"Greysford. Thank you. And your name?"
He hesitated. "M'Than."
"What clan are you from, M'Than?"
The man chuckled. "You are strangers to this land, aren't you?" He pointed to the markings on his face. "You see this? This means that I'm J'Balanar. Do you know of the J'Balanar?"
Grinsa shook his head.
"You will if you're in the Southlands for long. Our people are the swiftest horsemen of the uplands and the finest seamen on the Ofirean." "And which are you?"
He grinned. "Both. I grew up riding in the downs. When I reached the end of my fourth four, I left the uplands and made my way to Siraam, where I learned to sail."
His fourth four. While on the Fortune Seeker Grinsa had heard some of the men speak of fours, meaning four years. It seemed that this was common among both Eandi and Qirsi.
"How long have you been trading?" Grinsa asked the man. "Two years now actually almost three."
"And do you sell your wares in both Eandi and Qirsi lands?"
"Of course. Most peddlers do. There's a saying here: 'Commerce cares nothing for the color of a man's eyes.'"
Grinsa glanced at Cresenne, who nodded, a small smile on her lips. Facing M'Than again, he asked, "Does that mean that there are Eandi peddlers here who'll sell us food?"
"You have gold?"
"Forelands gold, yes."
"Gold is gold," M'Than said, much as had Captain Dungar. "They'll sell it to you if they've got it to sell. You won't get a good price, but there's little to be done about that. You might have a better chance in one of the middle nations-Qosantia or Tordjanne. But not in Stelpana." He grinned again, his teeth yellow and crooked. "When I'm here, I take as much gold as I can from a dark-eye. It's just the way of things."
Grinsa nodded. "Thank you, M'Than. You've been most helpful."
The peddler shrugged. "You can thank me better than that." He indicated his goods with an open hand. "Something for the lady? Or maybe the little one?"
Grinsa smiled and after a moment's consideration, chose a blanket of blue and green. "How much?"
"Ten of your qinde ought to do it."
He laughed. "I'll give you six."
"Eight."
"Six, or I walk away with the information and nothing else."
"Fine then," the peddler said. Grinsa got the impression that he was trying to sound cross, but there was a slight grin on the man's face. They both knew that the blanket was barely worth six.
"How far are we from Ravens Wash?" Grinsa asked, as he placed the blanket in his travel sack.
"No more than fifteen leagues, heading due west. You're going to the Far Borna?"
"I don't really know," Grinsa said, glancing at Cresenne once more. "We just want to reach Qirsi land as quickly as possible."
"It'll be the Fal'Borna, then. Not particularly friendly to strangers, but a fair bit better than the Eandi, I'd wager. Cut southward after you cross Ravens Wash. You want to get across the Silverwater, and that turns eastward as it heads south. You'll reach it quicker if you turn south."
"Again, M'Than, you have our thanks."
"Well, move on then. I'm wanting to get some dark-eye gold before the morning's done." He smiled again as if to soften the words, but Grinsa had no doubt that he did want them far away from his cart.
He nodded to the man once more, and he and Cresenne walked on to the next Qirsi peddler. He, too, was selling fabrics and jewels.
"They all will be," he muttered to himself, as they wandered away from the man's cart.
"What?"
He looked at Cresenne. "I'm just realizing now that we're not going to find any Qirsi peddler selling food."
"Of course not," she said. "They're too far from home to have brought it with them, and they'd have to spend too much buying it here from Eandi merchants."
"You'd already figured that out?"
She grinned, raising an eyebrow. "You hadn't?"
He shook his head, smiling ruefully. "I'm still thinking as a Forelander."
"Really? I would have thought the Qirsi with markings on his face would put an end to that."
Grinsa laughed, and Bryntelle let out a loud squeal.
"So, if we want food, we have to buy it from an Eandi," she said a moment later.
"I'm afraid so."
"Then let's get it over with and leave this place. I prefer the plain."
They circled the marketplace until they found a peddler who was selling food-cheeses, smoked meat, hard breads. Grinsa had steeled himself for an unpleasant encounter, but the Eandi peddler, an older man with white hair and a lopsided, ruddy face, proved easier to deal with than he had expected. He offered little in the way of pleasantries or conversation, and he tried to charge them far too much for what they wanted, but he wasn't openly hostile. When Grinsa refused to pay the four sovereigns the man demanded for all they were buying, he came down to three and a half.
"That's still too much," Grinsa told him. "That's seven qinde, and I won't pay it."
The man shook his head, his brow furrowed and his lower lip pushed out, as if he were considering the matter. "You won't find a better price in this marketplace."
Grinsa started to lead his mount away, and Cresenne followed. "Maybe not," he said over his shoulder. "But it won't be for lack of trying."
The man let him go five paces, perhaps to see if he'd stop on his own accord. Then he called out, "Two and a half!"
"Sovereigns?" Grinsa asked, turning to look at him.
"Yes. And not a silver less."
"Done." He led his horse back to the cart, paid the man, and began to pack the food in his travel sack.
"Where you from, white-hair?"
Grinsa glanced up at him. The man had asked the question mildly enough, and M'Than had called him white-hair as well. It was an aspersion in the Forelands; apparently in the Southlands it wasn't.
"The Forelands," he said.
"I figured that much. Where?"
"Eardley, on the eastern shore. You know it?"
"I used to sail those waters," he answered. "As a younger man. I know it."
He said nothing more, and Grinsa didn't pursue the matter. Clearly that was as much courtesy as the man was willing to show him. He finished packing the food, tied the sack to his saddle, and walked out of the marketplace with Cresenne and Bryntelle at his side.
They followed a lane west toward the wash, and soon found the bridge. A few more Eandi stared at them, and one old man went so far as to pull a dagger free, as if expecting them to assault him right there in the middle of the path. But as before, no one said anything to them, and in just a few moments they had crossed the bridge and were out of Greysford and back on the plain.
"That could have been far worse," Grinsa said, as they climbed onto their horses once more.
Cresenne kissed Bryntelle's forehead and nodded, but she didn't look relieved. "We're not out of Stelpana, yet."
They rode for much of what remained of that day, and spent the next two days riding as well. They maintained a course due west, and, on the third morning out from Greysford, came within sight of Ravens Wash. The weather had held for the first few days, but this one had dawned grey and windy. By the time they reached the water's edge, a steady rain was falling, chilling them and darkening their moods.
Once again, they found that the river was too deep and swift to cross. Had it been just the two of them, Grinsa and Cresenne might have made the attempt this time. Ravens Wash did not appear quite as daunting as had Maifor's Wash. But with Bryntelle in Cresenne's arms, they didn't dare. Remembering the advice given to them by the Qirsi peddler, they followed the wash southward. The rainfall increased throughout the day, and when the grey skies finally began to darken, they still had not found any shallows. But as the light failed, they caught sight of a village in the distance. It looked to be another league from where they were-they wouldn't reach it before dark, and if they couldn't find lodging in the town, they'd be forced to make camp in the dark and rain.