Jalia At Bay (Book 4) (19 page)

“Well then, I shall tell my wife that we can expect Torin home soon,” Samel said, his smile returning as quickly as it had vanished. “Will you bring the rest of your party into the village? I’m sure there are lots of pots of tea brewing even as I speak. We have not had so many visitors for a long time.”

Grilt turned on his horse and waved to Tel. Tel waved back.

Tel turned to Hadon who stood next to him looking concerned.

“It is safe for us to enter the village, Your Grace.”

“How can you be sure? Grilt only waved. It could have meant anything.”

“That was a special military wave, taught to us in the guard, Your Grace,” Tel lied effortlessly. “I can assure you that if they were in trouble, Grilt would have given me a subtly different wave. Not that a layman could tell the difference, Your Grace.”

“But we have only just got the donkeys into a circle,” Hadon grumbled. “We can only stay an hour, if that. We need to get a move on or we shall miss the boat.”

There was much grumbling in the camp, as the traders got ready for travel again, having just settled down. The promise of meeting new people and sampling their hospitality, did however, go some way to make up for it.

Jalia sought a seamstress in the village who might have clothes to trade. She was pointed towards a small cottage near the middle of the village. “Mara will see you all right,” one of the men told her. “She does little else but make and mend clothes since her legs gave out on her. Knock on the door and walk straight in. It will save her having to get up for you.”

Grilt had already dismounted from Blaze and Jalia helped Hala to get down. Daniel asked to borrow Hala’s knife and she passed it to him in surprise. Before she could ask Daniel what he wanted it for, Jalia dragged her away. Jalia led the horses towards the cottage the man had indicated. Hala was surprised at how many of the village children followed them.

Boys and girls took one look at Jalia’s sword on her back; knife at her belt and tight leather clothes and wanted to know all about her. Her short pleated leather skirt, which opened the possibility of the boys seeing something interesting above her well-shaped legs, only added to the size of her retinue. Mothers took one look at Jalia and prayed their daughters wouldn’t emulate her, while father’s looked on enviously that their sons could get so close.

Jalia knocked at the cottage door and then dragged Hala through the door.

The cottage was dark as the shutters were closed.

“Is that you, Samel?” a female voice called out.

“No it is Jalia al’Dare, a visitor to the village. I was told that you sell clothes?”

“Could you open my shutters for me? I’m afraid I can’t do it myself anymore.”

Jalia pointed Hala at the far window and opened the one nearest her. With the shutters open, the cottage looked warm and friendly. There was a large stuffed chair positioned to catch the light from the windows and now that they could see clearly, Jalia saw that a frail young woman sat upon it, almost hidden by the padded arms of the chair.

She was thin and pale. If her face was not so strained, she would have been beautiful, her long auburn hair framing her oval face to perfection. Her clothes were beautifully embroidered and Jalia might have lusted after them on a different day.

“I would love to make you something,” Mara said from the chair, a broad smile on her face. “You are so lithe and beautiful. I used to look a little like you until illness struck me.”

Jalia saw that the woman’s legs were thin and wasted. There were two sticks cut for walking on one side of the chair, but it seemed unlikely that Mara could get far on them.

“I thank you for the compliment. But it is not for myself that I seek clothes. My young traveling companion, Hala, is in need of clothes more suited to the life we lead. She has been with us since Sweetwater and I have not had a chance to sort out clothes before.”

Mara smiled at Hala who turned shy as Jalia introduced her. She tried to hide behind Jalia.

“You are young to be traveling the world,” Mara exclaimed. “I wish I had done that at your age, as I find that I can never do it now. What sort of clothes were you thinking of?”

“Something like mine. She might need to run or fight and her long dress is not useful for that.”

“And I have to ruck it all up whenever I ride Blaze,” Hala added. “It makes me sore in the front.”

“A pair of undergarments might be useful to prevent that too,” Mara suggested.

“I’ve never worn any,” Hala replied. “Don’t they get dirty?”

“Perhaps you might also teach her how to wash herself and her clothes?” Mara continued. Hala blushed bright red, keeping clean had not been seen as a useful thing at the fort.

“Have you got anything suitable?” Jalia asked; feeling a little embarrassed for Hala.

“Of course,” Mara replied. “If you can get her to take her clothes off so I can take measurements, I will have her clothes ready by the morning.”

“I don’t think we have until morning,” Jalia replied. She went over to the window facing the road and watched as Hadon and the rest of the traders entered the village. “The leader of our party is anxious to reach Boathaven and will not let us stay long.”

Mara’s face fell in disappointment. “There is no call for your kind of clothes in the village. I don’t think I can help you after all.”

“Is there nothing you can do? My companion carries spices from the south and I am prepared to be generous with them.”

“Now you are making it worse,” Mara said laughing. “I have not had southern spices in an age and I would kill for some. We used to get a lot of travelers from Sweetwater and Telmar, but in recent years the trade has all but stopped. Gef Fasser and his pig of a brother Tom have been getting supplies from somewhere, but I have nothing they want to trade for them.”

Jalia smiled. “I think that trade from Sweetwater may pick up in the future. There has been a problem on the route stopping traders from getting here, but I recently eliminated that particular problem… permanently.”

Mara frowned as she didn’t have a clue what Jalia was talking about. Then an idea occurred to her.

“There are some clothes of mine that might be adapted. It would take at least four hours to do it. Is that too long?”

Jalia continued to stare out of the window. She considered their situation. “We can stay that long. We might need to ride in the dark to catch them up, but we have horses and they are on foot. Make the clothes.”

“But we haven’t discussed the price.”

“I’m certain that won’t be a problem.”

Daniel walked into the blacksmiths with Jet held behind him. A large man came out from behind the big brazier in the middle of the building and looked him over.

“That’s a fine horse you have there, stranger,” he remarked. “The Marin’s would pay good money for it. They breed horses and are always looking for good stock. My name is Worock, by the way.” The blacksmith held out a massive hand, which Daniel shook. As Daniel expected, Worock squeezed his hand to judge his reaction. Daniel’s unexpectedly firm response took him by surprise and Worock winced.

“My name is Daniel,” Daniel replied. “Do you have any skills with making throwing knives?”

“A little, though there is little call for it in Priven. Why do you ask?”

Daniel held out Hala’s knife by its hilt.

“This knife is out of balance. I was wondering what you could do to fix it.”

Worock took the knife from Daniel and tried to balance it on his finger. “It’s too heavy in the blade. I would need to grind down the blade carefully, keeping the length, but narrowing it along its whole length. Then I would have to put an edge on it again and harden it.”

Daniel nodded, as the answer confirmed his opinion.

“We have only a few hours. Can you do it that quickly?”

“What do you have to trade?”

Daniel handed Worock a small bag. Despite the bag being made of the finest muslin its contents pungent odor floated across the room. Worock put the bag close to his nose and sniffed.

“That’s a high price you are offering.”

“We can trade it down to less if that is your desire?”

Worock laughed, “Would you give me a hand with the bellows? My son has vanished after some girl he spotted in a leather skirt. Young boys have no sense in these matters, I’m afraid.”

“I understand your son’s problem perfectly. It’s something I have been known to do myself,” Daniel said as he took off his jerkin.

Cara rode in front of her brothers into Marin Farm. The three had ridden hard since early morning in order to reach their destination by early afternoon. Marin Farm was two miles outside Priven. Trails joined the ancient road the traders were following both to east and west and the two group’s paths had never crossed.

Marin Farm was essentially a village in its own right, eight large houses and five barns making up the central part of it. The family had grown prodigiously in recent years as Cara’s mother had a allergy to Gintel leaves, and therefore been almost permanently pregnant during her youth. She stopped having children when her husband died and ran the farm and family with an iron hand ever since. Bril had been her youngest child, and so naturally, her favorite.

Family heard the horses approach and left their work to stand and gawp as Cara, Mic and Don rode into the farmyard. Whispers started as people noticed the man shaped bundle lying across the back of Cara’s saddle.

Brila Marin came rushing out of the biggest house at a run. She wore the apron as she had been making bread when Shila had come rushing in with news that Cara was back.

As she ran to Cara’s horse, she saw the tightly bound package on its back and stopped and faltered. She stared at her most capable offspring in a state of horror, looking for some sign that what she saw was not her son. When she didn’t get that response from Cara, whose eyes looked bleak, she ran forward and tore her son’s body from its place. Mic offered her his knife to cut the bindings and she quickly exposed her beloved Bril’s face.

Brila screamed in sorrow as the rest of the family gathered around her. It was some time before she stopped and stared hard into Cara’s eyes.

“Have you killed the one who did this?” Brila demanded.

“No mother, she had good reason for what she did.”

Brila stood up and slapped Cara so hard in the face that she staggered back.

“There is no reason good enough to kill one of my sons. I want whoever did this dead, do you understand? I want them dead!”

“Yes mother,” Cara said as she remounted her horse. “I will see to it straight away.”

Cara rode the way she had come, back on the road that led to Priven.

“Mother,” Don began carefully.

Brila’s eyes flashed at her son, “What?”

“The woman who did this nearly killed Cara when they met. The man she is with knocked Mic out in a fair fight. You may have just sent Cara to her death.”

“Then you had better get after her,” Brila screamed. “And if you let them kill Cara, don’t bother coming home.”

“Please no more!” Hala screamed as Jalia relentlessly poured yet another bucket of ice cold water over her head and into the bath.

Mara had requested Hala take off her clothes to be measured and when she saw how dirty the girl was, insisted she take a bath before they did anything else. Jalia believed that too much time would be wasted by introducing niceties such as warming the water first. She helped Hala strip, and had been bringing buckets of ice cold water from Mara’s well ever since.

No Jalia, I can’t stand it, please stop,” Hala moaned.

“Use some soap and wash yourself properly girl,” Mara said from the warmth and comfort of her chair. “The sooner you are clean, the sooner you will be able to get out.”

Hala rubbed the soap over her shivering body while Jalia walked over to the window to check on what the traders were up to. It was clear from what she could see that Hadon was getting ready to depart.

“I have to go and find Daniel,” she told Mara. “Can you sort out Hala while I’m gone?”

“It would be a pleasure,” Mara said a little grimly. “Her family never taught her to wash herself, by the look of it.”

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Jalia opined before she stepped out of the cottage door. The usual crowd of little girls and pubescent boys were waiting for her.