Pool of Radiance - James M. Ward [30]
The seamstress finished taking in the last tuck and handed her the tunic and pants to try on. When she had slipped the incredibly soft leather on, the woman helped her lace the leggings and girdle. "Very impressive, if I do say so myself, miss. The black looks good on you. Do you want to comb those tresses of yours and then take a look in the mirror in back?"
"I-I'll comb my hair; it must look awful. But I think I'll pass on the mirror. I trust your judgment." Shal shuddered at the thought of seeing her reflection. She'd seen the size of the pieces the seamstress worked with, and tucks or no, they were huge. Regardless of how the clothing might look on her, though, it felt wonderful. As soon as Shal finished brushing and combing her thick, long hair, she paid the seamstress the eight silvers she had asked for, plus a generous tip.
The moment the woman pulled open the curtains to the shop, Tarl entered. He was frankly stunned by what he saw. Shal's freshly combed red hair shone like highly polished rosewood against the deep black leather velour of the tunic. The green in her eyes blazed in the bright light of the seamstress's lanterns. Most of all, Shal's full figure was accented in devastating accuracy by the seamstress's careful tailoring.
"Pull your jaw up, boy," said the woman sternly. "You'd think you'd never seen a woman before."
"You look… great, Shal," Tarl said, faltering.
Great? Shal shook her head imperceptibly. She couldn't possibly look great, but she did have to admit that she felt a little less awkward with the new clothes on. Certainly her legs and arms didn't seem so conspicuously out of proportion now that she wore garments that were the right size. It helped, too, that the new leathers didn't bind her so tightly that she felt like an overstuffed sausage. "Thank you," Shal said absently, and she turned to leave.
Tarl followed her out like an adoring puppy. "Shal, I'd be honored if you'd allow me to help you find a place where you can stay tonight. Maybe we could have dinner together, if you feel up to it. I'd really like a chance to talk some more."
"I'd like that, too," said Shal. "But I could use a little time alone. I've lost something… some things… very dear to me recently, and I'm really not myself."
Tarl helped Shal mount Cerulean. "I know what you mean, Shal. I've lost something important to me, too. I think that may be why I felt such a special bond with you right from the start." Tarl mounted the horse behind her and wrapped his arms around her firm waist as they began to ride toward the center of town. He had yet to get a room for himself-he'd spent the previous night at the temple, and would probably do the same tonight-but he'd been told that the Laughing Goblin Inn offered safe, if a bit overpriced, lodging. He remembered the general direction but wasn't familiar enough with the town yet to know the most direct route to the inn. When they finally arrived and left Cerulean in the stable, Tarl had the distinctly odd feeling that the horse was annoyed with him.
The common room of the inn was already crowded. It took some time to locate the innkeeper, but fortunately there were vacancies. The prices Sot charged kept the inn from getting too full. "I'll show ya up to your room myself, miss," said Sot to the big woman. "Your dinner's included in the price," he added.
"For what you're charging the lady, you should throw in meals for a week, but we thank you nonetheless," Tarl said wryly.
Looking to Tarl and without missing a beat, Sot said, "It'll be another silver if you're planning on staying with her."
Tarl coughed. "I won't be, thank you. I'll see her to her room, though."
* * * * *
As Sot left the two of them, Tarl remained in the doorway. "Shal, take as long as you need. I'll be down in the common room waiting whenever you decide to come down."
"Thanks for all your help, Tarl. I won't be too long."
Tarl closed the door, and Shal stared straight ahead. Hanging on the inside of the doorway was a full-length mirror. She clasped