method of transport. However, Tevi soon acquired a degree of competence on horseback.
They entered Scathberg eighteen days after leaving Torhafn. The sun was high as they rode down the main street, lined with shops and houses. The architecture bore a strong resemblance to the richer parts of Torhafn, with grey stone buildings and slate roofs, but there was no way Tevi could confuse the two towns.
“It feels friendlier,” she said to Verron.
“True. You don’t have to sit with your back to the wall in the taverns.”
The distinctive sound of a market was growing louder, a hubbub overlaid with the shouts of peddlers. Just before they reached it, the wagons turned into a courtyard and came to a halt. A thin young man of twenty or so stepped out of a doorway. Although it was midday, his bleary eyes and dishevelled clothing revealed that he had not long been awake. The dark shadow of stubble on his jaw allowed Tevi to be sure of his gender.
Marith jumped down. “Well met, Yarle.”
“Well met, Marith, Verron.” He gave a half-hearted nod.
“Is your mother available?”
“She died last autumn. I’m running the business now,” Yarle said, looking at his feet.
Marith floundered for a suitable response. “I’m sorry to hear that. I enjoyed doing business with her.”
“She got a fever.”
“That’s tragic. She wasn’t old.”
Yarle shrugged. He clearly did not want to discuss it. “You’re here to trade?”
“Of course. I’ll show you our goods.” Marith took her lead from the young man.
A tap on her knee made Tevi look down. Verron had wandered around the wagon. “We’ll leave Marith to it. She works best on her own.” He raised his voice. “I’m going to show Tevi around the market. You can meet us at the Three Barrels when you’re finished. I’ll reserve a couple of rooms.”
“That’ll be fine,” Marith called back, preoccupied with the business of barter. She spared no more attention as Tevi and Verron left the courtyard, accompanied by the two boys.
*
Marith joined them an hour later, sitting on benches outside the inn, overlooking a small square. Around the central fountain, children were playing and a few servants stood gossiping. Porters trundled across pushing handcarts or balancing baskets on their heads. In the distance, the Aldrak Mountains raised their snow-covered peaks against a clear blue sky.
“How did it go with Yarle?” Verron asked.
“Like a lamb to the slaughter. I almost felt sorry taking the money. He’ll never be in business by next year. He’s got as much talent for bargaining as I have for flying.”
“Did you get the shirt off his back?” Verron teased.
“You could have given him an easy deal,” Kimal added mischievously.
“We’re not in business for charity. If I don’t get his money, someone else will. But it’s a shame. I respected his mother.” Marith shook her head. “Are you ready to see to the wagons?”
Verron answered by standing and linking arms. Tevi and the two boys followed. While she walked, Tevi considered Yarle’s situation. Her island-born morality was appalled at the thought of a young man, helpless and alone, being cheated—not that Marith was dishonest, but the experienced trader had an unfair advantage.
Tevi turned to Kimal. “Is there no one to help Yarle? Doesn’t he belong to a guild or something?”
“You don’t get guilds here—not the same as in the Protectorate. Anyway, from what Mama said, I can’t see a guild lending him money.”
“He wouldn’t need to borrow money; he’s got his mother’s.”
“But in the Protectorate, he wouldn’t have inherited the money.”
“Why not?”
“Because, strictly speaking, it wouldn’t have been hers in the first place.”
“Who would it belong to? The Coven?”
“No, the guild, of course.” Kimal’s tone implied that the answer was obvious.
“Your parents have got money...haven’t they?”
“Not really. When they finished their
They entered Scathberg eighteen days after leaving Torhafn. The sun was high as they rode down the main street, lined with shops and houses. The architecture bore a strong resemblance to the richer parts of Torhafn, with grey stone buildings and slate roofs, but there was no way Tevi could confuse the two towns.
“It feels friendlier,” she said to Verron.
“True. You don’t have to sit with your back to the wall in the taverns.”
The distinctive sound of a market was growing louder, a hubbub overlaid with the shouts of peddlers. Just before they reached it, the wagons turned into a courtyard and came to a halt. A thin young man of twenty or so stepped out of a doorway. Although it was midday, his bleary eyes and dishevelled clothing revealed that he had not long been awake. The dark shadow of stubble on his jaw allowed Tevi to be sure of his gender.
Marith jumped down. “Well met, Yarle.”
“Well met, Marith, Verron.” He gave a half-hearted nod.
“Is your mother available?”
“She died last autumn. I’m running the business now,” Yarle said, looking at his feet.
Marith floundered for a suitable response. “I’m sorry to hear that. I enjoyed doing business with her.”
“She got a fever.”
“That’s tragic. She wasn’t old.”
Yarle shrugged. He clearly did not want to discuss it. “You’re here to trade?”
“Of course. I’ll show you our goods.” Marith took her lead from the young man.
A tap on her knee made Tevi look down. Verron had wandered around the wagon. “We’ll leave Marith to it. She works best on her own.” He raised his voice. “I’m going to show Tevi around the market. You can meet us at the Three Barrels when you’re finished. I’ll reserve a couple of rooms.”
“That’ll be fine,” Marith called back, preoccupied with the business of barter. She spared no more attention as Tevi and Verron left the courtyard, accompanied by the two boys.
*
Marith joined them an hour later, sitting on benches outside the inn, overlooking a small square. Around the central fountain, children were playing and a few servants stood gossiping. Porters trundled across pushing handcarts or balancing baskets on their heads. In the distance, the Aldrak Mountains raised their snow-covered peaks against a clear blue sky.
“How did it go with Yarle?” Verron asked.
“Like a lamb to the slaughter. I almost felt sorry taking the money. He’ll never be in business by next year. He’s got as much talent for bargaining as I have for flying.”
“Did you get the shirt off his back?” Verron teased.
“You could have given him an easy deal,” Kimal added mischievously.
“We’re not in business for charity. If I don’t get his money, someone else will. But it’s a shame. I respected his mother.” Marith shook her head. “Are you ready to see to the wagons?”
Verron answered by standing and linking arms. Tevi and the two boys followed. While she walked, Tevi considered Yarle’s situation. Her island-born morality was appalled at the thought of a young man, helpless and alone, being cheated—not that Marith was dishonest, but the experienced trader had an unfair advantage.
Tevi turned to Kimal. “Is there no one to help Yarle? Doesn’t he belong to a guild or something?”
“You don’t get guilds here—not the same as in the Protectorate. Anyway, from what Mama said, I can’t see a guild lending him money.”
“He wouldn’t need to borrow money; he’s got his mother’s.”
“But in the Protectorate, he wouldn’t have inherited the money.”
“Why not?”
“Because, strictly speaking, it wouldn’t have been hers in the first place.”
“Who would it belong to? The Coven?”
“No, the guild, of course.” Kimal’s tone implied that the answer was obvious.
“Your parents have got money...haven’t they?”
“Not really. When they finished their
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