The man's face turned to stone, and he picked up a large hammer from the railing beside him. "I've knocked men cold fer less 'an that, white-hair."
He'd meant to provoke him, and had hoped that the farrier would take up a weapon. Reaching for his magic, Grinsa shattered the hammer's head, so that fragments of iron fell to the ground all around the farrier's feet.
"But not a Weaver," Grinsa said evenly.
The farrier stared at the useless piece of wood he still held in his hands.
"I shouldn't have to tell you what other powers I possess," Grinsa said. He drew upon another of his magics, and a moment later the plow horse, which was not tied to anything, began walking toward the farrier's son. At first, not understanding what was happening, the young man ordered the beast to halt. When it didn't, he tried to shove it away. That didn't work either, and slowly, the old horse forced the boy backward toward where the dun and bay were tied.
"Pa?" he said, sounding frightened, his eyes darting back and forth between his father and the advancing plow horse.
"Call him off!" Dren said.
"Tell your boy to untie those horses."
Dren took a menacing step toward Grinsa, but before the Qirsi could do anything, a bright yellow flame burst from the ground just in front of the farrier, stopping him in midstride and forcing him back.
"I'm not a Weaver," Cresenne said evenly. "But I've got a bit of power as well."
"Tell him to untie the horses," Grinsa said again.
The man licked his lips. "This is thiev'ry," he said. "Ya white-hair demons is robbin' me o' what ain' yars."
Grinsa glanced at Cresenne and nodded once. Immediately, her conjured fire died away, and Grinsa grabbed the man's throat in his hand. Dren wrapped his powerful hands around Grinsa's wrists.
"Let go of me," the Qirsi said, "or I'll shatter every bone in your body just the way I did your hammer. Do you understand?"
The farrier glowered at him, but after a moment he nodded and dropped his hands to his side.
"Have you ever heard of mind-bending magic, Dren?"
The man shook his head.
"It may have a different name here. I'm really not sure, nor do I care. It's a power that allows me to make you do whatever I want you to do, say whatever I want you to say. I can force you to tell the truth and admit exactly what you and Rois agreed to earlier today. The problem with mind-bending magic is that it's not that precise. It can hurt if it's used too roughly, and sometimes the damage can't be undone. Now, I'm usually pretty good with my magic, but you've angered me and, well, who knows what might happen if I try it on you when I'm angry?"
While much of what Grinsa told him about mind-bending power was true, this last was not. He had no doubt that he could use his magic on the man precisely enough to avoid hurting him. But he didn't want to use it at all.
"So rather than risking an injury that might leave you permanently addled," he went on, "you might want to consider whether it wouldn't just be better to admit that you're lying, sell us the horses, and be rid of
us for good." He let go of the farrier's throat and stepped back. "Fine then," the man muttered. "Ya can have th' damn horses." "So your son can hear."
"Ya can have th' horses," he said again, loudly this time.
"The dun and the bay."
"Yeah, th' dun an' th' bay."
"And what was the price?"
Dren exhaled through his teeth and looked away. "Twelve."
"That's the amount you and Captain Dungar agreed to, isn't it?"
"Yeah, we agreed t' twelve."
"But, Pa," the boy called from beside the two beasts, the plow horse positioned in front of him like a sentry. "Ya said-"
"Joost shut up and bring th' beasts here."
The young man did as he was told, leading the two horses to where his father was standing. Grinsa pulled his pouch free and counted out twenty-five qinde. He held out the coins to the boy, who glanced at his father, as if unsure of what to do.
"Take th' money," Dren said sullenly. "An' give 'im th' beasts." Once he had the reins in hand, Grinsa nodded to the farrier. "Thank you, Dren. I've enjoyed doing business with you."
"Git out," the man said. "An' I wouldn' linger in town too long if I was ya." He bared his teeth in a grin. "It might no' be safe."
Grinsa had started to walk away, but he stopped now, and with no more than a thought, he lit the man's apron on fire. Letting out a cry at the sight of the flames, Dren threw himself to the ground and rolled back and forth until they had been extinguished.
"White-hair bastard!" he growled, looking up at the Qirsi, smoke rising from his clothes.
"I wouldn't set foot outside your shop until we've cleared the city gate," Grinsa told him. "That wouldn't be safe."
They led the horses out of the paddock and into a narrow alley behind Dren's shop. From there, they made their way back onto the main avenue and into the city marketplace, where they hoped to buy a pair of saddles.
"How long do you think it will be before he comes after us?" Cresenne asked, as they searched the market for a saddler.
"Not long at all. But we won't stay any longer than it takes to buy some food and find a saddler. As far as I'm concerned we can buy the first saddles we see."
Yorl's marketplace was large, and difficult to navigate, but there were so many peddlers selling their wares that they soon found all that they needed. Before long, the horses were saddled, their travel sack was filled with dried fruits, salted meat, and flat breads, and they were on their way to the city's west gate. Before they reached it, however, they spotted the farrier and his son searching the streets for them, accompanied by four of the city guards.
"Damn," Grinsa muttered.
"We bought the horses as agreed," Cresenne said, as if reassuring herself. "We did nothing wrong."
"Dren won't have said anything about the horses. He doesn't have to. I lit his apron on fire. That's why they're looking for us." He looked at her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it."
"I'm glad you did. I was ready to; you just beat me to it."
"So what do we do?" he asked.
She thought a moment, and as she did, Bryntelle let out a small cry. A smile crossed Cresenne's face, and then vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. "Leave this to me," she told him.
Grinsa only had time to nod before Dren spotted them, thrusting out an arm with a triumphant smile on his face. He led the guards and his son to where they stood, his long strides carrying him so quickly in their direction that the others had to run every few steps to keep up with him.
"That's 'im!" the farrier said, stopping a few steps from them and looking back at the uniformed men. "That's th' Qirsi who tried t' burn me!"
"Is tha' true?" one of the guards asked, staring hard at Grinsa.
"Actually, it's not," Cresenne said.
"What?" The farrier shook his head and looked at the guards. "She's lyin'!"
"I'm the one who did it. Not Grinsa." She held out her hand, palm up, and an instant later a bright golden flame jumped to life there. "As you see, I have fire magic." The fire died away and she lowered her hand. "I shouldn't have done it, I know, but he threatened us and I I… I feared for my child." Remarkably, a tear slid down her face. Grinsa nearly laughed out loud at the sight of it. "You have to understand," she went on, her voice trembling slightly. "We're strangers to your land. And you all seem to hate our kind so much. And then this man threatened us that way. I just didn't know what else to do. I'm so sorry."
"I tell ya, she's lyin'! Ya can' believe a word she says, or 'im neither!" "You didn't threaten us?" Grinsa said. "You didn't tell us that it wouldn't be safe if we chose to linger in the city?"
"Did ya say tha' t' them?" the guard asked.
"No!" the farrier said.
It seemed that the guard knew Dren well enough not to believe him. He just eyed the man for several moments, saying nothing.
"Yeah, all righ'," Dren admitted. "I said it."
“Why?”
"They stole those beasts from me!"
"What?" the guard said. "Why didn't you mention that before?"