Warprize by Elizabeth Vaughan Page B

prisoners?” Estoval sniffed, but his merchant’s instincts won out. “You might try the tinker’s cart three stores down, if he is there. I think he has snuck out of the city and is trading with the warlord’s men. Mention my name, Daughter of Xy.”
    I nodded my regal thanks, and headed off in the direction he’d indicated. I spotted the tinker’s cart easily, decorated with pots and pans, and ribbons aflutter in the breeze. I paused for a bit, since he was dealing with a customer, a tall, broad-shouldered man in armor. I occupied myself by looking over his wares. There was all matter of trinkets and metalware that gleamed in the sunlight. After a bit, the tinker turned his attentions to me.
    “How may I help you?” His eyes gleamed in anticipation.
    I smiled. “I am in no hurry.”
    The tinker winked. “This fellow can’t make up his mind. While he ponders, you and I will treat. What can I interest you in?”
    “Estoval told me that you might be able to help me. I am looking for some kavage.”
    He wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. What would you be wanting with that foul stuff?”
    “I am tending some of the prisoners. One mentioned that it is a drink that they enjoy.” I wavered, thinking. “Is it some form of spirits?” I had visions of trying to explain a tent full of drunken prisoners. Xymund would kill me.
    “No.” A deep voice with a faint accent answered me. I turned to see the other customer looking at me. Short black hair and skin tanned dark by the sun caught my eye, but what startled me were his bright blue eyes. Tall, with broad shoulders, he seemed to tower over me and the tinker, almost blocking the sun. My guess was he was one of the mercenaries that had been hired by some of the wealthier lords to guard their lives.
    The tinker laughed and agreed. “The land take me, no. It is truly foul tasting stuff that they make by dripping water through seeds.” He started to rummage through his cart, head and shoulders stuffed into one of its compartments. His muffled voice floated back at me. “In truth, I traded for some a while back, but once I tasted it,” He emerged with a good sized sack and some kind of strange metal implement. “I knew I could never sell this here. The citizens would cry themselves poisoned and the City Guard would be on my neck.” His eyes gleamed. “I will sell it to you, fine lady, but give me no blame when it eats at your insides.”
    “Well then,” I replied with a smile “must not be worth much.”
    The tinker tried for an offended look, but burst out in a laugh. “Ah, Lady, you have the advantage.”
    We dickered a bit, just to be polite, but were quick to come to terms. I paid him, well satisfied with my purchase. The tinker was kind enough to give me a sack to carry the beans and the pot in. As I toddled off with my burdens, I heard him call behind me. “Come again, lady, and buy some more of my wares.”
    If my hands had not been full, I’d have waved farewell.
    “They drink it with milk.” The man with the bright blue eyes had moved up next to me, walking, matching my pace. He’d apparently lost interest in a purchase. “Would you like some help?”
    The market was filling up. I would find it difficult to avoid the market-goers with my bulky bundles. I felt my face flush a little when he took the sack and satchel. His gaze was steady and very disconcerting. It was rare for anyone to pay attention to me like that. I told myself not to be foolish.
    “I am Lara.”
    The man smiled. “I am Kier.” We started back up the street. “The liquid is drunk with milk and honey.”
    The phrasing was awkward, and that faint accent was there again. I couldn’t place it. I nodded, thinking. I had money remaining, and the cost of those items would be small. I smiled at Kier. “
    Then I must get some. It will be a treat for my patients.” I looked at him. “You learned this in the fighting?
    ”
    He gave me an intent look. “One must always know the enemy.”