Read Online Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses) by Sharon Shinn - Free Book Online
Authors: Sharon Shinn
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Wen looked around her with interest. It was a busy and crowded town, one of the major seaports of the south, and within ten minutes she noticed the whole range of humanity striding by—sailors, soldiers, merchants, noblewomen, beggars, and a pickpocket or two. The smells of salt air, wet wood, fish, and horse were particularly strong, though overlaid now at dinnertime with the more appetizing scents of meat and onion.
“I hope our pay covers a real room for the night and enough money to buy a meal,” Wen said as she trotted along next to Orson. No need to keep a rear guard here in the city. There was hardly enough room to maneuver the wagon down the narrow roads, let alone defend it with any kind of grace.
He nodded. “Would have covered a room last night, too, but it didn’t seem worth explaining our captive,” he said, indicating the driver with a jerk of his head. “And for the same reason, I’d like to get rid of him first before we deliver our shipment.”
A few questions to passersby elicited the address of the magistrate, and their erstwhile driver was turned over to some rather rough-looking authorities. Wen found herself wondering if serramarra Karryn was involved in handling legal matters in Forten City. It seemed unlikely in the extreme. Perhaps that was one of the duties that Jasper Paladar was administering until Karryn attained her majority.
It was true night by the time they made their way to a large house on the western edge of town, far from the stink and bustle of the wharves. It was hard to be sure in the dark, but the house appeared to be built of glittering black stone, roofed with gleaming copper.
“Now you have to admit a pair of gold doors would be a pretty impressive sight at a place like this,” Orson said to Wen, grinning.
“It would—if this was the queen’s palace,” she retorted. “But for a Thirteenth House lord? So grand it’s foolish.”
It took longer than she would have expected to unload the cargo, though there was a certain entertainment value in watching the servants struggle to lift the heavy doors and carry them into the house. Stef, in fact, couldn’t restrain his laughter the second time one of the footmen stumbled and brought the whole line of bearers to their knees.
“Well, I’m glad those are off our hands and someplace they can cause trouble for someone besides me,” Orson observed. “Come on. Let’s look for food and beds.”
They found both in a well-appointed tavern situated comfortably close to both the harbor and the main road. Dinner was convivial, as the five of them ordered big meals and several pitchers of beer, and spent the whole meal swapping progressively less believable stories of brawls and battles they had single-handedly won. Stef did little of the talking but most of the drinking, so naturally he was sick before they’d even gotten up from the table. For some reason, that made Wen and Orson laugh even harder. They practically carried him up the stairs to the one big room they’d rented for all of them to share. Wen stripped off her outer garments and fell onto the narrow bed allotted to her, falling asleep within minutes, even happier than she’d been the night before.
But when she woke with the others and Orson suggested they get an early start on the return journey, she felt that awful clutch of panic in her stomach. This was too friendly; this was too familiar. She couldn’t make these men her comrades, she couldn’t train them to trust her and then fail them at some crucial juncture. She couldn’t stay, and she couldn’t explain.
She said nothing until she and Orson headed down the stairs together to order breakfast while the others finished shaving. “I won’t be riding back with you,” she told him.
He gave her a sharp look, but didn’t say anything until they’d found seats in the taproom, much changed from the night
“I hope our pay covers a real room for the night and enough money to buy a meal,” Wen said as she trotted along next to Orson. No need to keep a rear guard here in the city. There was hardly enough room to maneuver the wagon down the narrow roads, let alone defend it with any kind of grace.
He nodded. “Would have covered a room last night, too, but it didn’t seem worth explaining our captive,” he said, indicating the driver with a jerk of his head. “And for the same reason, I’d like to get rid of him first before we deliver our shipment.”
A few questions to passersby elicited the address of the magistrate, and their erstwhile driver was turned over to some rather rough-looking authorities. Wen found herself wondering if serramarra Karryn was involved in handling legal matters in Forten City. It seemed unlikely in the extreme. Perhaps that was one of the duties that Jasper Paladar was administering until Karryn attained her majority.
It was true night by the time they made their way to a large house on the western edge of town, far from the stink and bustle of the wharves. It was hard to be sure in the dark, but the house appeared to be built of glittering black stone, roofed with gleaming copper.
“Now you have to admit a pair of gold doors would be a pretty impressive sight at a place like this,” Orson said to Wen, grinning.
“It would—if this was the queen’s palace,” she retorted. “But for a Thirteenth House lord? So grand it’s foolish.”
It took longer than she would have expected to unload the cargo, though there was a certain entertainment value in watching the servants struggle to lift the heavy doors and carry them into the house. Stef, in fact, couldn’t restrain his laughter the second time one of the footmen stumbled and brought the whole line of bearers to their knees.
“Well, I’m glad those are off our hands and someplace they can cause trouble for someone besides me,” Orson observed. “Come on. Let’s look for food and beds.”
They found both in a well-appointed tavern situated comfortably close to both the harbor and the main road. Dinner was convivial, as the five of them ordered big meals and several pitchers of beer, and spent the whole meal swapping progressively less believable stories of brawls and battles they had single-handedly won. Stef did little of the talking but most of the drinking, so naturally he was sick before they’d even gotten up from the table. For some reason, that made Wen and Orson laugh even harder. They practically carried him up the stairs to the one big room they’d rented for all of them to share. Wen stripped off her outer garments and fell onto the narrow bed allotted to her, falling asleep within minutes, even happier than she’d been the night before.
But when she woke with the others and Orson suggested they get an early start on the return journey, she felt that awful clutch of panic in her stomach. This was too friendly; this was too familiar. She couldn’t make these men her comrades, she couldn’t train them to trust her and then fail them at some crucial juncture. She couldn’t stay, and she couldn’t explain.
She said nothing until she and Orson headed down the stairs together to order breakfast while the others finished shaving. “I won’t be riding back with you,” she told him.
He gave her a sharp look, but didn’t say anything until they’d found seats in the taproom, much changed from the night
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