The Dragon Revenant - Katharine Kerr [86]
“It’s supposed to be a real marvel, or so I’ve heard,” the fruit seller remarked. “He does it with incenses and powders, but it’s all very convincing.”
“Oh, we’ll come into town to have a look at that,” Gwin said, smiling. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
When they went into town to see the show, Gwin wore a pair of tall riding boots that laced up the front, a style influenced by but not copied from the barbarians, and cut loose to leave enough room inside for a very thin, very narrow steel dagger. He carried one in each boot. The night was cool and brilliantly clear, the stars glowing steadily, the moon an icy crescent. Even though the marketplace was half deserted, there was a good-sized crowd huddled below the terrace where the wizard Krysello was scheduled to perform, with his incense braziers and red-and-gold drapes already in place. As Gwin and Pirrallo found a spot off to one side, they heard people talking about the show in excited whispers. Some local merchants who’d seen the barbarians over in Pardidion or down in Ronaton had brought descriptions of this “magic” home with them. One of them was standing to Gwin’s left, a fat man in a red cloak, his hands flashing with rings as he gestured and bellowed at a skinny woman dressed in layers of rich silk.
Pirrallo nudged Gwin in the ribs in an infuriating way and whispered, speaking in the Orystinnian dialect, which would be hard to understand here in Albara.
“We may not be able to get close to them in this press.”
“Shouldn’t even try, this first night.” Gwin answered in the same. “All I want to do is follow them back to their inn and see where they’re staying.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Only probably?”
“I’m the one who makes the final decisions now, remember. You’re very good at your line of work, but after what happened in Deblis …”
Pirrallo actually smiled. Gwin found it amazing, that the toad would be stupid enough to keep baiting one of the best assassins in the islands. It occurred to him then that perhaps the Hawkmaster was testing Pirrallo’s competence as much as anyone’s. Though the thought was intriguing, he had no time to develop it, because the wizard and his two barbarians were strolling out onto the terrace. When the crowd pressed close and clapped in anticipation, Krysello bowed with a flamboyant wave of one hand, and the girl curtsied with the bright grin of a hardened performer, but Rhodry merely stood toward the rear and glowered, as if he felt the whole thing a humiliation. Seeing him again tore at Gwin’s heart.
“Welcome, welcome, oh exalted folk of Bardek, to my humble and unworthy display of barbarian marvels.” Krysello bowed again before he went on. “Let me say first that I’ve heard crass and contemptible gossip, slanders all of it, stating that I perform my wizardry with chemicals, black wires, powders, hidden patches of glue, and other kinds of vile and vulgar trickery, unfit for your glorious eyes to behold. No, no, no, a hundred times no! Everything you will see tonight is true magic, barbarian witch sorcery as taught in the wild mountains of Deverry.”
When the crowd giggled, Krysello bowed, grinning.
“He oozes sincerity, doesn’t he?” Pirrallo muttered. “The man’s a splendid showman.”
Gwin merely shrugged; marketplace entertainments meant nothing to him. Yet, when Krysello pointed with a flourish at one of the braziers, which burst into a tower of gold fire, Gwin caught his breath just as loudly as the rest of the crowd.
“Brimstone,” said the fat merchant to his wife. “You can tell by the color.”
Pirrallo nodded a smug agreement as the other brazier bubbled over with yellow smoke