The cat had deserted him a while back. Once it realised he’d run out of food and intelligent things to say probably.
Discovering he was still holding his pipe absently in one hand, he placed it down in the ashtray, stem hanging over the edge, and smiled at the woman opposite. She would have been quite a beauty in her youth, he noted, indeed was a handsome woman now, in that thick limbed way reserved for bakers and those who chose a life of manual labour. Her ample bosom kept everything in proportion, suggesting at least three or four bouts of childbearing at some point in her past.
“I’m Naria, of the Combe traders,” she said, extending a hand across the table, which he accepted, enjoying the dry, accommodating touch of her skin. She smiled as she leant back again. “Can I get you another?”
He glanced at his own empty tankard and nodded sheepishly. She raised a hand, and a moment later his quiet ally had returned, with a fresh tankard for him and another mug for the Caravaness, who smiled her thanks, slipping the girl a coin as she gathered their empties.
“Maria’s a good child, I’ve been trying to persuade her to up sticks with me for the last couple of years,” Naria mused, watching as the girl walked away.
“She does seem a little… with it…? To be stuck here,” Ikari replied, gratified the whole sentence made it out in the right order.
The older woman smiled. “That she does.” She eyed him thoughtfully across the table. “So, what brings you to this fair hearth? I’ve not seen one of the Bound outside the Grove in a good few years now.”
He nodded. “I’m making the journey to the coast, and ultimately Carpassan.”
One eyebrow rose thoughtfully as she lifted her mug. “I’m going to assume you’ve taken ship before…?”
He nodded again, smiling as he glanced down at the table. “When I was twenty one…” He regarded her politely neutral expression “…which would have been just after the turn of the century.”
“You remember the Millennium then?”
His smile turned self-deprecating. “I wouldn’t say remember…”
Laughter took the years from her. “But you were there.”
“Aye, I was there.” He shook his head. “It was an exciting time. Well, supposedly. That’s what my parents kept telling me anyway.”
“Not quite the utopia you’d been hoping for?”
“I was a student of history.” He met her gaze, saw the understanding there he’d been uncertain he would get. She obviously caught some of his sentiment on the breeze, as her own eyes turned serious.
“You made an odd choice, given.”
“I took the only path left to me,” he replied, surprised at the surge of bitterness that threatened to drown his heart.
The hand suddenly resting on his was a surprise that almost made him jump. He raised his eyes cautiously, tracing the line of her arm up to her guarded face.
“A friend unlooked for is a rare gift,” she said, before releasing his hand.
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, glancing out at the room. No one was paying them any thought. He felt her hand disengage as she sat back.
“You’re heading down to the coast on the morrow?”
“Setting off at first light,” he confirmed, reaching for his pouch and pipe. Sobriety had become a real possibility, rearing its ugly head prospectively. He’d never sleep if that happened. “Yourselves?”
“Up the mountain,” she replied, grinning woefully. “Got a promise on with some folks in Junon to deliver a fresh batch of sugar cane for someone’s birthday.” She shook her head with a chuckle. “Made the boys get up at dawn on the first day of the Fall, so we’d make it this far.”
Ikari grinned. “Bet that was a popular decision.”
She shook her head. “You should have seen the state of some of them. Still, be worth it to put one over the Jurai.”
“I’m sure.” He finished packing the bowl of his pipe, then glanced about, realising he didn’t have an actual flint to hand.
“Go ahead,” she suggested, levering herself out of the seat in a manoeuvre that conveniently put her between him and the bar. He nodded thanks, lighting the bowl discreetly.
“I’ve a favour to ask myself,” she said, pausing where she stood. He gestured for her to continue. “I was wondering if you’d take some mail back down hill with you? They’ve facilities in Mestrarl now, if memory serves. It’ll get where it’s going from there.”
“Sure, of course.”
She nodded. “I’ll leave it with Maria, she’ll see you get it before you set off.” She extended a hand, which he clasped. “Pleasure meeting you…”
“Ikari,” realising with a touch of embarrassment he’d neglected this nicety earlier, “Ikari Trosan.”
“Trosan…” she nodded thoughtfully. “As I said, a pleasure. Safe journey for the morrow.”
“You too,” he replied, watching her retreating back. Sighing, he levered himself to his own feet, ignoring the spasms of protest from within. It was high time he sought a bed; the journey tomorrow would be no kinder, despite the flatter terrain he could look forward to.
Glancing out over the room, he caught Maria’s eye. She nodded, beckoning to him. He hobbled gratefully across the floor, following her stiffly up the stairs towards sweet oblivion between fresh sheets.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends