gently, then with a shooing motion sent it bounding back into the cover of the trees. Sam debated a long moment, then after some inner wrestling dismounted as well and silently offered Kaylana his horse, which, after some thought on the ride, he had named Damazcus, after the wavy-patterned Shadrezarian steel that was so good for dagger blades.
"I do not need to ride. You are injured and need it more than I," was her calm reply.
Sam waved irritably at Damazcus. The horse took the opportunity to rub its itching forehead on his shoulder, almost knocking him over, then snorted moistly into his hair. He wiped his cheek off in disgust. "You are of course correct, but I'm not walking into that town and have everyone seeing me sitting pretty while a lady walks through the mud. Nothing points out a bad character like lack of chivalry. Half-pint is excused because we'd leave him behind if he wasn't riding." Arcie grinned and tipped his hat at mention of his nickname, one of the few comments about his height he had come to tolerate. "So get on, or I will start to get cross and ill-tempered as my nature is so famous for."
Kaylana looked sternly at him. "I will not be treated like some delicate noblewoman. I am Kaylana, and by Oak, Ash and Thorn, I will not let a scamp like you ..."
"I've been kicking around for thirty-some summers, ma'am," replied Sam tersely. Kaylana drew herself up haughtily and rapped her staff on the ground. Arcie drummed his fingers on his saddlehorn impatiently, and the horse in question sighed.
"And I have seen times and places you will never..."
Her sentence was cut short as Sam sighed, and in one lightning motion scooped her up off the ground, staff and all, and tossed her into the horse's saddle. She glared furiously down at him, too outraged to speak. He looked back at her tiredly. "All right. Do it as a favor to me, then? I don't want to get hounded in this town any more than I will anyway, and I'm tired of standing on this hill arguing." He started walking down the slope. Arcie followed, and after fuming in silence a moment, so did the Druid.
As they approached the gates, it was Arcie who spoke first. "You said we'd need money? How much, and what for?"
"For the Gypsies," said Kaylana, a bit sulkily, Arcie thought. "They travel the wide world over and will know of the state of things in towns and cities. Thus we may discover how far the domination of Light has progressed, and where its weak spots may be, that we can begin to undermine and with luck turn the tide back to balance.
But the information of Gypsies is not free ... I imagine we will need the worth of three horses to pay them, but you will need the horses. So somehow we must get the money another way."
"Horses," mused Arcie, "average about forty gold, say ... three of us, then. We each need to come up with forty gold tellins." He grinned. "No problem!"
Sam thought a moment. Of course the Barigan could; he probably was carrying at least ten times that much anyway. On a sudden thought, he checked his pocket where he'd tucked Arcie's deposit. It was gone, of course.
Sam decided not to press the issue now: they were almost to the gates. But later ... and Sam would collect in full when he could hand Mizzamir's bloody twitching head to Arcie. At the moment, Sam was broke, but he knew a trick or two himself. "I can do it." The two rogues looked at the Druid.
Kaylana looked back at them haughtily. "Good."
"Spiffyweh," the Barigan said, rubbing his hands together gleefully as they rode through the open gates (unguarded, as was so common in these peaceful times).
"We'll split up then, and meet back at yon inn over there." He indicated a swinging tavern sign. "I've got wee bit of spare change already on me, as it just happens ...
I'll find a place to stable the horses."
"We'll go with you, old chum, just to be sure you find one so that you don't have to take them to another town, or sell them, or something," said Sam pleasantly.
"Och, they're
"I do not need to ride. You are injured and need it more than I," was her calm reply.
Sam waved irritably at Damazcus. The horse took the opportunity to rub its itching forehead on his shoulder, almost knocking him over, then snorted moistly into his hair. He wiped his cheek off in disgust. "You are of course correct, but I'm not walking into that town and have everyone seeing me sitting pretty while a lady walks through the mud. Nothing points out a bad character like lack of chivalry. Half-pint is excused because we'd leave him behind if he wasn't riding." Arcie grinned and tipped his hat at mention of his nickname, one of the few comments about his height he had come to tolerate. "So get on, or I will start to get cross and ill-tempered as my nature is so famous for."
Kaylana looked sternly at him. "I will not be treated like some delicate noblewoman. I am Kaylana, and by Oak, Ash and Thorn, I will not let a scamp like you ..."
"I've been kicking around for thirty-some summers, ma'am," replied Sam tersely. Kaylana drew herself up haughtily and rapped her staff on the ground. Arcie drummed his fingers on his saddlehorn impatiently, and the horse in question sighed.
"And I have seen times and places you will never..."
Her sentence was cut short as Sam sighed, and in one lightning motion scooped her up off the ground, staff and all, and tossed her into the horse's saddle. She glared furiously down at him, too outraged to speak. He looked back at her tiredly. "All right. Do it as a favor to me, then? I don't want to get hounded in this town any more than I will anyway, and I'm tired of standing on this hill arguing." He started walking down the slope. Arcie followed, and after fuming in silence a moment, so did the Druid.
As they approached the gates, it was Arcie who spoke first. "You said we'd need money? How much, and what for?"
"For the Gypsies," said Kaylana, a bit sulkily, Arcie thought. "They travel the wide world over and will know of the state of things in towns and cities. Thus we may discover how far the domination of Light has progressed, and where its weak spots may be, that we can begin to undermine and with luck turn the tide back to balance.
But the information of Gypsies is not free ... I imagine we will need the worth of three horses to pay them, but you will need the horses. So somehow we must get the money another way."
"Horses," mused Arcie, "average about forty gold, say ... three of us, then. We each need to come up with forty gold tellins." He grinned. "No problem!"
Sam thought a moment. Of course the Barigan could; he probably was carrying at least ten times that much anyway. On a sudden thought, he checked his pocket where he'd tucked Arcie's deposit. It was gone, of course.
Sam decided not to press the issue now: they were almost to the gates. But later ... and Sam would collect in full when he could hand Mizzamir's bloody twitching head to Arcie. At the moment, Sam was broke, but he knew a trick or two himself. "I can do it." The two rogues looked at the Druid.
Kaylana looked back at them haughtily. "Good."
"Spiffyweh," the Barigan said, rubbing his hands together gleefully as they rode through the open gates (unguarded, as was so common in these peaceful times).
"We'll split up then, and meet back at yon inn over there." He indicated a swinging tavern sign. "I've got wee bit of spare change already on me, as it just happens ...
I'll find a place to stable the horses."
"We'll go with you, old chum, just to be sure you find one so that you don't have to take them to another town, or sell them, or something," said Sam pleasantly.
"Och, they're
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