The Towers of the Sunset - L. E. Modesitt [49]
Creslin can feel the red creep up his face and reaches for his mug.
“What’s so funny?” demands Willum.
“Nothing . . . nothing.” But even Vierdra is having a hard time keeping a bland expression on her face.
Walter sees nothing humorous in the situation, as shown by the sour turn of his lips. “Women . . .” he mutters, so quietly that only Creslin hears him.
Even Derrild smiles, shaking his head. “To be young again . . .” Then he looks at Charla, bends close to her, and his lips brush her cheek.
Creslin swallows, realizing he has never seen, never experienced, such banter. He sips the redberry slowly.
The sweets do arrive: a heavy, dark pudding accompanied by thin, honeyed biscuits. Creslin has only a small portion of the pudding, sensing it is far too rich for him. Neither the Marshall nor the guards indulged in such solid sweets, insisting instead on fruit or plain biscuits. He glances toward the end of the table, where most of young Willum’s face is covered with dark goo. He manages not to smile.
“Good!” smacks the boy as he crunches another honey biscuit.
“That’s enough!” snaps Waltar at his son.
Vierdra lays a hand on the man’s sleeve.
“He’s acting like a hog,” mutters Waltar.
“He’s acting like a boy.”
Creslin swallows again, feeling his eyes burn, but not quite understanding why, and takes refuge in another sip of redberry. His glance strays to the small guitar hanging on the wall.
Lorcas’s eyes follow his.
“Do you play, too?”
Creslin shakes his head. “Not well enough to play in public. I used to amuse myself with the music. It seems like a long time ago.”
“Got that guitar in Suthya, years ago,” rumbles Derrild. “Tyrell could play it, but I think he was the last guard who could. Sometimes I could get Vierdra to strum a melody . . . you up to that, lass?”
The young mother smiles. “With my friend here? Not tonight, I think.”
Derrild glances around the table, then clears his throat. “Let’s go over to the account room,” he suggests in the silence that has followed his daughter’s polite refusal. “Get that taken care of.” He rises.
Creslin stands, then turns to Charla. “My thanks again, lady, for a tasty and hearty meal.” He steps back. “And to all of you, for making me feel welcome.” He grins at Willum, then turns to follow the trader.
“. . .no hired blade. Bet he’s a duke’s bastard or something.”
“. . . that silver hair . . . you ever see anything like it?”
Both unattached daughters keep their eyes on Creslin even as they rise from their chairs.
Again Creslin ignores the whispers and follows the trader.
Derrild is lighting the oil lamp on the wall of the small room. A set of racked strongboxes fills one short wall, enclosed in a cage of cold iron bands thicker than a man’s wrist. A table and four chairs take up most of the floor space. One chair, the one behind the table, has a thick pillow on the seat.
“Sit down while I get the ledger and tote up the numbers.”
Hylin slouches in a chair; Creslin eases into another. Derrild removes a heavy bound book from above the iron cage.
Hhhmmm . . . Creslin started on the eighth, off of the Cerlyn road. Let’s say we give him the benefit of the whole leg. That’s be two silvers for straight pay, and another— say, four—for the two attacks, and the two for the black stallion. That’s be eight. We got back with what we started, and no breakage. So there’s a bonus there of half a gold. Say a gold and a half.”
Derrild does not look up as he jots down numbers with the quill, dipping into the ink pot.
“You, Hylin . . . you get the straight pay, plus four for the attacks and a half gold for the bonus.”
Hylin nods. “Seems fair enough.”
Creslin senses that both men feel the pay is fair, and nods.
“Now, you also get breakfast and a bed, and that’s worth something in this thieving town.” Derrild looks up from the ledger at Creslin with a sad expression on his face. “Those girls of mine, Creslin . . . well . . . they think a pretty face and a quick blade’s everything.”
Creslin understands. The trader is bound by his own bargain, and he knows he cannot threaten Creslin.