“Did you have to wash your feet?”
“Of course I had to wash my feet! And brush off my coat, too, and wipe down the sandals—which is a good thing, I guess, as otherwise it might be difficult to get into them tomorrow. Oh, and she wants me to wipe the mud off my face.” I paused. “Did you have to?”
“Wash my feet? Or wash the mud off my face?”
I scowled at her. “Both.”
“Yes. I had mud up to my ankles. My face was clean, though.”
“Is she charging you extra for various and sundry things?”
Del frowned, perplexed. “No.”
“Hah!” I said emphatically, then winced because it was louder than I wished. Would that bring Tamar-the-landlady?
“She likes me,” Del added.
Suspicious, I asked, “Did the hostler-smith charge you extra?”
That frown again. “No. Why would he?”
“Hoolies.” I was utterly disgusted. “They’re all picking on me.”
Del nodded, smiling. “You are eminently pick-on-able.”
“That’s not even a word.” I scratched at my face, then began brushing hard at the disguising mud.
She said, “Use the ewer, Tiger. She’s left washing cloths for us.”
“You’re on her side.” I walked around the bed to the tiny table that held ewer, pitcher, cloths, and a mostly-melted candle set in a cup. “Once again, why did you pick this place?”
“Once again, because of Tamar. Consider, Tiger: Will she allow sword-dancers?”
“She allowed you. She allowed me.
“I told her my man insisted I play dress-up games, but had left me in the last town for an itinerant actress. She was most upset on my behalf.”
I grunted. “I’ll bet. And me?”
“I saw you come in. You looked a little like a hunchback. I think she took pity on you.”
“Pity? The damn woman doesn’t know the meaning of the word.” I dipped the cloth into the filled ewer, began wiping my face. “And she doesn’t serve spirits!”
Del sighed. “The medicinal aqivi is in my saddle pouches.”
I brightened. “So it is!” I scrubbed at the dried mud over my scars. “It saves us having to go to a tavern for it.”
“As I was saying, Tamar will guard the door. No one is going to sneak in and challenge you.”
“You snuck in.”
“To your room,” she said. “Not through the front door—no; you missed some. Here, let me do it.” She extended her hand. I put the wet, muddied washing cloth into it. “Sit.”
I sat, ruminating on the fact that the two women currently closest to me thought nothing of ordering me around. No wonder Tamar liked Del.
Del wiped at my face, then stopped and looked at me. “Do you have your shaving things?”
“In my pouches somewhere.”
“Good.” Del stuffed the wet cloth back into my hands, knelt, and began rummaging through my pouches. Eventually she came up with my folding razor. “No soap? I didn’t find any.”
“It was down to a sliver. Not anything to salvage.”
“A dry shave, then.” Del opened the blade right in front of my face. “I’ll neaten you up. Tamar will approve.”
“Hoolies, Del, I don’t care what that woman approves or doesn’t!”
“You’ll care if she decides to throw you out. You’ll be sleeping with the stud if she does. Now—hold still.”
I squinched up my face. Del poked a finger at a furled cheek. “Stop that. Do you want more scars?”
“Don’t you have soap?”
“It was down to a sliver. I thought I might buy more while we’re here.”
“Young lady!” A gnarled hand yanked the curtain aside. “Young lady, why are you in this reprobate’s room?”
‘Reprobate?’ I wondered if the word had kinship with ‘odious.’
“He’s filthy,” Del said. “He asked me to neaten him. Since I grew up with five brothers, I agreed. I know how you like clean, tidy lodgers. He’ll pay extra, of course.”
In the doorway, Tamar nodded. “Very well. Shall I stand watch for you? I should hate to see him take advantage of you.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” Del smiled at her. “I have the razor.”
Tamar bobbed her head once. “Very well.” She fixed me with a minatory eye. “If I suspect you are making unsavory plans for this young woman, I’ll hand you over to the Watch. They know me, know my rules. You won’t see daylight for two weeks.”
I stared at her. “Two weeks?”
“Two weeks. That’s the minimum sentence.”
“Well,” I said, “I have no unsavory plans for this young woman. I’m sure five brothers taught her many ways of beating off overeager admirers.”
Del’s smile broadened. Tamar thawed the tiniest bit. “See that you don’t become one of them.” She looked disapprovingly at the sword and harness resting against the tiny table. “Since you aren’t a man with a crooked shoulder, it will cost extra for your sword. I can’t abide weapons in this place.”
“Extra! Is there anything in this town that doesn’t cost extra?”
The old woman stared at me narrow-eyed. “Be grateful you’ve got a room at all.”
She had a point there. “I am,” I said in a conciliatory tone. “Very grateful.”
Tamar bobbed her head. “That’s as it should be.” She looked at Del. “Are you sure you don’t wish a witness?”
Del smiled her sweetest smile. “I’ll slit his throat if he even moves.”
“Ah. Very well.” Tamar yanked the curtain closed again and took herself away.
I stared at the door curtain a moment, suppressing the urge to rip down it and every other curtain in the place, just to drive the landlady to insanity, but dismissed it with regret as Del poked again at my face.
“Now the jaw,” she said. “I’m sure you see why we need not fear other sword-dancers a-hunting you here.”
My eyes crossed as the razor came close to my face. “I suspect she’d take every coin they had before they stepped foot into this place.”
“That’s the point,” Del said. “Now, shut up. I don’t want to nick you.”
Some while later Tamar served cider, fresh bread, strong cheese, and portions of the stew bubbling in the pot that hung from a long iron hook in the kitchen fireplace. There was, however, no place to sit in the small common room just off the kitchen. I asked very politely if we were allowed to take the food and drink back to our rooms.
She was stirring stew in the fireplace with a large ladle. “No, you certainly may not. I like to keep an eye on my lodgers while they eat.”
In an intentionally meek tone, I asked why.
“So they don’t steal my bowls and spoons. Some would, you must know. Some have.”
I examined the bowl and spoon set upon a metal plate. Short of them being pure silver or gold, I couldn’t think of a reason anyone would steal them.
“Eat,” she ordered. “Then off to bed with you.”
I forgot to use my meek voice. “I don’t generally go to bed right after dinner.”
“I want you out from under my feet. If you’d prefer, you may go outside to walk, to waste coin in a tavern. But if you’re here, it’s off to bed with you.”
And then all the inner amusement about the woman’s manner peeled away. Beneath that layer, buried partway because I felt so helpless, was the knowledge that with every passing moment it would become more difficult to find Rashida.
“Listen. Del and I are here together.” I was aware of Del’s surprise that I should say so. “We’re here together, in Istamir, because my son’s sister was stolen by raiders. We’re not here to carouse, we’re not here to make life difficult for you—though I don’t know why you operate an inn when you dislike people so much. We are here to track down these raiders. Nothing more, just to find the girl—and the horses, if we can; they took those as well. And while I usually have respect for women of your age, you’re making it very difficult. We’re here for one very serious reason.” She stood in front of the hearth with her back to it, mouth open, ladle clutched in one hand. She appeared not to notice stew and grease was dripping on her plank floor. Frozen in place, she just stared at me. “I realize Del made up some cockamamie story about masquerading as a sword-dancer, but she is a sword-dancer. Trained on Staal-Ysta. And if it takes killing to get the girl back, then we will kill.”