Page 17 of Seven Ways to Kill a King
“We’ve not much in the way of options inside, but these are maybe more what you’re after.” She lifted the shortest of the three and flipped it down to hand to Miri by the grip. “Ned’s got a bit of a knack for this sort of steel. Shame he can’t sell it outside of town.”
Miri’s gaze shot up, but Cass cleared his throat before her words escaped. “Restrictions?” he asked.
The woman nodded, her hands coming to her hips. Her fingers were black with dust. “New rules every year.” She gave Cass a crooked smile. “Fancy seeing ‘em try to enforce that at Blackstone.”
So the rules were not coming from Pirn. It was new laws from Stormskeep or maybe the entire lot of those kings. Miri’s fingers tightened around the braided leather grip of her sword.
“Fits you well, then.” The woman’s head tilted as she appraised Miri’s slender form. “I reckon you could wield it for practice. But you’ve got no real reach with a weapon that size.” She hummed. “Come back to me when you’ve got this one mastered, and we’ll fit you with something with a bit more heft to it.”
“How much?” Cass’s tone was clipped but all for show. Miri knew how heavy the man’s coin purse was. He was Cass the trader, well versed in bargaining and dicker.
Miri stepped back a pace to fall into stance. She raised the sword and spun, testing its balance and trying a few basic moves.
The woman laughed. “She’s lost the deal for you before you’ve even started, boy. Look at her. You can’t take that blade from such a pretty bride.”
Miri did not have to turn around to see Cass’s expression. She could imagine it full well by then.
“Seventy,” he said. “It’s a fair price for us both.”
The woman scoffed. “Good steel’s near impossible to come by these days, and you well know it. Look at those blades on your hip.”
Cass had not displayed his best knives in the open, but that did not seem to matter one bit.
Miri turned back to face them, weighing the sword in both her hands. “I’ll need a sheath and a strap as well. Throw those in, and I can convince my husband it was worth his while.”
The woman cackled and patted Cass on the shoulder so hard he nearly stumbled.
Though Cass stared at Miri, she only said, “No sense in dally, my precious helpmeet. We’ve two more stops at least. I’ve a need for scarves and sweet-smelling soap, remember?”
Cass blinked at Miri then drew in a long-suffering breath and handed the woman her coins.
* * *
Cass carriedMiri’s sword as they traversed the market beneath a midmorning sun. The sense of chaos and riot of smells had intensified, in no small part because of the preparation of the midday meals. Meat roasted on large iron spits, and vegetables were being cooked into pottage or roasted in metal baskets over the fire. Miri sidestepped a cluster of rowdy men to slip into a tent with candles and oil. Cass followed her, his constant scrutiny on the crowd.
A young girl approached Miri, her copper hair in a crown of braids. “Can I interest you in some oils, miss?”
“Yes,” Miri said. “Indeed.”
The girl’s sharp green eyes took Miri in, and her freckled cheeks plumped when she smiled. “I’ll wager you’re a mint-and-lavender sort.”
“You’ll wager nothing at all!” The voice came from an older woman crouched beneath a table, stacking glass bottles into a crate. She had the same copper hair, only two shades lighter.
The girl rolled her eyes. “And for him,” she said, gesturing at Cass as if she’d not been reprimanded at all, “sandalwood and sage.”
Miri chuckled. “Aye, boys are a stinky lot. Maybe something stronger.”
The girl nodded sagely. “I’ve just the thing.” She gestured for Miri to follow, but it was only two steps to her table of wares. She offered up vials for appraisal, and Miri smelled rose water, lily, cloves, and lemon while Cass perused the deadlier stock on the shelves behind them.
She needed something in a powder and two kinds of oil. As the girl chattered about heated salves and the medicinal benefits of saffron and iris, Miri closed her eyes to take the various scents in. The musky, soil aroma of patchouli in one vial was replaced by another, its scent woody and something like lemongrass or citronella. Miri’s cheeks heated when she realized what it reminded her of—it smelled like Cass. She opened her eyes, placing the stopper back in the vial.
The girl’s smile warmed. “Oh, you like that one. That’s vetiver. Excellent for repelling lice.” She took the vial from Miri and set it aside in a pile of possible purchases. “You’ll need some almond oil for base, and we’ve got fresh cinnamon bark just in from Smithsport. It was delivered today.”
The word cut through Miri’s distraction, driving a sudden spike of fear through her veins. She’d no idea why, because truly, goods from Smithsport were exported to every city in the realm. She suddenly felt Cass beside her. His presence was a calming reminder she was not alone and that nearly no one knew who she truly was. She pressed away the voice that said the count of those people was fewer and fewer every day and that she might never be that person again.
“Have you found what you need, my lady?” Cass’s voice was gentle, his entire manner attentive and nothing like that of a thief. Miri hoped he didn’t haggle with the merchants, at least, to make up for the offense of pocketing poisons when the girl’s attention had been turned away.
Miri nodded, and the woman approached from her bottle-sorting task, her sleeves rolled up, presumably to keep the oils from the cloth. Miri smiled automatically in greeting, but her eyes caught on the edge of a dark mark on the woman’s skin. Miri felt her face go slack, and the woman jerked her arm away to brusquely unroll the sleeve to its place.
