Red Magic - Jean Rabe [65]
The road narrowed as it wound between young birches, some of them recently planted. Wynter noted that many of the lower branches of the trees had been trimmed to shape them. Ahead, the land changed from flat meadows and landscaped orchards to low rolling hills. Cattle grazed on a rise to the left. Wynter stared at the slow-moving cows and imagined himself eating a thick steak.
His stomach rumbled again, and he turned and concentrated on Galvin and Brenna to keep his thoughts from food.
"It really itches!" Brenna complained.
"That's from shaving your head with a sword," Galvin explained.
"You shaved my head," she said tersely. "I only cut my hair off."
"Just don't scratch it," the druid scolded. "If you scratch it, it's going to itch all the more, and you'll leave welts."
"You're enjoying this," she fumed.
"Yes," Galvin answered simply, immediately regretting his response. He started shuffling down the road, hoping the argument had ended.
"Oaf!"
"At least I'm honest." Galvin sighed, wishing fervently he hadn't started the conversation. He picked up the pace, and Brenna kept at his shoulder.
"Try being a little more polite and a little less honest."
"I don't want you to stand out. We have to fit in, remember?"
"I know, I know. You needn't talk to me as if I were stupid," she huffed.
"Sorry." Galvin was a little surprised to find himself apologizing for something so trivial. "Besides, if you scratch, you might ruin the barbed whip Wynter painted."
Brenna smiled ruefully. "I want to find a mirror," she remarked. "Then I'm going to buy a hat, a broad-brimmed one that will cover up my bald head."
"We've more important things to do than go shopping," the druid interjected, stopping again and staring into her eyes. He was dreading entering the city, especially a Thayvian one, but he didn't want Brenna to know just how apprehensive he was. "We've got to find out where this Red Wizard Maligor is and what he's up to."
"And to do that," Brenna interrupted, "we'll have to poke around in Amruthar. You're going to draw too much attention if you parade around like that. Hence, we shop."
Galvin gave her a puzzled glance.
"Your clothes," she explained. "They're filthy and nearly worn out. I'll pass for a wealthy Thayvian easily enough, but no slave of mine is going to look like a herd of pigs trampled him. We'll get you into some better clothes, but nothing too fancy. And I could use another dress or two. If we have to spend more than one day in Amruthar, we're going to need more than one thing to wear."
Galvin frowned, then brightened. "It's a nice thought, but we haven't enough gold to buy clothes."
"Of course we do. You've got the gold you were going to pay the gnoll spy, and I have more than enough with me." Brenna jingled the coin purse at her side to emphasize her point. "And if we're really pressed, I can always sell my necklace. I have lots of others at home."
Defeated, Galvin nodded. She was enjoying this too much, he realized. Once again he envied the centaur; Wynter never had to bother about clothes.
"We have to get to Amruthar before we can do anything," he said, a bit sulkily. "We can't be too far now, can we, Wynter? Wynter?" Galvin glanced up the road, surprised to see the centaur several dozen yards ahead. The druid was amazed that he could become so engrossed in a discussion with the sorceress that he would lose track of what was going on around him.
Turning to face Brenna, Galvin saw her grinning broadly.
She started