"I thought the Blood Wars were over," Cresenne said under her breath.
Grinsa smiled faintly, his eyes still fixed on the battlements. "It seems people here have long memories. Are you certain you wouldn't rather sail south a bit farther? Maybe cross one of the other sovereignties?"
"Do you think it would make much difference?"
"The captain thought it would."
She looked down at Bryntelle, who cooed in her arms, a toothless grin on her lovely face. This journey had been as hard on Bryntelle as it had been on Cresenne. The baby had eaten poorly for days. This was as happy as she had seemed since they boarded the ship in Rennach.
"I can't, Grinsa," she said at last. "And neither can Bryntelle. Probably we should. But the thought of another day aboard this ship is almost enough to make me weep." She glanced up at him. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right. I'm not certain I could bear to eat another bite of fish. We'll do as we planned, and we'll find a way through to Qirsi lands."
Cresenne nodded, though she still looked apprehensive.
The Fortune Seeker continued on her steady course toward the pier, and Grinsa and Cresenne remained on the deck, watching the city draw near, eyeing that hulking fortress as a sea captain might the towering grey clouds of an approaching storm. Before long-too soon, as far as Grinsa was concerned-the vessel had glided to one of the piers. Two of the crew jumped nimbly onto the dock and tied mooring ropes to a pair of heavy iron cleats bolted into the old wood. Other sailors on the dock, who might have spared only a glance for the merchant vessel under other circumstances, stared hard at the Qirsi, most with dark expressions, a few with genuine surprise. Grinsa pretended not to notice, but he moved a bit closer to Cresenne and Bryntelle, and he took hold of his magic, the way a soldier might grip the hilt of a sheathed sword, just in case.
When the ship had been tied fast and the gangway lowered to the dock, Grinsa took Cresenne's hand and made himself smile.
"Ready?"
Before she could answer, Grinsa heard a footstep behind them.
Turning, he saw the captain walking toward them.
"Stay here," the man said as he stepped past and made his way to the gangway. "I'll be back shortly."
"Captain?" Grinsa called after him.
He looked back at them, scratching his paunch, the morning sun lighting the silver flecks in his black hair. "Ye shouldn' linger in th' city too long. I'll arrange fer th' horses as I promised ye."
Grinsa approached him, pulling out the small leather pouch that held their gold. "You'll need money."
But the captain held up a broad hand and shook his head. "Ye kin pay 'im after I've arranged matters."
"Can I pay you for your trouble?"
"No." He nodded toward Cresenne. "Th' lady was right. We shoulda warned ye. I'm jest makin' things right atween us."
"You're a good man, Captain."
The man waved the compliment away. "Ye should save yer gold if'n
ye can. Or if ye have t' spend it, buy somethin' fer th' little beauty. Later. When ye's away from here."
Grinsa had to smile. "We will. Thank you."
"I won' be long," the man said, and left his ship.
With the captain gone, Pelton Fent took command of the vessel. He stood in the middle of the deck, not far from the Qirsi, his stout legs planted, his arms crossed over his barrel chest, and he watched the men, barking commands occasionally, but mostly letting the crew go about their work, just as the captain had done. He didn't so much as look at Grinsa or Cresenne, and the rest of the men, perhaps following his example, ignored them as well.
"What if he can't find us horses?" Cresenne asked after some time.
Grinsa shrugged. "We'll walk."
Cresenne actually laughed. "Even I'm not that desperate to get off the sea. -We'll sail farther."
He glanced at her, grinning. "Do you really need me for this conversation?"
"Who says I was talking to you? Right, Bryntelle?" She kissed the baby's belly, eliciting a loud squeal that drew the stares and smiles of several of the crew.
"We could do worse than to remain on this ship," Grinsa said, lowering his voice.
"I know. But I'd rather it didn't come to that."
A few moments later, Grinsa spied the captain making his way down the main road leading from the city walls to the wharf. He walked briskly, and as he stepped onto the pier, he caught Grinsa's eye and nodded.
"He's done it," the gleaner said.
Cresenne looked at him. "You're certain?"
He took her hand again. "Come on."
They walked to the gangway, meeting the captain just as he stepped onto the ship.
"Well, I've found ye two fine beasts," Rois said. "And at a fair price t' boot."
"Thank you, Captain. We're in your debt."
"Not at all. Th' farrier is a man named Dren Meigen. His shop's just off th' west end o' th' marketplace. Ye shouldn' have any trouble findin' it. I've found ye a bay and a dun-good animals both. Dren wanted eight sovereigns fifty fer each, but he owes me a favor-owed me, that is. I got 'im down t' twelve sovereigns even fer th' pair."
The captain said this last with some pride, and though Grinsa knew
as little about Southlands currency as he had about everything else in this strange land, he smiled and nodded.
"Well done, Captain. Thank you." He pulled out his money pouch again. "Will the farrier take Forelands money?"
Rois laughed. "Dren will take any coin ye give 'im. So will any other man or woman in th' markets here. Gold's gold, wherever it be from.
Twenty-five o' yer qinde ought t' do it. Tha's a bit on th' generous side, but close enough."
Grinsa nodded. Twenty-five qinde for a pair of horses wasn't a bad price, though in the Forelands it might not have been cause for quite as much satisfaction as he'd seen on the captain's face.
"Tell me, Captain. Will we need different coin when we reach Qirsi land?"
The man shook his head. "They take sovereigns, too. Or qinde. As I say, gold is gold. Th' clans tend t' trade in goods rather than gold, which may be why they's never had much use fer coin. But they'll take gold all right. Th' Talm'Orast and H'Bel seem t' collect it." He laughed, but seeing that Grinsa and Cresenne didn't understand the joke, he quickly grew serious again. "Anyway, yer fine with what ye got."
"Very well." He held out a hand, which the captain gripped. "Again, Captain, you have our thanks. May the Fortune Seeker always find helping winds and easy waters."
"I 'preciate that. Ye take care o' these lovelies now, ye hear?" He took
Cresenne's hand between both of his own and looked her in the eyes. He was about her height, but so powerfully built that she looked like a child beside him. "I know ye think we done ye wrong, ma'am. But I swears agin, it weren't on purpose."
"I believe you, Captain. And I'm grateful to you for finding us the mounts."
He grinned broadly at the baby and tapped her belly with a fat finger, drawing a giggle.
They left the ship and made their way up the pier toward the city.
And almost immediately upon reaching the cobblestone road leading to the gate, Grinsa knew that he was in an alien land. It wasn't just the stares, or the palpable hostility of those they encountered along the way, though they would have been enough to put both him and Cresenne on edge. In the cities of the Forelands, there had been ten Eandi for every one Qirsi. In smaller towns and country villages, the Qirsi had been even less of a presence. But no matter where one went, there were almost always a few Qirsi at least. One could look out across any marketplace and see amid the dark hair and dark eyes one or two pale figures, a shock of bone white hair, or a pair of flame-colored eyes.
But here, in this city, he saw none. Had he not known better he might have assumed, looking at the road and the city gate beyond it, that there were no Qirsi in all the Southlands. On the other hand, he could tell from the glares of the Eandi they encountered that the men and women of Yorl were very familiar with his people, and that this familiarity had bred little but contempt and fear. People actually stopped in their tracks to watch Grinsa and Cresenne walk by. No one said anything to them, but they didn't have to.