back for you, so don’t think for a moment because you’re spending money on me - “
“I like them prettier, fatter, and older,” snapped Briar. He was privately ashamed that he hadn’t guessed she might think this. In her world, his old world, nobody gave anything for free. “And I used to be a better thief than you, too. Jebilu will pay me back.”
“I told you, I’m not - “
“Going to the palace,” Briar said, overriding her. “I didn’t forget. We’ll try to find a place where he’ll come to meet you. Then arrange whatever you like with him. All right? Are you happy? Can we finish this and get baths?”
Evvy glared at him, but she caught up and stayed in step with him all the way to the nearby souk. Luckily he’d brought extra cash in case he had to bribe the amir’s guards. When Evvy couldn’t decide between an orange tunic and a lavender one, Briar took both - they were secondhand, after all, and cheap. She ought to have more than one set of good clothes. They also found a black pair of loose trousers and a brown skirt that would fit her. Briar paid for everything, then held the clean and dirty clothes while Evvy slipped behind a curtain to change.
“She ought to have another headcloth or two,” the woman who sold the clothes said idly, as if she didn’t care if she earned a few davs more. “And a petticoat. She doesn’t have loincloths, either. I couldn’t help but notice.”
Briar looked at her, his mouth curled wryly. “And you just happen to have them.”
“Special price,” the woman assured him. “Since you’re getting several items.”
She did finally sell the extra clothes for a lower price than she’d first asked. That was because Briar had learned to dicker from Tris, who knew how to turn a bargain. Even Daja, who was born a Trader, let Tris handle the money when they shopped.
Homesickness. Back in the spring, when Rosethorn had suggested a trip east, with new plants and new uses for them, he had jumped at it. Living in a cottage with three girls and two women, closer to the girls than even a normal boy because they were all in each other’s minds, he couldn’t wait to get away. The idea of months without Sandry drafting him as a dressmaker’s dummy, or Daja going on at table over a new way to work metal, or Tris’s swings between lost-in-a-book oblivion and maturing-crosspatch, brought him out of Winding Circle in a flash. He hadn’t even minded saying goodbye to Lark. Sometimes Lark was a little too understanding, not to mention indecently aware of the thoughts that went through a growing boy’s mind when a pretty novice smiled at him. Rosethorn was uninterested in Briar’s changing view of girls who were not his housemates, and her own temper made it impossible for her to be too understanding, ever.
It was only after they’d been gone a week that Briar realized he was listening for the girls’ voices, and wondering what they were up to. It was harder to find good books without Tris, harder to get a good round of quarterstaff practice without Daja, and pouring his troubles into Rosethorn’s ears wasn’t as soothing as it was with Sandry. Sandry would listen solemnly, and sympathize, and tell him how wonderful he was. Briar knew better than to even suggest that Rosethorn treat him that way. He liked his nose - girls admired it. He didn’t want to give Rosethorn an excuse to bite it off.
The merchant woman took a loincloth and a headcloth behind the curtain. Soon afterward she emerged with Evvy. The girl was neatly dressed in the orange tunic and black trousers; a brown and orange headcloth covering her ragged hair. “I don’t see why you bother,” she grumbled.
“Because someone did it for me, four years ago. He’s always got more clothes than he needs, so he said I’d waste my time giving him more. He told me just do the same for someone else,” Briar said. He thrust the hemp bag with the other new clothes at her. “You get to carry ‘em,
“I like them prettier, fatter, and older,” snapped Briar. He was privately ashamed that he hadn’t guessed she might think this. In her world, his old world, nobody gave anything for free. “And I used to be a better thief than you, too. Jebilu will pay me back.”
“I told you, I’m not - “
“Going to the palace,” Briar said, overriding her. “I didn’t forget. We’ll try to find a place where he’ll come to meet you. Then arrange whatever you like with him. All right? Are you happy? Can we finish this and get baths?”
Evvy glared at him, but she caught up and stayed in step with him all the way to the nearby souk. Luckily he’d brought extra cash in case he had to bribe the amir’s guards. When Evvy couldn’t decide between an orange tunic and a lavender one, Briar took both - they were secondhand, after all, and cheap. She ought to have more than one set of good clothes. They also found a black pair of loose trousers and a brown skirt that would fit her. Briar paid for everything, then held the clean and dirty clothes while Evvy slipped behind a curtain to change.
“She ought to have another headcloth or two,” the woman who sold the clothes said idly, as if she didn’t care if she earned a few davs more. “And a petticoat. She doesn’t have loincloths, either. I couldn’t help but notice.”
Briar looked at her, his mouth curled wryly. “And you just happen to have them.”
“Special price,” the woman assured him. “Since you’re getting several items.”
She did finally sell the extra clothes for a lower price than she’d first asked. That was because Briar had learned to dicker from Tris, who knew how to turn a bargain. Even Daja, who was born a Trader, let Tris handle the money when they shopped.
Homesickness. Back in the spring, when Rosethorn had suggested a trip east, with new plants and new uses for them, he had jumped at it. Living in a cottage with three girls and two women, closer to the girls than even a normal boy because they were all in each other’s minds, he couldn’t wait to get away. The idea of months without Sandry drafting him as a dressmaker’s dummy, or Daja going on at table over a new way to work metal, or Tris’s swings between lost-in-a-book oblivion and maturing-crosspatch, brought him out of Winding Circle in a flash. He hadn’t even minded saying goodbye to Lark. Sometimes Lark was a little too understanding, not to mention indecently aware of the thoughts that went through a growing boy’s mind when a pretty novice smiled at him. Rosethorn was uninterested in Briar’s changing view of girls who were not his housemates, and her own temper made it impossible for her to be too understanding, ever.
It was only after they’d been gone a week that Briar realized he was listening for the girls’ voices, and wondering what they were up to. It was harder to find good books without Tris, harder to get a good round of quarterstaff practice without Daja, and pouring his troubles into Rosethorn’s ears wasn’t as soothing as it was with Sandry. Sandry would listen solemnly, and sympathize, and tell him how wonderful he was. Briar knew better than to even suggest that Rosethorn treat him that way. He liked his nose - girls admired it. He didn’t want to give Rosethorn an excuse to bite it off.
The merchant woman took a loincloth and a headcloth behind the curtain. Soon afterward she emerged with Evvy. The girl was neatly dressed in the orange tunic and black trousers; a brown and orange headcloth covering her ragged hair. “I don’t see why you bother,” she grumbled.
“Because someone did it for me, four years ago. He’s always got more clothes than he needs, so he said I’d waste my time giving him more. He told me just do the same for someone else,” Briar said. He thrust the hemp bag with the other new clothes at her. “You get to carry ‘em,
Similar Books
