from his vantage point above it and smiled a little. Somewhere down there was a young woman, accompanied by a tall young man, who was looking for them.
Not them, specifically. just the Tale'sedrin. Since he and Tre'valen had arrived late this afternoon, no less than four traders had come strolling up to their tent with the casually proffered information that someone was looking for Tale'sedrin.
To each of those four, Kra'heera had said nothing. He had simply gone about his business of raising their tent. His apprentice, Tre'valen, had thanked them politely, but when he had shown no further interest in the subject, the four had strolled onward, ostensibly to visit some other tent dweller farther on. But Kra'heera read the set of their shoulders, and knew that they went away disappointed because he had not been interested in buying the rest of their information. There was as much traffic in information in the bazaars of Kata'shin'a'in as there was in material goods.