Touched By Magic (The King's Wolf Saga)

by Doranna Durgin

  Reandn sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. He'd give anything to have Saxe sitting across the table, his broad form solid and capable, his quick mind spilling out solutions for the two to pick from—and his even disposition tempering Reandn's fiery nature.

  Ania brought his dinner—red meat after all—and though he ate slowly, he had no trouble putting the last of it away. Nor did he have trouble with the thought of raising his feet back up and spending the rest of the afternoon in this airy, shaded place. He was even secure enough, in this corner, to doze.

  His eyes snapped open to the sight of the serving girl sitting down opposite him, eyeing him as though trying to figure something out. She smiled at him. "Don't mind me," she said. "It's quiet time. I get a break."

  He raised an eyebrow at her. "You didn't come to tell me I'm taking up valuable space?"

  "This time of day?" she scoffed. "Besides, you look like you need the rest more than we need the space."

  "Thank you," he said. "I think."

  She shrugged. "You've got to be careful in this heat. Especially if you had a quick trip down here, and didn't have time to get used to it on the way."

  Reandn laughed outright. "Yes," he said, at her puzzled expression, "it was a quick trip, all right."

  Before she could ask him the inevitable follow-up question, he said, "I've heard there's a market at the edge of the town. Does it have stock?"

  "Horses, you mean?" she asked, the expression on her gamine face answering affirmative, but also showing skepticism. "But I wouldn't buy there unless you've a real good eye. The good animals get shipped out with their owners."

  It was Reandn's turn to shrug. "Can you aim me in the right direction?"

  "I'll do better than that," she offered, her face brightening. "I want to go, myself, after Kelton shuts down for the evening. You can escort me, if you like."

  Reandn scratched the back of his heel with the big toe of his other foot. "Maybe I'm someone you want to be protected from."

  Amusement filled her lively face; she smoothed the back of her dark, sun-reddened hair in a relaxed gesture. "I'll bet you your next meal that I can out-run you."

  "I'd take that bet," Reandn said mildly. "But you're safe enough. I'd be glad to escort you to the market if you'll keep me from getting lost."

  "Good," she said, slapping the table lightly to seal the deal as she stood up. "Unless you've got pressing business this afternoon—and no one around here does business during the heat of the day unless it's pressing—you're welcome to stay right here. Take an evening meal, and you'll feel better. Good enough, even, to put the eye to some of that questionable stock."

  Reandn raised an eyebrow. "You this nice to all the men Hurley hassles?"

  "All of them," Ania said firmly. "Even the ones that don't look like they've just washed ashore after a storm." She gave him a grin as she left.

  Reandn shook his head—maybe he'd figure her out, maybe not. Then he closed his eyes again, more than willing to avoid the hot afternoon streets of Maurant. He'd try for a job at the market; failing that, the docks would be waiting for him tomorrow.

  The evening meal he paid for. Afterward, Ania cheerfully gave over the customers to the other waiting girl and led him out into the street, chattering about the spate of recent robberies on the evening roads, and how glad she was for an escort. Hurley, who'd gone off during the afternoon, had returned to give Reandn an unpleasant look of farewell; Reandn sent it back at him. He half expected to find Tanager on his tail again, but the boy seemed to have given up.

  Or so Reandn thought, until they made it to the market, a scant mile or so from the Unicorn, and he discovered the boy had made it there ahead of him.

  Reandn had stopped at the edge of the sprawling market, a haphazardly arranged area plopped down where one of Maurant's main roads turned into a highway. At his elbow, Ania gave him a smile and sailed off into the fray, quite willing to brave the milling crowds if not a lonely road.

  Ignoring the lure of canopy-protected stalls that sheltered loud merchants with their claims of superior journey foods, weapons, maps, and fine luxury gifts, Reandn merely watched for a time. There were no Locals in evidence, but plenty of men and women lounging around with weapons visibly displayed and don't-cross-me smiles on their faces. Guards-for-hire.

  At last, above the dramatic noise of bartering, he heard the squeal of an annoyed horse. He skirted the market to the source and found three stock dealers and a circular set of hitching rails.

  It was there he'd found Tanager.

  If the boy had any notion Reandn was there, he didn't care. Reandn kept a stream of traffic between them, watching the boy take a coin after fetching one of the horses, tightening its girth and holding the stirrup out for the owner to mount. With that in mind, Reandn spotted a second child, a girl half Tanager's height, picking her way through people and horses to lead a huge sorrel half-draft to its owner. Neither of them noticed as he eased through the crowd to the stock dealers.

  Two of the dealers professed to have high quality horseflesh, and they were quoting prices to suit. The third made no such pretensions and it was here Reandn stopped, hoping to catch something of worth among the culls...without luck.

  Wolf's Rights meant he could commandeer any of the horses—but in this area, he'd be surprised if anyone had heard of Wolf's Rights, and more surprised if it didn't cause a reactionary fuss that would reach all the way to King's Keep—again, alerting Ronsin. The same with boots and supplies—all of which would cause enough of a ruckus, he imagined, to make Savill confine him under guard until confirmation of his status came from King's Keep.

  The temptation lingered; his gaze roamed over the horses, sorting, choosing.... No.

  That was Saxe's voice, strong in his ears. Don't commit to the trail until you've scouted out the terrain. All the trainees learned that cautionary phrase—and Saxe quoted it often enough at Reandn when he thought his First was letting his temper push him into precipitous action.

  Saxe was usually right.

  Fine. He'd give himself a day or two here; he'd try to understand the Southern way of things, and to pin down Savill's nature. Then, if it still seemed the thing to do, he'd claim Wolf Rights. Only then.

  Reandn took a deep breath, convincing himself, and was just as glad when a distracting flash of familiar color caught his eye—Ania, in the bright dress she'd donned after work.

  He lifted his hand to hail her, but she was, he suddenly realized, heading for Tanager. She waved at Reandn and turned to Tanager, resting her hand on his arm in a comfortable and familiar way. After a moment's discussion, she sent a surprised but quickly withdrawn look Reandn's way. Eventually she joined him, her expression uncertain at first.

  "See anything you like?" she asked. One of dealers sidled closer, ready to jump in at Reandn's slightest sign of interest.

  Reandn shrugged. "The bay looks sturdy enough," he said. The animal lacked a little flesh but was obviously in condition. It was, coincidentally, the same horse he'd just heard quoted at over three silvers. "Too bad about that scarred hock—it'll restrict his action. And white socks—don't like 'em. Makes for weak feet."

  "The gentleman from the North knows his horses," the dealer said, his tone pleasant enough. Ania moved aside to let him join the conversation, flashing a smile at Reandn as the game began. The man rubbed his jaw—a square-set feature turning to jowl. "Perhaps you'd like to try him. You'll find him a bold mover."

  "I don't need a bold mover. I need a horse that can travel," Reandn said, focusing behind the dealer on a horse from the other enclosure.

  The dealer essayed a shrug. "I was assured that he came at a steady pace from Talleda. As you can see, he's still in prime condition."

  Whatever the price, Reandn wouldn't have it, and he wasn't ready to claim Wolf's Rights here and now. The dealer said quickly, "Two silvers and a parscore for that bay, and he'll hit the road running."

  Reandn snorted. He wouldn't give that price for the bay, or
any other of the animals he here—not here in a port area, where horses were abundant and turn-over was high.

  The dealer affected an offended expression. "That's a fair price!"

  "Sure enough, but not for this horse." Reandn shook his head. "Perhaps we'll deal another day, friend—when you realize you can't get Northern prices from a man in the South."

  He walked away from the corrals with Ania picking her way through the inevitable hazards of a stock yard. Her expression was puzzled. "I don't think you'll get much better out of him," she said when they were out of earshot. "Plenty of people pass through here every day, and they're not able to wait for a good price."

  Reandn stopped before they entered the main body of the market, assessing the place—the people. True, there were plenty of men and women here, in all variations of groupings and social strata, and it seemed they were all readying to travel.

  There were also those who looked comfortably local, and a generous number of the guard whose ilk he'd seen upon entering the market—blatant, threatening, more often than not scarred. Unlike Hurley, these men relied on more than sheer muscle to see them through a confrontation.

  Reandn wondered if their presence was as necessary as all that.

  He found Ania watching him...waiting. "The horse won't move very fast," he said. "Maybe that scar doesn't interfere with its way of going, but it looks bad enough. Anyone who wants real travel isn't going to fool with it." He pushed his hair off his forehead and tilted his head back to catch the transient breeze twitching through the air. "By the time I go back and size the animal up a few times, he'll come down some."

  "Hunh," was Ania's only comment.

  "Did you find what you came looking for?" Reandn said, changing the subject and not caring that it wasn't subtle.

  Ania shrugged. "Things come and go around here—by the time you save the money for some little pretty, it's gone." She gave him a sideways glance from her light eyes. "Or some big pretty."

  A shrug of his own. "Ania, if I could pay his price, I'd have boots." He extended a foot and regarded it with a frown. Tough as they were, this day had been hard on them. "Maybe by the time I get some coins, we'll strike a bargain."

  Ania nodded, her thoughts momentarily somewhere else. "I don't see what your hurry is, anyway."

  Reandn gave her a sharp look. "Tanager's a chatty thing."

  She blinked, and hesitated—and must have decided to match his direct manner. "He didn't say all that much, actually. That you got here suddenly and he doesn't trust you—and that you don't want to be here."

  "But you came back to walk with me."

  Her mouth twitched. "Tanager's a good kid. But I gather you have a disagreement with Farren, and he'd do anything for his grandfather. He's hardly impartial."

  "No," Reandn said. "He's not." They were walking again, meandering. Reandn took note of a the supply pavilions, and puzzled again over the hard guards lingering around the wares—all the more more evident, now that the crowd was thinning out. "Ania, why all the muscle? They look like they'd eat horseshoe nails for breakfast if it would impress someone."

  "There's no need for that," she said. "People are plenty impressed already—and it's a good thing for these merchants. Half of them live on the other side of town. If they had to set up and take down every day, they'd lose the best dealing hours in our heat. So they leave their goods here, and have someone to watch them."

  "And I'll just bet anyone who doesn't pay for the watching loses stuff by the cartloads."

  Ania looked at him without comprehension, but added her own thought. "The horse-dealer didn't have any one there, Reandn. You might barter some of that price down with some night work. You don't have any place to stay—" and she stopped, putting a hand to her mouth.

  "Tanager is a talkative fellow," Reandn remarked, more calmly than he felt. Ania blushed, barely discernable in the growing dusk. "But the suggestion sound enough."

  She didn't immediately respond; he could see the curiosity in her expression, and knew she was brimming with questions—Where did you come from? Why is Farren interested in you? And, probably, What in Graces happened to your boots?

  "I'll make you a deal," Reandn said. "It's getting dark. I'll walk you home, and you can ask all the questions Tanager put in your head."

  "How is that a deal for you?"

  He grinned at her. "I didn't say I'd give you any answers."

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Chapter 8

  Reandn spent the night under the trees and rose soaked with dew and clinging mist. A creek trickled nearby; he stripped and splashed off before donning his pants and vest to head for the market, ignoring his stiff body and sore feet.

  The tents and stalls were still shrouded in mist when he arrived at the market, the remarkably unsavory laughter of the guards muffled in the damp air. The guards hung together in clumps—not, as far as Reandn could tell, at all concerned about the wares they guarded. Nor did they seem interested in the horse that wandered the grounds, spooking and snorting.

  Idiots. He appropriated a loose tie-down from an unattended kiosk. A short low laugh, a few mutters, and they shifted toward him. One man offered growled advice. "Let the horse be."

  Reandn flipped the end of the rope in a loop to start a non-slip knot. "And leave you to pick up the mess he’s about to make?" Behind him, several ridden horses trotted into the market, their owners conversing loudly over the noise of their own progress.

  The man who'd spoken shook his head at the others; they eased back. ""Don't make it a habit to butt in around here. This is our turf."

  "I can see that," Reandn said, and left them trying to decide if they should take offense. As those first merchants flipped away their cover tarps, he spoke to the skittish horse, watching its eye grow wilder and its head raise higher as he approached, never quite fast enough to push it into flight. Finally he touched its shoulder, scratching companionably until he had the rope around its neck—and just that fast, he looped the tail of it through the loop and over its nose, leaving just enough of the end to serve as a lead.

  For a moment, the horse held its head high, air rattling through its nose. Then, decision made, it dropped its nose and followed his gentle tug. Reandn led it through the largely unoccupied market to the stock area, ignoring the few rude remarks that followed him.

  A single hastily secured animal testing its bonds at the tie rail—no doubt its rider was off rounding up his stock. It was easy enough to pick the dealer who owned Reandn's stray: the corral was full, the gate closed, but the horses—including the scarred bay—milled nervously. Even as Reandn watched, the dealer approached with a haltered runaway, maneuvering it through a barely opened gate to join its fellows.

  "One more," Reandn offered, yet unnoticed.

  "Ardrith's Graces!" But the man's startled alarm turned to relief when he saw Reandn, and he opened the gate again. Reandn's catch gladly bolted to the security of its companions. "The last," the man said with satisfaction—and only then looked at Reandn's face. "There! I knew you'd be back for that bay!"

  "It seems I'm lucky he's still here."

  A frown crossed the man's square face, settling in amongst his jowl. "My father always said the trading business wasn't fun and games."

  "The guards have something to do with it?"

  The man hesitated, looked away. "It's market business. Do you want to talk about that gelding, or no?"

  Reandn found the bay in the settling herd. Still excited, it strutted across the enclosure with its chin tucked to its chest, grunting to itself. Gelding it might be, but it certainly didn't seem to know it. "I don't suppose you know how old it was when it was cut."

  "No idea," the man said, agreeably enough.

  "Gonna be hard to unload him like that. Might even be a rig. I'll wait until you're tired of throwing hay down his belly." Reandn put a foot on the lower rail of the enclosure, watching as the horse settled.

  "You came out here this early for that?" The dealer looked ask
ance at him. "I've got other matters to deal with, then. Don't need you taking up what time I have before real customers start coming around. My thanks for your help."

  "It looks as though you could use some more." Reandn rested his chin on the hand now gripping the top rail, watching the horses rearrange their priorities to crowd around the empty wooden hayrack.

  The dealer was heading away when he realized what Reandn had said; he stopped short. "You don't know anything about it," he said, but there was hope beneath the hard tone in his voice.

  "If you'd had a man here, like the rest of them, this wouldn't have happened."

  "You volunteering?" the merchant asked dryly.

  "I'm worth more than that. My work for the bay."

  For a moment, the shorter man seemed to be considering, but he shook his head. "It's tempting," he said, "but no. You haven't the faintest idea what this is about."

  "Suppose you tell me. If I don't hire on, I'll forget what I hear."

  The merchant hesitated, then blew out a harsh breath. "You'd best do that." The man hooked his foot over the rail to mirror Reandn, and glanced around to see that they were still alone at this end of the market. "It's market business. The minor knows nothing of it. The men and women standing watch on market goods are hardly a reputable company—"

  "The opposite, I'd guess." Reandn glanced away from the horses to watch the dealer's.

  "It didn't start out badly," the dealer said, reflecting his dismay—along with a certain amount of hopelessness. "We were all losing things, just little bits and pieces. At the time we had a few men we'd all hired together—but it was too much of a job for them. That's when Shuyler made us an offer—reduced fee if we used his men exclusively, one on every tent." He made a face. "The whole thing was too damned convenient."

  "Any merchant should know better than to grab a deal that's too good to be true."

  "Like your offer to stand watch in return for a scarred up, studdy bay?" the man asked dryly.

  "That's no deal yet." Reandn shrugged. "I haven't even ridden the horse."