mutton,” John said.
Fenn nodded, but his eyes were fixed on John’s shirt. John glanced down and realized he’d missed a button. An expanse of white bandage and a faint streak of blood showed through. John buttoned his shirt closed.
“I don’t think we’ll be staying for dinner,” Saimura announced.
John and Fenn both started at his sudden return to their conversation. Saimura appeared amused. He stood and picked up his leather bag. “Ji says we’re needed back in Gisa.”
“What’s happened?” John asked.
“I’m not entirely sure, but there’s been trouble at the prison there.”
“A prison again?” John asked.
“Yes,” Saimura said. “A group of old men and women blocked the gates. They’ve all been arrested and now their sons and daughters are throwing stones at the city guards. No one has been killed yet, but Bousim rashan’im have been sent for.”
“Do you think this is related to the girls being taken by the Payshmura?” John asked.
“Maybe. We’ll know more when we get back to the Hearthstone.” Saimura started down the ladder. “Lafi’shir will want to ride as soon as he hears this.” He sighed and glanced apologetically to Fenn. “Too bad, really. I was looking forward to tasting some of that fish.”
Chapter Ninety-Two
After four days of hard riding through the Stone Hills, they reached Gisa. It was late in the evening and John’s back ached. He stank of sweat, wool, and tahldi musk. It was a relief to see the painted sign of the Hearthstone Hostel.
While John, Fenn, and Saimura stabled the tahldi, Lafi’shir and Pirr’tu went to secure rooms in the hostel. Tai’yu departed to visit his sister in the Weavers Row. He would bring them as much news as he could tomorrow morning.
“His sister spoils him. She’ll stuff him with dove meat and blue leaf cakes,” Saimura said. “In the meantime we’re going to be chewing dried weasel.”
“Dove sounds good.” Fenn tossed a hide brush to John and another to Saimura.
“Right now even weasel sounds good to me,” John said.
He lifted his saddle and blankets off his tahldi. He carefully tucked his rifle under the blankets and then brushed the tahldi down. The big animal pressed against the stiff bristles of the brush as John groomed its withers and ribs.
Fenn brought fresh water and feed to the animals’ troughs. He scratched Saimura’s tahldi between its horns and the tahldi leaned into his hands, making soft pleased noises.
“Hot wine and a hot bath sound so good right now,” Fenn said.
“Lafi’shir might be willing to pay up for one of the big steam tubs. Particularly if he got a good whiff of you, Jath’ibaye.” Saimura grinned at John.
“You’re no bouquet of moonflowers yourself,” John replied.
“Pirr’tu’s the worst,” Fenn said. “I’d pay up just to get a bath for him.”
“I may hold you to that,” Pirr’tu called from the stable doors. “I hear they have a gaun-style bath at the Flower Palace. The dancing girls there would probably leave me smelling sweet enough for you, Fenn. It’s eight silver.” Pirr’tu grinned and held out his calloused hand for the money.
“You’re going to be waiting a few years for that bath if you expect Fenn to pay for it. He’s still paying for the rope he’s using to hold up his pants,” Saimura replied.
Fenn looked like he might argue but then obviously thought better of it.
“So, do we have a room?” Saimura asked Pirr’tu.
“Two. Lafi’shir’s paid for a steam tub and laundry as well.” Pirr’tu glanced back to Fenn. “He wanted to know if you brought any of that hide stain you use to disguise the tahldi.”
“Some.” Fenn looked puzzled. “Has he bought more tahldi?”
“No.” Pirr’tu lowered his voice a little. “But our witches both have hair that’s a little too light to pass without notice in Gisa. Lafi’shir thinks we might be staying here a while.”
Fenn dug the hide
Fenn nodded, but his eyes were fixed on John’s shirt. John glanced down and realized he’d missed a button. An expanse of white bandage and a faint streak of blood showed through. John buttoned his shirt closed.
“I don’t think we’ll be staying for dinner,” Saimura announced.
John and Fenn both started at his sudden return to their conversation. Saimura appeared amused. He stood and picked up his leather bag. “Ji says we’re needed back in Gisa.”
“What’s happened?” John asked.
“I’m not entirely sure, but there’s been trouble at the prison there.”
“A prison again?” John asked.
“Yes,” Saimura said. “A group of old men and women blocked the gates. They’ve all been arrested and now their sons and daughters are throwing stones at the city guards. No one has been killed yet, but Bousim rashan’im have been sent for.”
“Do you think this is related to the girls being taken by the Payshmura?” John asked.
“Maybe. We’ll know more when we get back to the Hearthstone.” Saimura started down the ladder. “Lafi’shir will want to ride as soon as he hears this.” He sighed and glanced apologetically to Fenn. “Too bad, really. I was looking forward to tasting some of that fish.”
Chapter Ninety-Two
After four days of hard riding through the Stone Hills, they reached Gisa. It was late in the evening and John’s back ached. He stank of sweat, wool, and tahldi musk. It was a relief to see the painted sign of the Hearthstone Hostel.
While John, Fenn, and Saimura stabled the tahldi, Lafi’shir and Pirr’tu went to secure rooms in the hostel. Tai’yu departed to visit his sister in the Weavers Row. He would bring them as much news as he could tomorrow morning.
“His sister spoils him. She’ll stuff him with dove meat and blue leaf cakes,” Saimura said. “In the meantime we’re going to be chewing dried weasel.”
“Dove sounds good.” Fenn tossed a hide brush to John and another to Saimura.
“Right now even weasel sounds good to me,” John said.
He lifted his saddle and blankets off his tahldi. He carefully tucked his rifle under the blankets and then brushed the tahldi down. The big animal pressed against the stiff bristles of the brush as John groomed its withers and ribs.
Fenn brought fresh water and feed to the animals’ troughs. He scratched Saimura’s tahldi between its horns and the tahldi leaned into his hands, making soft pleased noises.
“Hot wine and a hot bath sound so good right now,” Fenn said.
“Lafi’shir might be willing to pay up for one of the big steam tubs. Particularly if he got a good whiff of you, Jath’ibaye.” Saimura grinned at John.
“You’re no bouquet of moonflowers yourself,” John replied.
“Pirr’tu’s the worst,” Fenn said. “I’d pay up just to get a bath for him.”
“I may hold you to that,” Pirr’tu called from the stable doors. “I hear they have a gaun-style bath at the Flower Palace. The dancing girls there would probably leave me smelling sweet enough for you, Fenn. It’s eight silver.” Pirr’tu grinned and held out his calloused hand for the money.
“You’re going to be waiting a few years for that bath if you expect Fenn to pay for it. He’s still paying for the rope he’s using to hold up his pants,” Saimura replied.
Fenn looked like he might argue but then obviously thought better of it.
“So, do we have a room?” Saimura asked Pirr’tu.
“Two. Lafi’shir’s paid for a steam tub and laundry as well.” Pirr’tu glanced back to Fenn. “He wanted to know if you brought any of that hide stain you use to disguise the tahldi.”
“Some.” Fenn looked puzzled. “Has he bought more tahldi?”
“No.” Pirr’tu lowered his voice a little. “But our witches both have hair that’s a little too light to pass without notice in Gisa. Lafi’shir thinks we might be staying here a while.”
Fenn dug the hide
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