D’Olbriot had offered Ryshad the title of chosen man, an undeniable honor. A sworn man making the step to chosen man and then rendering sound service could justifiably hope for a later commission to watch over D’Olbriot lands and tenants in some city or province. A stewardship, its stipend, independence to live our lives as we chose; it sounded promising. Ryshad saw it as the soundest foundation for our life together but I wasn’t about to sit on my hands for the next fifteen years waiting for that apple to fall in my lap. We needed some way of putting Messire D’Olbriot so deep in our debt that his gratitude favored Ryshad at once.
What were the patron’s pressing concerns? Firstly, securing the Archmage’s assistance without being obligated to Hadrumal. Secondly, ensuring the House of D’Olbriot retained its position as the sole conduit of influence with the colony of Kel Ar’Ayen, or Kellarin as more modern inflexions had it. Which is why I was here in Selerima working on the former while Ryshad was busy in the temporary service of Messire’s nephew Camarl, securing the latter. I still missed him though. Had I talked myself into a pointless quest when I might just as well have stayed at his side? I heaved a sigh.
No. If you don’t throw the runes, you can’t win the wager. What did ’Gren say about a seemingly impossible task? “You eat an elk one bite at a time,” usually adding, “and you start with its balls if it’s fighting back.”
Selerima, Western Ensaimin,
Second Day of the Spring Fair, Afternoon
“I hardly think you are in a position to be making demands!” Eirys folded her arms and her indignation echoed around the bare white walls of the little room.
“I don’t think I should have to be asking,” Jeirran replied icily. He emptied his purse onto a dresser with chipped paint and a crooked hanging door. “A wife shouldn’t need reminding of her duties in bed or out of it.”
Eirys sniffed crossly. “If you had any consideration, you’d think of the consequences. What if I were to catch down here, in this rancid air? The babe would probably slip before we were halfway home.” She ran an unconscious hand over her slim waist.
“Aren’t you making a rather big assumption?” Jeirran turned with a sneer. “It’s been the best part of half a year since we were shackled over Misaen’s anvil. When’s Maewelin going to give you sons to work your land with me? Perhaps you should try and find a holy place if these profane lowlanders have such a thing, ask for her blessing.”
“Perhaps she’s waiting until you’ve proved yourself able to provide for me,” Eirys retorted acidly. “All your great plans have come to naught so far. All you’ve managed is disgracing my brother by getting yourselves locked up. I don’t know what Mother will say!”
“She won’t say a thing because you won’t tell her.” Jeirran raised a warning hand and Eirys took a hurried step to put the narrow bedstead between them.
“She’ll ask how we prospered,” she insisted nervously. “When we’ve been away so long, when you promised—” She fell silent as Jeirran took a pace forward.
“You go out shopping today,” he forced a smile. “Buy yourself a couple of nice dress lengths, some of the fripperies and fancies. Get your mother some Caladhrian lace, that should please her.” His tone hardened a little as he filled a small pouch with copper coin. “Find something that’ll have her well enough satisfied to keep her nose out of my business.” He tossed the purse onto the bed.
Eirys nodded, a smile brightening her face as she tied the purse at her waist. She picked up a warm embroidered shawl from the tattered counterpane, tucking it around her as she made for the door. Jeirran caught her with a powerful hand. “You needn’t hurry, sweetest.” He brushed a wisp of golden hair from her cheek and kissed her, lightly at first, then with more force, an insistent hand at the back of her head.
“It’s already late.” Eirys pushed ineffectually at his broad chest and twisted her face away coquettishly. “The best goods are to be had in the mornings—”
“And the best bargains are to be had in the evenings.” Jeirran’s forceful embrace startled a faint exclamation from Eirys but she yielded to his kisses readily enough. Jeirran’s murmurs of satisfaction were answered by her stifled giggles, his breath coming faster and one hand untucking the blouse from her waistband before an abrupt knock startled them both.
“Tidy yourself up,” Jeirran snapped, adjusting the set of his trews. “Who is it?”
“Us,” came the tart reply through the rough wooden door. Jeirran untied the latchstring to let Keisyl and Teiriol enter. Teiriol gave Eirys a sharp look seeing the high color in her face but she shook her head minutely, silent appeal in her cornflower eyes.
“What have you two been doing this morning?” asked Jeirran with a creditable assumption of ease. “The maid said you’d gone out at first light.”
“We thought we’d try our luck at the races,” Keisyl shot Jeirran a meaningful glare. “See if we could find another way to turn up some profit on this trip.”
“You should have woken me. What’s the horseflesh like down here?” Jeirran demanded with genuine interest.
“Bigger,” answered Teiriol with a bark of laughter. “Faster, sleeker, they race like dogs after a hare.”
“Lovely to watch but no earthly good on a steep track or for packing more than Eirys’ weight.” Admiration gave the lie to Keisyl’s contempt.
“You must have got their measure easily enough.” Jeirran looked hopefully at them both.
“After handling hill ponies all my life?” Keisyl snorted. “I could have told you which were the likely winners before the grooms got them saddled—”
“—but none of the touts would take our coin,” Teiriol burst out. “Apparently they’d heard about the likes of us. Mountain folk aren’t to be trusted, so they tell us!”
“You’re saying they wouldn’t even hold your stake?” Confusion drove the optimism from Jeirran’s eyes and a dark scowl settled on his brow.
“Not one of them,” confirmed Keisyl with cold anger. “No explanation, no apology, just thinly veiled hints that we were somehow going to cheat them.”
“I don’t understand these people,” Jeirran shook his head in wonder. “How can they be so wrapped up in their own conceits?”
“It’s because there are so many of them, just as we heard on the way down here.” Teiriol crossed the little room in two paces and peered down out of the clouded and ill-fitting window. “Look at them, busy as beetles in a muckheap. They have their own kind to buy from and sell to and that’s all they need. Drefial was right. If two of them cut each other’s throats over a deal, ten more step up to take advantage before the blood stops flowing—”
“All right, Teir, enough.” Keisyl nodded sourly.
“I need some fresh air.” Jeirran heaved a sigh “Keisyl, you take Eirys shopping. Teiriol and me will see if we can find someone from these all powerful guilds willing to give us the nod today.”
Keisyl looked doubtfully at Jeirran. “Shouldn’t I come with you?”
“It’s your turn to chaperone Eirys,” protested Teiriol. “I did spend all yesterday looking at beads and buttons,” he explained with an apologetic glance at his sister.
Eirys looked uncertainly at the men. “I could just stay here.”
“No, come on,” Keisyl offered her his arm. “We’ve got to make sure you’re looked after.”
Eirys gave Jeirran a quick peck on the cheek. “See you later, my love.” Before he could respond she was out of the door, her stout leather boots echoing on the bare wood of the stairs.