The Magic of Recluce - L. E. Modesitt [40]
She liked it, that I could tell.
So I studied the trader. Assuming most people had a soul, or that inner spark that passes for it, he didn’t. There was no life beyond the physical, and I tried not to shiver.
That didn’t make his wares either good or bad, but it meant looking them over most carefully, and I wasn’t sure I was the one to do that. But the blade seemed all right.
Krystal set the sword on the felt, slowly.
“How much?” I asked.
“Ten gold pennies.”
Krystal looked at the blade. “It’s good, but you could buy a Recluce ordered blade and a scabbard for that.”
“It’s not ordered.”
I understood immediately. “That’s an advantage in Candar, but not for us.” I shrugged, and started to turn.
“Eight…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Krystal said quietly.
“Six…”
The west wind picked up, swirling my short hair.
Cracckkk…crackkkk…
“Five and a silver,” suggested the trader.
“Four and two silvers,” I countered.
“Done, apprentice.” His voice was still flat.
“Lerris…”
I ignored Krystal, knowing she could not pay for the blade; but she had not had anyone to help her, and I did not think my mother would have minded.
“But…”
The trader placed the sword in a cheap scabbard.
I dug out the price in coins, marveling that I had even thought to bring enough.
Crackkk…
The trader’s eyes kept darting toward me. He took the coins as if he wanted us to leave, without a nod, and I gave the sword and scabbard to Krystal.
“Lerris…” She tried to push it back at me.
I pulled my hands away, gambling that she wouldn’t want to drop the blade. “Let’s go. We can talk on the way.”
As we started toward the harbor wall, the trader began to pack his wares, hurriedly, but I ignored him, looking at Krystal. I wondered how he had gotten the devil-blade into the square, but that wasn’t my real concern at the moment.
“It’s yours.”
“I can’t take it.”
“It’s yours,” I repeated. “You need a blade, and you need it before you end up in Candar or Hamor.”
“I can’t…”
“Krystal…you need it. I know you need it, and you know that. Call it a favor. Call it a loan. Call it anything you want.”
She stopped. We were opposite the fourth pier, the one closest to the market square, and only a small sloop without an ensign was tied up. “We need to talk.”
“How about here?” I pulled myself up on the black stone wall. As I scrambled around, I scanned the harbor. Besides the sloop and an old sailing ship with a combination of masts I couldn’t identify, the harbor was empty. Not even a sign of a Brotherhood ship.
She set the scabbard and blade on the flat stones and vaulted up next to me. We sat with our backs to the water, facing a two-story building of black oak and black stone. The sign over the locked double doors read, in three languages it seemed, “Supplies.” The first line, in black, was Temple Script. The second was in green, which suggested Nordla, and the third was in purple, edged with gold.
It was funny, when you thought about it, that Candar and Recluce shared the old Temple Tongue, although there were people in all cities who did, since it was the main trade language, while Nordla and Hamor had totally separate languages. I would have expected Candar to have its own language.
I suppose that was why Magistra Trehonna insisted we learn a little of Nordlan and Hamorian.
“Lerris.” Krystal’s voice was insistent, breaking my reverie, overriding the lap, lap, lap of the waves against the stone seawall.
I shifted on the hard stone, turning toward her, but letting my feet dangle. She was already cross-legged.
“You didn’t have to do that. It’s not as though…I mean, I see how you look at Tamra…”
“Tamra…what does she have to do with anything? She’s an arrogant bitch.”
Krystal smiled faintly, but she didn’t giggle. She just waited, and the water lapped against the stones, and the wind gusted through