by M. Gregg Roe
“Well?” asked Siljan, tossing the dagger aside and holding out her injured hand.
Rosalind rushed up but then hesitated, staring at the ugly contusion. Finally she put her small hands around Siljan’s injured one, pressing gently. “Recovery!” She closed her eyes as her hands began to softly glow.
“Start by probing to see what’s injured,” Siljan lectured, wishing that she hadn’t hit herself quite so hard. “Look at the bones, the muscles, the tendons, the veins, the nerves, the skin. Decide what needs to be healed first and don’t worry if you run out of energy. I’ve got plenty.”
“Okay.” The effort was causing Rosalind’s face to turn red. “There are two fractures and there’s some bleeding. Bleeding first.”
Siljan relaxed as the familiar feeling of warmth flooded her left hand and wrist. But she refrained from using her own magical senses to monitor what Rosalind was doing. When Rosalind finally pulled her hands away, there was only a small pink spot to mark where the pommel had struck. Siljan flexed her left hand, then nodded her approval.
Rosalind staggered over and sat down on her cloak. “I thought you were just going to cut yourself,” she complained.
“I wanted something more realistic and more difficult,” said Siljan as she also seated herself. “You did well, Rosalind. From now on, when someone in the temple complex has an injury, I want you to assist. The way to learn to heal injuries quickly and correctly is to practice.”
“Okay. What about curing disease?”
That was trickier. “The next time someone goes to Fisherton in their role as a priestess, you go along. Monitor how they cure diseases. It’s different, but I really can’t explain it.” As smart as Rosalind was, she would probably figure it out quickly.
On the way back, Siljan quizzed Rosalind about situations where magic wasn’t enough, like when a bone was badly broken or there was severe bleeding. Her answers were generally correct, but those were situations you really had to face at least once to say you knew how to handle them competently.
Cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, Siljan told Alessandra about her day. “As unorthodox as ever,” responded the woman. “Keep up the good work.”
Siljan planned to. Teaching Rosalind was rewarding. And it was hardly ever dull.
It startled Audrey when Ermiana started crying. “I just can’t do this!” she wailed. “I keep stabbing myself.” She held up her left thumb to show the drop of blood forming, then stuck it in her mouth.
The previous sewing lesson, where they had cut out the patterns from the fabric, had gone smoothly. This one was turning into a disaster. Audrey hadn’t wanted the girl to do anything beyond trying some simple stitches on cloth scraps. She was going to sew the shirt herself and then deliver it to Ermiana.
“Let’s take a break,” said Audrey, smiling at the teary-eyed girl who was still sucking on her thumb. “Would you like some juice?”
Ermiana removed her thumb from her mouth and examined it critically. Then she nodded.
Audrey led the way with Ermiana following quietly. The girl went straight to the dining nook, climbed up into a chair that was too big for her, and then stared out the window that looked behind the cottage. Audrey picked out two cups and filled them from a jug.
Ermiana took a small sip and then licked her lips. “What fruit is this?” she asked, staring into the cup.
“It’s a mixture of juices they sell at the daily market. They call it Mystery Juice, and they won’t tell you what’s in it even if you get down on your knees and beg. I know, because I’ve tried.” Her straight-faced delivery worked; Ermiana sat her cup down and began to giggle.
“It’s good,” she said, picking up her cup again. “I’ll ask Valura to get me some.”
Audrey picked up her own cup. “I wasn’t kidding about the secret part. They’re offering ten silver to anyone who can identify all of the ingredients, but it costs a copper to guess.”
After they had both finished drinking, Ermiana said, “That’s clever. It attracts customers, and a hundred wrong guesses will pay for the reward. Do you think they are playing fair?”
Audrey had wondered that herself, so she knew the answer. “They’re writing down everyone’s guesses. If no one has figured it out by the end of next month, then the money goes to whoever is closest.” It would even be split if there was a tie.
“And then they reveal the secret?”
“I’m not sure about that part, but they would probably have to.”
Ermiana’s adorable smile had returned. “I think that they’ll reveal it, keep selling it, and start a new contest with a different blend. It’s good business.”
It did sound that way. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
Ermiana’s face lit up. “Can we feed the fish?”
“Of course.” Audrey even had some stale bread that they could use.
Spring had nearly arrived, so they didn’t need to don cloaks. As they walked along the paths, Audrey began her lecture.
“Ermiana, all children your age are somewhat uncoordinated. I started when I was nearly twice your age, and I also got frustrated. It took me a long time to develop decent skills, and I’m still not that good.”
“But you’re better at sewing than most people, aren’t you?”
Audrey shrugged. “Probably. Most people only learn to do simple mending. Do you really want to learn to sew, Ermiana?”
Ermiana had a pained look as she repeatedly pursed her lips. “Yes,” she said finally. “I do want to learn, but there’s no point. It’s not something I need to know to rule this city.”
It made Audrey sad that a five-year-old girl was already worried about her future. “That’s true, but your mother just wants you to learn about skills and occupations. I think that’s a good thing.”
“Yes and no. I keep meeting people that have real freedom to choose the course their life takes.”
“And you’re envious?” Audrey brought them to a stop just short of the arched bridge that crossed the pond. “It’s not that simple. Most children end up doing what their parents do. It’s hard to change the life you are born into, and there are consequences.”
Ermiana frowned. “You’re referring to yourself?” she asked. “How you came to be living here?”
“Yes, but not just me. Cinda didn’t plan on becoming a courtesan.”
With a scheming look, Ermiana said, “That’s an occupation I haven’t studied yet.”
Audrey began to laugh as she imagined the girl casually mentioning it to her mother. And she probably would at some point.
They began to feed the fish, making a game of herding the colorful fish around. They were both giggling when Wilawin, the girl’s personal bodyguard, showed up to escort the girl back to her home.
The next day Audrey went to the daily market and was amazed to find that someone had solved the mystery and won the ten silver. The winner was Ermiana, and Audrey had never even heard of two of the fruits that were listed. That little girl had a bright future in front of her.
19
‡ Selling ‡
Draymund had barely slept last night. He had even thought about just giving up and heading over to the shop, but he didn’t want to risk waking Almera. After all the hard work and anticipation, the day had finally come. Today Witch’s City Weapons opened for business.
Not being able to open on the first day of Spring had turned out to be a blessing. That had been a day filled with cold rain and gusty winds, the kind of day where anyone who could simply stayed inside. But today, some nine days later, was like a blessing from the gods. Bright sunshine illuminated the crowd of at least forty people waiting outside for the doors to open.
It was no surprise to see Gabriel among those waiting. He and Peri were in their uniforms, presumably taking a break from their patrol. And they weren’t the only city guards. He also recognized several Novox employees. All of those were potential customers, but others in the crowd had probably shown up simply out of curiosity.
After c
hecking his uniform, he swept his gaze around the inside of the shop. The circular interior was divided into discrete wedges, all accessible from the tiled area in the center. Wooden railings ensured that visitors would start their shopping experience from the center, and that is where two clerks were standing at the moment.
The employee uniforms matched the shop’s dark green decor. Under the auspices of Marryn’s now-official business, Audrey and Hazel had selected the fabrics and created the design. He thought them quite smart-looking.
Standing in front of the office area that was opposite the front doors, he raised his right arm and nodded. Denis promptly walked forward, unlatched the doors, then pulled the left-hand one open. People began to stream in. The clerks in the center greeted them and pointed them in different directions. The three roving clerks, one of which was Saxloc, promptly moved to intercept some of them. It was all proceeding smoothly.
One of the last to enter the shop was a familiar figure. After glancing all around and brushing off an offer of assistance, she strode over to join him. “This is quite the place,” said Carlinda. “I like the area where people can actually shoot arrows at a target.”
“They can also shoot crossbows or try out throwing knives, but only under supervision.”
Draymund still hadn’t given up on trying to hire his old friend to work in the shop. Carlinda was both knowledgeable about weapons and good-looking, although her people skills would need some work.
Carlinda nodded. “I hope it’s a success, not that that really matters.”
Draymund resented the implication but maintained his friendly smile. “I’ll grant you that it will take some time to recoup my investment, but I expect the shop to eventually show a profit.”
“You do have quite a variety,” she said, frowning as she watched a stocky man several yards away swing a large sword in a figure-eight pattern. He definitely had the look of an experienced warrior.
“Some of our weapons are local, but many are imported, and not just from Zardis. We have elven bows and dwarven hammers. We also have a few weapons that have been magically hardened.” It was nice to have a wife whose father was a skilled wizard.
The stocky man had now picked up an even larger sword, displaying impressive strength as he tested it. He was probably a mercenary or guard-for-hire. More importantly, he was smiling as he spoke to Denis.
Carlinda ran a hand through her blond hair. “I heard that Celebern might be buying out your share of Novox.”
He wondered who had leaked the information. “We are still working out some of the details, but you heard correctly.”
“What are you going to do with the money? Gold-plate your mansion?”
Carlinda had always viewed anyone with excessive wealth as suspicious. “Almera is handling it.”
“Of course she is.” She nodded toward the stocky man. “Looks like you have a sale.”
That would earn Denis a nice commission. “Are you interesting in resuming your training of Saxloc?”
Carlinda’s steel-gray eyes were intent as she turned to face him. “He is never going to be the warrior you are. Do you really want me to continue to teach him?”
“Yes, and so does he. You are a better teacher than I am.”
“Because he’s not my son.” She raised her eyebrows. “Hagen and I have been looking at larger houses. Since you’re even richer now, I’m raising my fee.”
Draymund chuckled. “Is double sufficient?”
She couldn’t hide her surprise. “That will do. I’ll talk to Saxloc about it, but first I’m going to look at knives. You can’t have too many knives.”
Draymund made his way over to where Denis was now standing, observing a customer who was meticulously examining their selection of arrows. “Well done,” he said, smiling up at the young man. “Did he haggle?”
“Yes, but only slightly. I wrote everything down.”
Draymund casually pointed at Carlinda. “She’s a friend, and the wife of the Captain of the Witch’s City Guard.”
“So she gets a discount?” asked Denis earnestly.
“No, I am simply informing you. She probably won’t ever buy anything, but she is an expert when it comes to weapons.”
“I see. Just a moment.”
Draymund observed as Denis spoke with the customer. He answered the tall woman’s questions politely and didn’t pressure her to buy. The customer had a thoughtful look as she went over to examine the large display of bows, obviously considering a purchase. Draymund left Denis to it and walked back over to the office entrance. Witch’s City Weapons was off to a good start.
Who knew that working as a sales clerk could be so exhausting? Waiting for customers, helping customers, answering idiotic questions politely, preventing customers from hurting either themselves or others—it never seemed to end. And then there was smiling until his face hurt. Saxloc felt that he was definitely earning the money that he was being paid. Every day he worked, he arrived home thoroughly tired and went to bed early.
But it wasn’t all bad by any means. In some respects, selling was a game, especially since he had some leeway to bargain. Each sale he closed gave him a sense of real accomplishment, not to mention extra pay.
Noticing a young woman staring at a display of knives, he made his way over. She was a half-elf, but not a good-looking one. From the stern look on her face, he doubted that she smiled very often.
“May I help you?” he asked, maintaining a neutral expression as he inclined his head. “My name is Saxloc.”
She blinked in surprise. “Draymund’s son. You’re on the list.”
She obviously worked for Novox. The list was of people entitled to free use of Novox transportation and exempt from needing insurance. He suddenly remembered a comment his father had made recently. “You’re Clarissa, Celebern’s assistant.” And the woman whose mother Celebern had apparently fallen for. That had been a surprise.
“He’s having me learn how to fight with a knife.” She reached over and drew hers with her left hand. “The instructor said that this wasn’t good enough.”
Saxloc took it from her and examined it. The blade was of cheap steel and poorly made. The hilt was wood that had been painted black. It was basically worthless as a weapon. He put it down and selected one of the daggers on display.
“This is made from high-grade steel. It won’t tarnish, and it will hold a sharper edge than your current one. The hilt is wrapped in leather.” He handed it over hilt first.
After staring at it briefly, she waved it around in the manner of someone who had no idea of how to fight with a knife. But that really wasn’t surprising. Most people who carried knives only used them as tools, not weapons.
“How much is it?” She was frowning at the blade, holding it up in front of her face.
“Twenty silver, and that includes the sheath.”
“Okay. I’ll buy it. Do I pay you?”
Saxloc hesitated, remembering where Clarissa worked. He picked up another dagger and held it out. After carefully swapping the one she was holding for the new one, she held it up and frowned. “It’s not shiny.”
“That is by design,” he explained. “It is designed for stealth.”
“So it’s what a thief would use?” she asked scowling.
“Yes, and it’s two silver cheaper.”
“My future father-in-law is paying.” She scrunched up her face. “I like the shiny one. I’m not a thief.”
“I didn’t say that you were,” he returned, struggling to maintain his friendly expression. “I was just showing you another possibility.”
Clarissa’s face worked briefly. “Sorry. Can you show me the sheaths?”
After examining them both, she said, “I’ll take the stealthy one. The other one’s too gaudy.”
Before he could ask how she wanted to pay, she handed over a stack of silver pieces. Then she wanted to wear it, so he fastened the sheath to her belt and adjusted it. He offered to dispose of her old one, but she wanted t
o keep it for some reason.
“Who is your instructor?” he asked. If he didn’t recognize the name, he could always ask Hankin.
“His name is Bennet.”
Saxloc was startled. He didn’t know the man, but he recognized the name. He and his wife were now in charge of Xlee’s Martial Arts Academy. Celebern was sparing no expense. Thinking quickly, he said, “I’ve heard that he’s quite skilled.”
“He seems to be.” She finally showed a trace of a smile. “Thank you. I’ve got to get back to work.”
That evening Saxloc wrote out a letter to Rosalind, who had once worked at Sharp Edges, the weapons shop that had ultimately been destroyed by its crooked owner. She would be amused to hear that he was now working the same job.
Tobias turned the piece of paper around and slid it across the desk. “This is the first order for one of your dresses,” he said, then leaned back in his chair. They weren’t so much in an office as a storeroom in the back of Witch’s City Clothing that happened to have a desk and two chairs crammed into one corner.
Marryn looked it over. They had chosen Audrey’s design in a deep red color. The measurements were noted as well as an acknowledgement of the deposit. The other half was payable after the dress was delivered and deemed satisfactory by the customer. The name of the customer sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
“All right,” she said, folding the paper so that it would fit in a pocket. “I’ll get this to Hazel. It should be no problem getting it done in time.”
“Good, because she’s both a regular customer and a Priestess of Dukane.”
Marryn pushed back her chair. “Then I’ll take it over to Hazel now.” After Tobias let her out the back door, she went north down the alley and then headed east at a fast walking pace. It was a cloudy day, but it didn’t look threatening.
Tobias was beginning to feel like part of her family. He was a frequent dinner guest, and sometimes they all went over to dine at his house. It wasn’t at all what Marryn had expected to happen. She had thought that her mother would just have a brief fling with the man and then move on. Instead, the two of them were acting like a real couple. They had even gone on a trip to Rohoville together earlier that month.