by Jean Johnson
"Does he even have any trade skills?" Ysander countered. "Or does he plan to live on your wages as a Healer?"
"She'll be a properly trained mage, not a Healer," Kenyen countered. "I'm quite sure that Family Tiger will gladly pay for her education, particularly if she agrees to come live among us, since real mages are so rare and treasured among my kind—and as for trade skills, I've made enough money as a traveling warrior and a merchant-trader that the marriage bowl I bought was no more than the cost of loose change to me... and I am not the wealthiest of my kin."
"He's telling you the truth." The support came from Manolo, who had approached the small group next to the forge entrance. "Family Tiger is much like one of your larger holdings, in that it is comprised of many kin-based families who pool their resources together," the middle-aged shifter explained. "Tiger is one of the smallest Families in Clan Cat, but we are the wealthiest, because we train our warbands to be shrewd negotiators as well as effective warriors. Your daughter will be well-supported by her husband and his kin."
"That's assuming she'll move to the Plains," Ysander countered, turning to face the other man. "When in fact, she will come back from her training to live here, with us."
"She will decide where she wants to live, and what she wants to do with her life," Kenyen asserted, frowning at his father-in-law. "Not you, and not anyone else!"
"Wrong," Solyn quipped tartly, capturing the attention of all three men. All four, if one counted her silently amused best friend. "My husband and I will decide what we want to do with our lives. So, Husband," she said, looping her arms around Kenyen's neck. "What should we do, next?"
"Well, I suggest we politely ask your family to sponsor you to a mage school," Kenyen offered, thinking quickly. He didn't have to think hard about it, though, since they'd already discussed something along these lines. "At least until such time as Manolo can head back to the Plains, explain what's been happening, and return from Family Tiger with my share of funds to support us while you get the training you need. The Magister has promised to protect your family."
"Yes, well, the whole valley will need it, thanks to her talking so much about the secret of greensteel just now," her father groused. "Even if we're kept safe from the evil shifters, everyone will be wanting greenvein cheese for making Healer's blades."
"Not to mention my people will want to do some heavy trading in the cheese so those of us allergic to magic going off in our presence will stop sneezing," Kenyen muttered.
"Father, stop complaining," Solyn ordered, rolling her eyes. "We're finally getting rid of the bad shifters, and we're going to make a very nice profit selling all those blades."
"Knowing your mother, she'll want me to sell them at barely above cost, so every Healer for a dozen kingdoms around can afford one," Ysander muttered, glancing at his wife, who was chatting with her sister and several other women of the valley, discussing the events of the day.
"Well, there's always the sale of the cheese," Kenyen pointed out. "You've already been selling us the special tea for making bluesteel and made a good profit on that."
The blacksmith eyed him in suspicion. "Cheese, cheese, cheese! I suppose you'll want to be one of the ones making all that profitable cheese... and waxing it, too?"
Of the five of them, only Manolo and Traver didn't get the joke. Kenyen and Solyn first quivered, then choked, and finally howled with laughter, clinging to each other. Even Ysander gave up and chuckled. As far as euphemisms went, Solyn's mother was more than right: Waxing the cheese was one of the worst, if not also one of the best.
Then again, Gods willing, Kenyen thought, snickering into her shoulder, we'll have the chance to "wax the cheese" for many more years to come.
Table of Contents
Synopsis
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Nine
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Thirteen
