week, but not two.”
Jojanna said, “Sagrin, this is Kaspar. He’s been working at the farm for his keep, filling in for Bandamin.”
With an evil grin, the man said, “I expect he has.”
Kaspar let the insult slide. The innkeeper looked like a brawler and while Kaspar had no fear of any man, he also didn’t go out of his way to court trouble. He’d seen too many of his friends die needlessly in duels as a youngster to believe that there was any profit in borrowing trouble. Kaspar said, “If you can’t use the beef, we’ll try the next village…” He looked at Jojanna.
“That would be Mastaba.”
“Wait a minute,” said Sagrin. He rubbed his hand over his bearded chin. “I don’t have much by way of coin or trade goods. What do you have in mind?”
“Horses,” answered Kaspar. “Two.”
“Horses!” echoed Sagrin with a barking laugh. “Might as well be their weight in gold. Some Bentu slavers came through here a couple of months back and bought two of mine, then came back the next night and stole the other three.”
“Who else has horses to sell around here?” asked Kaspar.
Sagrin rubbed his chin as if thinking, then said, “Well, I’m certain you won’t find any up in Mastaba. Maybe downriver?”
Jojanna said, “You know that traveling downriver is dangerous even for armed men, Sagrin! You’re trying to scare us into making a better bargain for you!” She turned to Kaspar. “He’s probably lying about there being no horses in Mastaba.”
As she turned to leave, Sagrin’s hand shot out and he grabbed her arm. “Wait a minute, Jojanna! No one calls me a liar, not even you!”
Kaspar didn’t hesitate. He reached out, grabbed Sagrin’s hand, and pressed his thumb hard into a nerve below the other man’s thumb. A moment later he pushed the heavy man, and as Sagrin resisted the push, Kaspar grabbed his dirty tunic and pulled. Sagrin stumbled for a moment and then his old fighter’s reflexes came into play. Rather than landing hard, he rolled to the side and came up, ready to brawl.
Instead of attacking, Kaspar stepped away and said calmly, “I’ll have my sword in your throat before you can take a step.”
Sagrin saw a man standing confidently, his sword still at his side. He hesitated for a moment, then whatever fight he had left in him vanished. With a grin he said, “Sorry for my temper. It’s just that those were hard words.”
Jojanna rubbed at her arm where he had grabbed it. “Hard, maybe, Sagrin, but you’ve tried to get the better of Bandamin and me before.”
“That’s just trading,” said the stout innkeeper stepping forward, his hands held with palms outward. “But this time it’s the truth. Old Balyoo had the one extra mare, but the old girl’s spavined, and not even fit to foal, so he might have put her down already. Other than that, horses are harder to find around here than free ale.”
Kaspar said, “What about a mule?”
“You mean to ride a mule?” asked Sagrin.
“No, I want it to pull a wagon and a plow,” said Kaspar, looking at Jojanna.
“Kelpita has a mule he’d probably trade for the price of a steer,” said Sagrin. He motioned to the bar. “Why don’t you fix yourselves up with something to drink while I go ask him?”
Jojanna nodded as Jorgen entered the inn, and Sagrin left, tousling the boy’s hair as he passed. Jojanna went behind the bar and poured ales for herself and Kaspar, filling another cup with water for Jorgen.
Kaspar watched as they sat at a table, then joined them. “Can you trust him?”
“Most of the time,” she answered. “He’s tried to take advantage of us before, but as he said, it’s just bargaining.”
“Who’s Kelpita?”
“The merchant who owns that large building across the road. He trades down the river. He has wagons and mules.”
“Well, I don’t know much about mules, but in the army—” he paused “—the army I was with for a while, they used them instead of horses for the
Jojanna said, “Sagrin, this is Kaspar. He’s been working at the farm for his keep, filling in for Bandamin.”
With an evil grin, the man said, “I expect he has.”
Kaspar let the insult slide. The innkeeper looked like a brawler and while Kaspar had no fear of any man, he also didn’t go out of his way to court trouble. He’d seen too many of his friends die needlessly in duels as a youngster to believe that there was any profit in borrowing trouble. Kaspar said, “If you can’t use the beef, we’ll try the next village…” He looked at Jojanna.
“That would be Mastaba.”
“Wait a minute,” said Sagrin. He rubbed his hand over his bearded chin. “I don’t have much by way of coin or trade goods. What do you have in mind?”
“Horses,” answered Kaspar. “Two.”
“Horses!” echoed Sagrin with a barking laugh. “Might as well be their weight in gold. Some Bentu slavers came through here a couple of months back and bought two of mine, then came back the next night and stole the other three.”
“Who else has horses to sell around here?” asked Kaspar.
Sagrin rubbed his chin as if thinking, then said, “Well, I’m certain you won’t find any up in Mastaba. Maybe downriver?”
Jojanna said, “You know that traveling downriver is dangerous even for armed men, Sagrin! You’re trying to scare us into making a better bargain for you!” She turned to Kaspar. “He’s probably lying about there being no horses in Mastaba.”
As she turned to leave, Sagrin’s hand shot out and he grabbed her arm. “Wait a minute, Jojanna! No one calls me a liar, not even you!”
Kaspar didn’t hesitate. He reached out, grabbed Sagrin’s hand, and pressed his thumb hard into a nerve below the other man’s thumb. A moment later he pushed the heavy man, and as Sagrin resisted the push, Kaspar grabbed his dirty tunic and pulled. Sagrin stumbled for a moment and then his old fighter’s reflexes came into play. Rather than landing hard, he rolled to the side and came up, ready to brawl.
Instead of attacking, Kaspar stepped away and said calmly, “I’ll have my sword in your throat before you can take a step.”
Sagrin saw a man standing confidently, his sword still at his side. He hesitated for a moment, then whatever fight he had left in him vanished. With a grin he said, “Sorry for my temper. It’s just that those were hard words.”
Jojanna rubbed at her arm where he had grabbed it. “Hard, maybe, Sagrin, but you’ve tried to get the better of Bandamin and me before.”
“That’s just trading,” said the stout innkeeper stepping forward, his hands held with palms outward. “But this time it’s the truth. Old Balyoo had the one extra mare, but the old girl’s spavined, and not even fit to foal, so he might have put her down already. Other than that, horses are harder to find around here than free ale.”
Kaspar said, “What about a mule?”
“You mean to ride a mule?” asked Sagrin.
“No, I want it to pull a wagon and a plow,” said Kaspar, looking at Jojanna.
“Kelpita has a mule he’d probably trade for the price of a steer,” said Sagrin. He motioned to the bar. “Why don’t you fix yourselves up with something to drink while I go ask him?”
Jojanna nodded as Jorgen entered the inn, and Sagrin left, tousling the boy’s hair as he passed. Jojanna went behind the bar and poured ales for herself and Kaspar, filling another cup with water for Jorgen.
Kaspar watched as they sat at a table, then joined them. “Can you trust him?”
“Most of the time,” she answered. “He’s tried to take advantage of us before, but as he said, it’s just bargaining.”
“Who’s Kelpita?”
“The merchant who owns that large building across the road. He trades down the river. He has wagons and mules.”
“Well, I don’t know much about mules, but in the army—” he paused “—the army I was with for a while, they used them instead of horses for the
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