“What happened?” Tanner asked.
Carrion moved a few steps forward. Devlin held up his empty hands in front of him.
Tanner stepped between them. He looked at Devlin, “Why?”
Devlin pointed to Carrion’s waist. His purse hung outside, by a single leather thong. There had been four, and the purse had been inside his waistband. “A thief.”
Lifting the purse and glancing at the cut strips of leather, Carrion understood. “You had to push me before he cut the last one. If you hadn’t acted so fast, he would have my purse.”
The few people who had paused to watch moved on. Carrion replaced his knife and reached an empty hand to Devlin, who eventually grasped it in a handshake. Devlin said, “If you have a string long enough, tie it around your neck . . . And another to your trousers. They’ll cut the one around your neck and catch it as it falls free. You need at least two.”
“You know this because you were a thief?” Tanner asked.
Devlin gave him the same look children give to mothers who ask silly questions.
“We have a lot to do. Devlin, why don’t you take the lead?”
The smile was instant and unexpected. His words were, too. “You lead. I’ll be more help to you at your back.”
CHAPTER NINE
The three of them walked the streets. People jostled them, others moved out of their way, and more than a few cast hateful looks in Devlin’s direction. Otherwise, few paid them any attention. The city was used to travelers and strangers. Although smaller than Fleming by half, the port city flourished with buyers, sellers, sailors, travelers, and those who profited by them.
Carrion led them unerringly to the market square. He paused near a vendor selling meat pies and purchased three while asking where they might find clothing. The pie seller gave confusing instructions, but before the pies were eaten, they stood before a short, round woman with pink cheeks matching her overall appearance.
“I want to buy this boy. A shirt, pants, stockings, and boots,” Carrion said.
“He surely needs all that. And a bath.” She said, twitching her nose, but not moving to help display her goods.
Carrion pulled a large silver coin, flipped it in the air with his thumb and snatched it back just as the woman reached out. He curled a lip and said, “It appears to me that you have nothing we’re interested in.”
They left to the sound of her curses. Further, down the aisle, they found another woman selling clothing. Tall and thin, she greeted all three with a smile when they paused in front of her stall. The clothing displayed was used, colorful, and in good repair. She said, “Do you see anything you like?”
Carrion stepped forward and said, “Yes, there is. I like your smile, and it’ll earn you a proper fee, I’m thinking.”
“I’m married, but always appreciate a compliment, good sir.”
“I simply meant that we have not been treated so well since we arrived this morning. We’ll do business with people that are friendly. Have you anything to fit my new friend, Devlin? The odd-looking young man with us?”
“Not so odd looking if he wore clothing fit for a man instead of a child. I think he might be a handsome young man with proper pants and shirt. Each will cost two small coppers, but he can have his pick of colors. I’ll hem or mend anything needed for no charge.”
Tanner said, “Boots, too. I don’t see any.”
“Can’t sell you them, but when we get your friend dressed properly, I’ll take you to an honest man who will sell them. His stall is just a few steps away. I do have stockings if you wish.” She nodded to a table with stockings of every color and size.
“Get over here so she can judge your size, Devlin,” Carrion said, pointing to a green shirt.
“Too small,” she said.” Then she turned to Devlin. “Show me a shirt you like.”
He pointed to a blue one.
“Too small, again, but how about this one?” She held up another blue shirt, almost the same color, one with long sleeves. It had, at least, two tears that had been expertly mended.
He nodded.
She glanced at his waist and legs and selected a pair of pants that had so little wear there were no patches. “Go behind that curtain and change. Be quick about it.”
Devlin looked at Carrion for confirmation, then moved to the curtain. He emerged a different person. The filthy clothing in his hand had been charcoal, but that had not been the original colors. They were intended for someone a head shorter. Now he would fit in on any street they'd been on, drawing no negative attention, except for the bare feet.
Carrion nodded in approval. He turned back to the woman. “Now that you know his size, can you select another shirt and pants, and we need six pairs of stockings if you don’t mind. The colors won’t matter.”
“Mind? That’s what I do here,” she laughed as she held up another shirt and waited for Devlin to smirk his approval. She wrapped the entire contents in a rag and tied it. Then she walked with them to a cobbler’s stall and introduced them.
In no time, Devlin wore his first pair of stockings and from another friendly vendor, boots that were hardly worn. The smile he wore convinced more than one he was daft as they wove their way in and out more of the sellers, buyers, lookers, and thieves. Twice people had tried for Carrion’s purse.
When they reached a leather smith's stall Carrion placed his purse on the counter. The old man with a hammer and scissors on hand said, “Replace the thongs or sell you something that won’t be taken.”
“Tell me about the second choice,” Carrion said.
The man reached to a shelf under the counter and placed a flat envelope of soft leather in front of Carrion to examine. There were leather strips, but also a hole in the leather, the edges stitched with heavy cord. A large brass button lay on top.
He said, “You tie it to your pants like most, but when a cutpurse snips the cords and expects to grab and run, the button sewn on the inside of your pants fouls his play. Same with pickpockets. They can’t get it free.”
“We’ll take three. Six buttons. Needle and thread, too, if you please.”
“Cost you eight smalls in total,” his voice said he was willing to barter.
“Nine, or no deal,” Carrion said, his voice sounding final. It took a moment for the leather smith to realize he’d been offered more than he asked. He offered to sew the buttons, but Carrion refused.
Tanner said, “You can point us to a good inn. A place with solid food, clean beds, and a place where the captains of ships tend to gather.”
“That’ll be the Anchor Inn,” he pointed. “Right down that street there. Ask anybody or look for the blue anchor over the door. If you insist on paying me nine, I’ve been watching your skinny friend hiking up his pants since you’ve been here. I have a belt that’ll fit him. Too small for most and it has been hanging here in my stall taking up space for a summer or two. No charge.”
They headed in the direction the Leatherman told them, pausing only long enough to buy three bananas, a fruit none had ever eaten, but people near the stall seemed to enjoy them. The vendor told them the strange fruits had arrived on ships from a far-off land. After struggling with the removing the peelings, they found the fruit sweet, but too soft to be enjoyable.
The sign with the blue anchor leaped out at them from the side of a building. The front door sat on one side of a building made of tan stone while the rest of the wall facing the street was a row of small windows, most of them propped open for circulation.