The Limbreth Gate. Megan Lindholm

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СКАЧАТЬ an apprentice, or a bridegroom?’

      She quailed and accused together. ‘Well, you’re wearing the hawk, and you’ve got the scar. Oh, this is always my luck, it is! Look, don’t be angry! If you haven’t got a wedding night to go to, stay here, and I’ll make you think you’ve had one. Only don’t hit me and break up my things! Please!’ Tears welled, exposing the child, and Vandien was disarmed.

      ‘That’s all right,’ he assured her, backing away. ‘It was just a mistake. Don’t do anything so damn foolish again. Didn’t you wonder what kind of a man would set you up to bear the brunt of another’s anger?’

      ‘He gave me three times what I asked,’ she said defensively, and Vandien saw it was useless.

      ‘I’m going,’ he replied, quite unnecessarily. He limped from the room, his leg still bending strangely whenever he put weight on it.

      The darkened stairs were a challenge he nearly didn’t meet. At the bottom he stopped to catch his breath and get his bearings. His head was as hazy as a drunkard’s. He would find his way back to the market, and then to the tavern. Ki was going to be annoyed at waiting so long for him; until he told his story. Then she would be amused. Neither appealed.

      A horse snorted in the darkness. Vandien froze, letting his eyes adjust. His horse. Still saddled, and tied to a bush outside this seedy building.

      He tried to make sense of it. Someone had made a very thorough mistake in identifying him. Not likely. Ki had set it up as a prank, complete with hawk necklace. It was more likely that Ki would hire an assassin. So. Your head is fuzzy and you won’t find any answers here in the dark. Get you to a tavern.

      He mounted with difficulty. He had to grab the knee of his bad leg to get it properly placed. Once he was up, it was better than walking. Ki had chosen this animal for him. It was taller than one he would have picked, and uglier. But she had assured him that once she was finished with it, he would be able to trade it for whatever he wished. He had been skeptical. But now that she had wormed it, and her oil and herb mixture was improving its coat, it was a decent-looking mount. He was just lucky it hadn’t been stolen while it was tied there. That was another thing Ki would never have done: she would never have left a valuable animal and saddle standing in the dark. No, it wasn’t Ki.

      Her wagon wasn’t under the sign of the Contented Duck, and she wasn’t inside. Cursing the strange turn of his luck, Vandien limped to a table and sat down to think. He ordered Alys to clear the thick taste from his mouth, and sat rubbing at his tingling leg. The dead spot in the center of his hip still bothered him. He could not resist tapping a finger against it. Nothing. His finger could feel the outline of the small wound, but his hip didn’t know it. He wondered how long before that would pass.

      A dark and sullen boy brought Vandien his Alys. Vandien held up the coin to pay him, but did not release his grip on it. The boy glowered at him.

      ‘I need to ask you a question. I’m looking for a woman, a little shorter than I am, green eyes …’

      ‘I know a man named Sidrathio; he can get you any kind of woman you fancy, short ones, tall ones, ones that …’

      ‘No.’ Vandien broke the boy’s litany. ‘I am looking for a particular woman; I think she was here earlier. Green eyes, brown hair worn loose, a yellow blouse …’

      ‘The tavern has been very busy. I could have seen her and not noticed.’

      Vandien’s hand went to his coin purse and the boy’s eyes darted after it. Vandien set the money for the Alys on the table, and a second small coin atop it. ‘Yellow blouse and a blue skirt and boots.’

      The coins vanished. ‘Sidrathio’s women will dress any way to please you, and know skills that …’

      ‘Go!’ Vandien waved him off in disgust. ‘I wonder,’ he mused softly to himself, ‘if the age of a city has anything to do with how much rot runs through it. Or do I look so salacious and deprived …?’ Even as he spoke, Vandien realized he was still rubbing his leg under the table. He broke off with a woeful laugh.

      Despite the serving boy’s claim, the tavern was not busy. It was past the hour for casual drinking. Only determined drinkers and local sots filled the chairs. Vandien raised his glass for more Alys and wondered which group he belonged with. He forced his muzzy brain to think. If Ki had not been here, or if she had gone, it all came to the same thing. Either she had left without him in a fit of pique at his tardiness, or she had been rousted out of town. Where would she go? If rousted, probably to whatever Gate was closest; if she were allowed to choose. His mind balked away from the thought of her in trouble. If she had chosen her own direction, which way would she go? Perhaps to the southwest, with its rumors of spices and rare woods to haul? For a moment Vandien’s fancy galloped down strange roads in pursuit of her, through foreign landscapes and cities of strange folk and customs. Then he reined it in, and with a sigh he knew she would go back north, to her regular routes, where she knew the quirks of the roads and merchants were eager to hire her. So he had best ride out the North Gate tonight. Unless she had been rousted and forced out on another road; unless she were in danger even now.

      Vandien growled softly in frustration. His serving boy stared at him speculatively. Vandien traded him a glare. If Ki had been rousted from here, then surely someone had seen or heard of it. Again his eyes roved the tables. None of the patrons looked likely to volunteer information. The innmaster himself was a leering brute of aggressive hairiness. The other serving boy … perhaps. He had been polishing the same spot of table for a full five minutes, with his eyes more on the door than on his work. He was a slight and pale youth, his thin shoulders bowed forward in a permanent cower. Vandien flipped up a small coin and let it fall ringing on his tabletop. The boy didn’t turn to the sound of it. So strange a behavior was this for a serving boy that Vandien wondered if he were deaf. Hastily he tossed down the rest of his Alys and held up the glass.

      ‘Lad?’ he called.

      The boy flinched and turned at the same instant. He came to Vandien’s table as reluctantly as a kicked dog. Vandien liked Jojorum less and less with each passing moment.

      ‘I’m looking for a friend,’ Vandien began gently. The boy’s eyes went wide, his pupils filling them with blackness. ‘If you haven’t seen her, tell me so. I won’t be angry. She is slender, a bit shorter than myself, green eyes and brown hair, wearing a yellow blouse.’

      Already the boy was shaking his head in a terrified manner, so that his fine pale hair stood out around his face like a halo. His eyes whipped back to the door, but his danger came from another direction.

      ‘Wretch! Don’t shake your head, fill his glass! He didn’t come here to look at it empty, and I don’t feed you to deny the customers. About your work, or do I take a fist to you?’

      The boy’s whole body jerked in apprehension, his face crumpling into tears even as the promised blow fell. There was a solid smack of flesh against flesh, and a loud grunt of surprise from the innmaster. Vandien’s capable fingers tightened on his soft white wrist until the flesh stood out between them in red bulges.

      ‘Child beatings always detract from the pleasures of drinking. Do not you agree?’ His tone was conversational, but Vandien’s fingers continued to tighten until the innmaster made a sound, half grunt, half gasp, of agreement. The boy was white, sagging against the table, his shock at being defended almost as stunning as a blow.

      Vandien rose without releasing the innmaster’s wrist. The man still stood half a head taller than Vandien, but Vandien was road hard and whiplash limber. СКАЧАТЬ