He had grown to both feel comfortable with her and to also feel embarrassed, especially when a misguided motion by either one of them led to contact that was too intimate. Sareen laughed or smirked, depending on the nature of the touch, while Silas only stammered or blushed.
“Am I here to help you out once again?” the girl spoke familiarly as she sauntered up to the wagon next to Silas. “Isn’t it enough that I have to teach you how to handle the sword?”
She was proving to be adept with a sword, and she was giving Silas an occasional piece of advice or two during practice, but Silas considered her words to be only marginally useful. He studied her face, checking to see if she was serious or mocking with her comments.
“Where are your mirrors?” she moved on to the topic at hand.
“Here’s one,” he reached into the stacks in the wagon bed and pulled out a smaller canvas wrapping. He handed the small mirror to the girl, then pulled out more, and stacked them on the horizontal tail of the wagon, which had become the operating display case for the mirrors that Sareen was unwrapping.
A wagon came into view on the road that the caravan had travelled on, and Silas paused to watch the vehicle pass by, as it drove into the nearby village. It had a team of six nicely matched horses pulling it along the road, and several brass implements gleamed brightly in the sunlight, reflecting and contrasting with the shiny painted exterior of the wooden coach. It was the most expensive vehicle Silas had ever seen.
“That’s too nice for any local gentry from around here,” Sareen murmured in Silas’s ear as she stood behind him, watching the carriage as well. “It must belong to some high-ranking nobleman who’s traveling through.
“This is a nice piece,” she held up the first mirror Silas had handed her, an oval framed mirror that had a fold-out stand attached in the back. She studied the mirror – and her own reflection – then unconsciously tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.
“A lady could use this in her boudoir to rearrange her appearance,” she spoke speculatively.
“Where’s a boudoir?” Silas asked of the unfamiliar word.
“It’s,” Sareen paused, as if about to explain something delicate. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “It’s back,” she said in a surprised tone. “The nobleman’s carriage is back.”
Silas turned to look, and saw the elaborate vehicle slowly returning from the direction of the village. It swung into the grassy edge of the pasture where the caravan had stopped. As it coasted to its stop, a pair of footmen emerged from hidden sets on the back, and held a carriage door open, with a pair of portable steps arranged to allow easy disembarkation.
Three men appeared at the carriage door, and stepped down into the grass. Silas observed that they murmured among themselves, hiding their words behind hands that covered their mouths, then started moving towards the caravan market. They appeared to be browsing among the wagons, shopping and observing the goods and materials for sale, but Silas lost track of their movements, when other customers began to inquire at his own wagon, asking about the mirrors on display.
He listened to Sareen explain the merits of each mirror, seeming to adjust her words to the character of each potential buyer she spoke to. For some customers it was a gift to give others, in a few cases the mirror was offered as an elegant decoration in a public room in a home, or perhaps a reflector of light that would brighten a dark room. Her sales talks interested and intrigued some buyers, while others walked quickly by. And many were distracted from her pitch by their first glance at Silas’s strangely-colored eyes.
“You need to go to the other end of the wagon and stop bothering my customers,” Sareen said crossly after multiple customers lost track of her comments while they stared in fascination at Silas.
“I’m just sitting here!” he protested, to little effect, as Sareen banished him to sit at the other end of the wagon and put a hood down over his face to mask his eyes, while she continued to peddle, and occasionally sell, the mirrors on the back of the wagon.
And then the three noblemen wandered by the wagon, and stopped to talk, perhaps drawn by the mirrors, or perhaps drawn by intriguing glances that Sareen shared with them.
“These mirrors are far and away the finest items we’ve seen for sale here,” one of the men spoke as he picked up an ornately-framed mirror.
”But perhaps only the second-finest sight in the fair,” a second man, one who wore a beard only on his chin, smiled at Sareen as he spoke.
“My lord should look in the mirror to see what fair sights there are at the moment,” Sareen coquettishly replied.
“Ah Graywold, here’s something to brighten up that home of yours….and a mirror too,” the third member of the trio bumped his shoulder into that of the bearded man with a laugh.
“Life would be much brighter with such an ornament, indeed,” Graywold dug an elbow into his friend’s rib.
The man began to inquire after a particular mirror on the wagon tail display, which led to a conversation between him and Sareen, while the other two noblemen choose to move on through the market place to observe the other wares that were on offer.
Silas sat and watched as the conversation by the two continued on and on, until the other noblemen returned.
“I’ll buy this one, this one, and this one,” Graywold announced as he pulled a number of mirrors to the side of the display. “I’ll send a man back to fetch them.”
“My lord will not regret the investment,” Sareen gave a modest curtsey, her head bowed to hide her demur smile. “I hope that when I travel to Avaleen I’ll hear good reports about the new fixtures in your home.”
“When you arrive in Avaleen, you must be sure to come to our home to see me, and the mirrors, more importantly, of course,” Graywold spoke immediately. “I’m sure my sister would want to show you the locations of the mirrors; they’ll be a gift for her of course, since there is no other important woman in my life besides her and my mother, at the present moment.”
“Surely my lord has some genteel lady whose heart has been given to him?” Sareen was standing erect once again, and staring directly at the nobleman.
“If only one would come forward,” the man melodramatically sighed.
Silas clenched his fists. He had no claim on Sareen at all, but his close relationship with the girl during all their weapons practices made him feel an entitlement to be considered as part of her life. And there had clearly been no thought about his view of the girl’s future as she had flirted with the nobleman who was inviting her to his home.
“We’re on our way to Avaleen, though we won’t travel as quickly as his lordship’s carriage,” Sareen offered information.
“We’re going directly there now; we were on our way from Hibbet’s estate when we stopped on a lark to see what amusements this market might offer,” Graywold replied. “We should reach the city the day before your caravan does. Be sure to ask about for directions to the family estate,” he added, as one of his companions tugged at his cape.
“Graywold, we really must resume the journey; I’ve got a ship to catch from the harbor, and the tides won’t delay because you’re infatuated with a lovely set of eyes,” one of the other nobles urged their departure.
The men were soon gone, a servant carrying the mirrors they had purchased, and Sareen watching them walk away, a broad smile on her face.
“So, you’re really going to go visit the nobleman, just because he handed out some compliments?” Silas slid down from his perch and returned to stand next to the lovely girl.
“He invited me to visit his sister and see the placement of the mirrors that I just sold him, at a very pretty profit for Prima, I might point out,” Sareen said primly. “It would certainly be a polite gesture on my part to accommodate such a worthy customer.
“Not that it’s any concern of yours, at any rate,” she told him.
“I’m only thinking of your safety and your reputation,” he answered awkwardly.
“My reputation is
quite good, thank you, and I’m learning quite well to protect my own safety, better than you, as a matter of fact,” she quickly replied in a scornful tone. “You can put these away, and I’ll give the sales proceeds to Prima,” she gestured at the remaining mirrors, then walked away.
The caravan wagons were soon repacked and on the move again. That evening, after they all rolled to a stop, Silas rushed Hron to the corral for feeding, then hurried to his weapons practice with Ruten and Sareen.
Ruten congratulated the girl on her successful sales, which Prima had bragged about during the afternoon portion of the ride. Sareen, in turn, celebrated her success by brutally beating Silas in every contest, until Ruten took mercy on the boy and cut the lesson short.
“I can take care of myself, as you can see,” Sareen hissed in Silas’s ear as the instructor left the practice ring. “Now, let’s get back to being friendly and minding our own lives. Shall we?”
“Okay,” Silas answered disconsolately.
He thought about the girl that night. He hadn’t ever told her that he felt any special relationship with her – a reason to give him a right to meddle in her affairs. And as he thought about her, he determined that for the most part, he didn’t feel he needed or wanted to have a relationship with her, beyond what they had. She was sufficiently pleasant, but not out-of-the-way nice, and she was very attractive, but not one who acknowledged many positive traits in others.
He wasn’t keen to apologize to her, but he would at least try to move past their contretemps about her friendliness with the passing noblemen. And when their visit to Avaleen came and went, and the nobleman Graywold had hopefully done no more than lightly embarrass her, the two caravan-bound budding fighters would be able to go on as before.
Chapter 21
Two and a half days later, the caravan arrived in Avaleen.
“We’ll be here for two or three days while we arrange shipping to take the caravan to Amenozume,” Prima told the members of his entourage. “Minnie will be in charge of delivering the goods we are bringing to customers here, as well as taking on new cargo. Follow her directions.”
And then Prima departed. The caravan was parked inside a dark warehouse close to the bustling docks in the city of Avaleen, but the workers from the caravan were allowed to leave the building in shifts, some going out to behold the life and pleasures of a large city, while others stayed behind to guard the wagons and their cargos, as well as to watch over and clean up after the herd of mules and horses.
Silas sat on a tall stool by the corral, watching over the herd of placid animals as he saw Sareen visit Prima’s wagon and begin speaking to Minnie in earnest tones. Silas could see a neutral expression on Minnie’s face, neutral at best, as she listened to Sareen. Minnie gave a short reply after a long speech by Sareen, and from the movements of Sareen’s head, Silas could see that the girl was immediately appealing the decision with passion.
Minnie’s eyes wandered about, no longer looking at Sareen as she seemingly no longer listened to the speech, but then she finished her roving survey of the caravan camp after she had looked at Silas, and she held an open palm up in front of Sareen, in a sign that caused the girl to cease her appeal. Minnie spoke something that made Sareen’s whole posture jerk erect in a joyful way. She spun around and looked over at Silas, then looked back at Minnie and bowed deeply.
And in the next moment she was running, holding her dress high with her hands to give her legs the maximum span possible for each speedy step. She flew towards Silas, her face displaying joyful rapture as she approached.
“Silas! We get to go out in the city together!” she was thrilled as she reached him and laid both her hands on his arm, squeezing tightly. “How soon can you be ready?” she asked.
“I’m watching the corral. Who’s going to keep an eye on the animals if I’m gone?” he asked. He was interested to going out into the city, but he was going to enjoy a turn doing so soon enough if he just waited for the other shift to return. And he wanted to make sure someone kept an eye on the placid herd of mules, in the event that something went wrong.
But it would also be nice to spend time with Sareen, just the two of them alone together as they explored the city.
“Minnie said we could go, and she’d send someone to watch the mules. Let’s get going, shall we?” Sareen asked impatiently.
Silas slid down off the stool he had perched on. “Let’s go by my wagon so I can get my wages,” each employee had been paid a portion of the wages they were due to receive. Prima had held some wages back for payment at a later date, as a motivator to make sure the employees would return.
With his coins in his purse, Silas was ready.
“Here,” Sareen pulled his hood up and adjusted it forward. “Let’s not make those eyes of your stand out too much,” she explained, then she grabbed his hand and began walking rapidly out of the caravan’s building.
“Excuse me,” she accosted a stranger the moment she was out of the building, “can you give me directions on how to get to New Fields?” she asked.
“Well, it’s about a half hour walk. You got to go up this road here for ten minutes until you come to the temple of Shaish, and then turn to your left, and that road will take you out to the estates in New Fields,” the man offered.
“Thank you,” Sareen pronounced her appreciation as she began dragging Silas along.
“Why are you going to New Fields?” Silas asked as they began to weave around the typical traffic that clogged the water front area – wagons, carts, stevedores, sailors on shore and women seeking their company.
“Greywold’s family estate is there,” the girl answered forthrightly.
“That nobleman who bought the mirrors?” Silas knew immediately who she was referring to. He’d not forgotten the name as he had mulled over his thoughts about Sareen during the caravan’s final leg of the trip to Avaleen.
“He insisted that I come to meet his sister and receive a tour of where they’ve placed the mirrors,” Sareen spoke with a defensiveness that Silas sensed was covering her own uncertainty about the trip they were taking.
Silas rolled his eyes but remained silent, as he wondered at the slim odds that the nobleman had really wanted Sareen to show up at his home, or if he did, whether his intentions for the visit were the same as her hopes.
They walked through the bustling industrial portions of the city closest to the harbor, where every variety of shop, from smithies to cooperages to ropeworks provided noises, fumes, traffic and goods that were destined to ship and sell and be used in the city or on the ships that waited to depart with the tide.
The nature of the neighborhood shifted as they moved further from the harbor. The working shops gave way to buildings full of cramped apartments and small, dark shops that seemed to sell alcohol, opium, games of chance, and tobacco more than any other goods. Men loitered on the streets, and commented or whistled as Sareen and Silas walked past.
The caravan pair instinctively closed the gap between them, and Silas switched sides with Sareen so that he walked closest to the walls and alleys where the men leaned and squatted.
“There’s the temple of Shaish where we turn,” Sareen pointed ahead after several uneasy moments of walking through the decrepit neighborhood.
“Perhaps we should walk back a different way when we return,” Silas suggested.
Before Sareen could answer, four men converged on the couple, three from the front and one from behind. The trailing man’s cough alerted Silas to his approach just as the boy was warily watching the three in front start to assume positions to block the walkway ahead. Silas lowered his hood and turned his head to see the man who held a club behind them. He quickly grabbed Sareen’s hand and pulled both of their bodies to the side, their backs against a wall while he freed his knife from his hip and held it in front.
“Look at the boy pretending to be a hero for his girl,” one of the men confronting them laughed as he pulled a sword from a hilt that was hidden behind his bac
k. Another man also revealed a sword, while the third showed his knife, as the man with the cudgel joined them in a half circle that blocked all avenues for escape.
“You let us talk to the girl while you go away, and nothing will happen to you,” the man with the cudgel said.
“Look at his eyes,” the attacker with the knife noticed Silas’s strange coloring.
“What is he, a demon? A plaything of the sprites?” the first swordsman asked.
“The sprites do like those colors,” the other swordsman agreed.
“Sprites?! They’re just a fairy tale. But this girl is real,” said the cudgel holder. “So you just run along boy,” he motioned with his weapon, indicating the way for Silas to leave.
Silas held his knife with assurance, the lessons from Ruten drilled into the muscles of his hand and wrist. He’d never in practice used a real blade, and he’d rarely been able to match Sareen in agility and capability, but he had some idea of what to do, and might be able to anticipate the moves of the attackers. Even if he was only a novice with a blade, he was a novice that was being trained by the masterful Ruten, and he suspected that gave him an advantage.
Plus, his blade was magical; it had demonstrated its ability in situations more dire than the threat by street ruffians.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Sareen spoke up. “I’ll give you all the money in my purse,” her fingers trembled as they untied the laces of the leather bag at her waist.
“Sure, we’ll take your money too, but that’s not what we’re looking for,” the man with the knife chuckled. His fingers reached towards Sareen as he began to step forward.
Silas launched an attack, thrusting with his knife, just as Ruten had taught, then slicing down. His blade struck the outstretched fingers of the robber, who shrieked and recoiled, cradling his wounded hand against his chest.
The Mirror After the Cavern Page 17
