to stick together, don't we?" Her voice lowered and automatically both Kalena and the shopkeeper leaned closer. "It is said that he is one of those rare men who can make the steel of Countervail glow red with the force of his anger."
For an instant hushed silence filled the shop. Even the woman behind the counter was taken aback. She stared at Arrisa while Kalena frowned, trying to remember the tales. "The stories of such men are just that for the most part," she finally protested. "Mere yarns woven by the story spinners. It is said there are such men in every generation, but they are very few and far between. The odds of encountering one are unbelievably high."
Arrisa shrugged. "The stories surrounding Ridge are strong enough to have given him a name. There must be some element of truth to them."
"It takes little to hang a name on a man," the shopkeeper pointed out.
"True, but why this name on this particular man?" Arrisa countered.
"Perhaps because the trade master is possessed of a quick temper," Kalena said placatingly, not wishing to argue over the matter. "Legend has it that the ability to heat the steel of Countervail goes hand-in-hand with a savage temper."
"Most men have bad tempers," the shopkeeper pointed out philosophically. "It has always seemed to me that it takes very little to anger a man. Since my husband died I have not been in any hurry to remarry because of that fact. The calm at home has been a relief. And the profits from this shop are all mine to spend as I see fit."
"The kind of fury it takes to make the steel of Countervail glow with the heat of fire is only distantly related to your average dose of masculine temper," Arrisa announced. "Personally, if I were you I would be cautious, Kalena. You have contracted a dangerous marriage."
"It is merely a business arrangement," Kalena insisted mildly. She turned to the shopkeeper. "Please have the cloak made up in the red sarsilk. I'll pick up the tunics later this afternoon."
"And the riding outfit?" the shopkeeper asked quickly, making notes with an ink-filled quill.
Kalena thought about it for a moment, wondering if she would ever wear the garment. "Have it made up in the dark green."
"Excellent." The shopkeeper smiled in satisfaction. "I have your measurements. I will set the seamstress to work immediately. Now, the bill for the cloak and the riding clothes go to this Ridge at the House of the Gliding Fallon, but the other garments you will be paying for yourself?"
Kalena caught the not-so-subtle hint. She removed the small wallet from the belt she wore at her waist and began counting out grans. The heavy coins clinked on the countertop under the shopkeeper's watchful eye. When a suitable stack of them had been set out the woman smiled again and scooped them into a drawer.
Arrisa watched the transaction with interest before falling into step beside Kalena, who made to leave the shop. "What's next? Boots, perhaps?"
"Yes," Kalena admitted, "and a couple of shirts for Ridge."
"Aha. Has you buying his shirts already, does he? The man means to take full advantage of the convenience of a wife. The next thing you know he'll have you embroidering his initials on his garments."
Arrisa laughed, then turned to Kalena with narrowed eyes. "That business with a cloak ..."
"For some reason Trade Baron Quintel wishes to have a formal ceremony to seal the contract," Kalena explained as they stepped out onto the stone path.
"And Ridge will humor him, of course. Ridge will do just about anything for the trade baron. Remember that, Kalena," Arrisa said with unexpected seriousness. "Ridge's first loyalty will always be to Quintel. It's said that Quintel rescued him from a life on the streets of Countervail and since the day they met, Ridge has repaid him with absolute loyalty." Then, almost instantly, her mood lightened again. "But if you are to sacrifice yourself on the altar of a contract wedding, you should have a proper trade wife send-off," she
For an instant hushed silence filled the shop. Even the woman behind the counter was taken aback. She stared at Arrisa while Kalena frowned, trying to remember the tales. "The stories of such men are just that for the most part," she finally protested. "Mere yarns woven by the story spinners. It is said there are such men in every generation, but they are very few and far between. The odds of encountering one are unbelievably high."
Arrisa shrugged. "The stories surrounding Ridge are strong enough to have given him a name. There must be some element of truth to them."
"It takes little to hang a name on a man," the shopkeeper pointed out.
"True, but why this name on this particular man?" Arrisa countered.
"Perhaps because the trade master is possessed of a quick temper," Kalena said placatingly, not wishing to argue over the matter. "Legend has it that the ability to heat the steel of Countervail goes hand-in-hand with a savage temper."
"Most men have bad tempers," the shopkeeper pointed out philosophically. "It has always seemed to me that it takes very little to anger a man. Since my husband died I have not been in any hurry to remarry because of that fact. The calm at home has been a relief. And the profits from this shop are all mine to spend as I see fit."
"The kind of fury it takes to make the steel of Countervail glow with the heat of fire is only distantly related to your average dose of masculine temper," Arrisa announced. "Personally, if I were you I would be cautious, Kalena. You have contracted a dangerous marriage."
"It is merely a business arrangement," Kalena insisted mildly. She turned to the shopkeeper. "Please have the cloak made up in the red sarsilk. I'll pick up the tunics later this afternoon."
"And the riding outfit?" the shopkeeper asked quickly, making notes with an ink-filled quill.
Kalena thought about it for a moment, wondering if she would ever wear the garment. "Have it made up in the dark green."
"Excellent." The shopkeeper smiled in satisfaction. "I have your measurements. I will set the seamstress to work immediately. Now, the bill for the cloak and the riding clothes go to this Ridge at the House of the Gliding Fallon, but the other garments you will be paying for yourself?"
Kalena caught the not-so-subtle hint. She removed the small wallet from the belt she wore at her waist and began counting out grans. The heavy coins clinked on the countertop under the shopkeeper's watchful eye. When a suitable stack of them had been set out the woman smiled again and scooped them into a drawer.
Arrisa watched the transaction with interest before falling into step beside Kalena, who made to leave the shop. "What's next? Boots, perhaps?"
"Yes," Kalena admitted, "and a couple of shirts for Ridge."
"Aha. Has you buying his shirts already, does he? The man means to take full advantage of the convenience of a wife. The next thing you know he'll have you embroidering his initials on his garments."
Arrisa laughed, then turned to Kalena with narrowed eyes. "That business with a cloak ..."
"For some reason Trade Baron Quintel wishes to have a formal ceremony to seal the contract," Kalena explained as they stepped out onto the stone path.
"And Ridge will humor him, of course. Ridge will do just about anything for the trade baron. Remember that, Kalena," Arrisa said with unexpected seriousness. "Ridge's first loyalty will always be to Quintel. It's said that Quintel rescued him from a life on the streets of Countervail and since the day they met, Ridge has repaid him with absolute loyalty." Then, almost instantly, her mood lightened again. "But if you are to sacrifice yourself on the altar of a contract wedding, you should have a proper trade wife send-off," she
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