Chapter One: Waking the Bear
Kran tapped his slate, louder this time, and Jendara gave in, looking up from her ledger. The boy’s blue eyes gleamed as his chalk squeaked, underlining the word “please” a second time—his equivalent of begging. Jendara’s lips moved as she read the note.
“You want to play marbles on the beach? With some village boys?”
He nodded his head, making the yellow tassels of his cap dance. The tip of his nose was pink from the cold sea air.
She grunted. “Just don’t take too long. Captain Vorrin wants to catch the outgoing tide, and that means all packed up by sunset.”
He swiped his slate with his sleeve, scribbled a thanks, and then darted down the gangplank. Jendara’s eyes followed him along the pier until he cut over to the small strip of beach. She trusted Kran more than most mothers trusted their eight-year-olds, but she liked knowing where he was. He didn’t get social invitations very often. There weren’t many on the islands who could read, or who’d go near a god-touched boy with no speech.
She realized she was holding her quill too tightly, and put it down. Anyway, someone was approaching the ship-turned-market square: a big man with the dung-crusted boots of an island farmer. He reminded Jendara of her father, and she tried not to smile at him. Bad enough being a woman in this business; it wouldn’t do to look soft.
“You got something real heavy in that pack of yours.” She cleared the ledger and writing case off the table to make room for his wares. She’d been buying lots of ivory and whalebone this trip—always in high demand on the mainland—but whatever he carried in his pack looked soft. Furs, maybe.
“Ayuh. It’s a load alright.” The man dropped his bag with a thud that made the table creak. He undid the knotted ties and the sack slid open, revealing a pile of deep brown furs.
“What did you catch?” The fur felt sleek and oily beneath her fingers, the hairs coarse.
He didn’t answer at first, working with the bag. Now Jendara could see that this great mass wasn’t a stack of pelts, but one magnificent hide, and her heart quickened. This could be worth a lot of gold to the right buyer.
He began unfolding the hide. “It’s big.”
“Grizzly?”
“Ayuh.” He shifted on his feet, frowning as he recollected. “It was in with the sheep, killing anything that moved. Had to protect my stock.”
A paw hit the ship’s deck, and she could see claws longer than her own hand. She couldn’t imagine facing something so huge gone on a killing spree. “How’d you kill it?”
“Arrow through the eye. Then I jumped on its back and cut its throat.” He’d uncovered the head, well cured and massive, but marred by a white patch of fur like a lightning bolt down the nose. “Woulda kept it, but the wife said it was probably unlucky, way it was acting. Figured you’d give me a fair price for it.”
Jendara mentally calculated a few figures. It was a good pelt, and she knew a dealer in Magnimar looking for quality winter furs. She named her price, and the farmer grinned hugely. He spat on his palm and stuck it out, just as her father had done every deal he ever struck. She spat on her own and shook as fiercely as he did.
“We should drink. This deal is good for both of us.”
“Yul is a typical islander—gruff and hard, but kind all the same.”
She looked out at the docks. No one else approached, and the sun was already low in the sky. She doubted anyone further would be looking to trade with her. “All right.”
Someone laid a hand on her shoulder. “You two mind a little company?”
Jendara shrugged. She hadn’t heard Vorrin behind her, but wasn’t surprised by his sudden appearance. Her husband, Ikran, had asked Vorrin to look after her and Kran as he’d lain bleeding out on the deck of a captured caravel. She couldn’t hold it against either of them, much as she wanted to.
“You have a name, Bear Hunter?” Vorrin put out
Kran tapped his slate, louder this time, and Jendara gave in, looking up from her ledger. The boy’s blue eyes gleamed as his chalk squeaked, underlining the word “please” a second time—his equivalent of begging. Jendara’s lips moved as she read the note.
“You want to play marbles on the beach? With some village boys?”
He nodded his head, making the yellow tassels of his cap dance. The tip of his nose was pink from the cold sea air.
She grunted. “Just don’t take too long. Captain Vorrin wants to catch the outgoing tide, and that means all packed up by sunset.”
He swiped his slate with his sleeve, scribbled a thanks, and then darted down the gangplank. Jendara’s eyes followed him along the pier until he cut over to the small strip of beach. She trusted Kran more than most mothers trusted their eight-year-olds, but she liked knowing where he was. He didn’t get social invitations very often. There weren’t many on the islands who could read, or who’d go near a god-touched boy with no speech.
She realized she was holding her quill too tightly, and put it down. Anyway, someone was approaching the ship-turned-market square: a big man with the dung-crusted boots of an island farmer. He reminded Jendara of her father, and she tried not to smile at him. Bad enough being a woman in this business; it wouldn’t do to look soft.
“You got something real heavy in that pack of yours.” She cleared the ledger and writing case off the table to make room for his wares. She’d been buying lots of ivory and whalebone this trip—always in high demand on the mainland—but whatever he carried in his pack looked soft. Furs, maybe.
“Ayuh. It’s a load alright.” The man dropped his bag with a thud that made the table creak. He undid the knotted ties and the sack slid open, revealing a pile of deep brown furs.
“What did you catch?” The fur felt sleek and oily beneath her fingers, the hairs coarse.
He didn’t answer at first, working with the bag. Now Jendara could see that this great mass wasn’t a stack of pelts, but one magnificent hide, and her heart quickened. This could be worth a lot of gold to the right buyer.
He began unfolding the hide. “It’s big.”
“Grizzly?”
“Ayuh.” He shifted on his feet, frowning as he recollected. “It was in with the sheep, killing anything that moved. Had to protect my stock.”
A paw hit the ship’s deck, and she could see claws longer than her own hand. She couldn’t imagine facing something so huge gone on a killing spree. “How’d you kill it?”
“Arrow through the eye. Then I jumped on its back and cut its throat.” He’d uncovered the head, well cured and massive, but marred by a white patch of fur like a lightning bolt down the nose. “Woulda kept it, but the wife said it was probably unlucky, way it was acting. Figured you’d give me a fair price for it.”
Jendara mentally calculated a few figures. It was a good pelt, and she knew a dealer in Magnimar looking for quality winter furs. She named her price, and the farmer grinned hugely. He spat on his palm and stuck it out, just as her father had done every deal he ever struck. She spat on her own and shook as fiercely as he did.
“We should drink. This deal is good for both of us.”
“Yul is a typical islander—gruff and hard, but kind all the same.”
She looked out at the docks. No one else approached, and the sun was already low in the sky. She doubted anyone further would be looking to trade with her. “All right.”
Someone laid a hand on her shoulder. “You two mind a little company?”
Jendara shrugged. She hadn’t heard Vorrin behind her, but wasn’t surprised by his sudden appearance. Her husband, Ikran, had asked Vorrin to look after her and Kran as he’d lain bleeding out on the deck of a captured caravel. She couldn’t hold it against either of them, much as she wanted to.
“You have a name, Bear Hunter?” Vorrin put out
Similar Books
