"Besides," he said with a smile, "do I look like a shapechanger?"
"You look like a village brat who hasn't the sense to even use his eating dagger as a weapon. How have you managed thus far?"
"I try to avoid battles."
"That's a very unmanly attitude, Miach."
He only shrugged, seemingly unoffended. "So it is."
"I had more sword skill than you when I was ten."
"Did you?" he asked, looking interested. "That is a tale I would like to hear. But perhaps later. Here are the gates."
He pulled his hood over his head, which left his face in shadows even under the flat gray of the winter morning. "Leave me to do the talking, if you would."
She nodded and had to agree. Her first instinct would have been to draw her sword and demand to see Hearn, but perhaps diplomacy would be the better course of action.
They were stopped at the gates. Miach was polite, but not overly. Perhaps he did not look like a lord who had the money to purchase an Angesand steed, but he certainly carried himself like one. It took only a handful of moments before a message was dispatched to Hearn, a message returned, and they were being escorted into the keep and on to the stables. There, they were bid await the lord's pleasure.
Morgan had no trouble recognizing Hearn when he arrived. He was dressed no differently than his men, nor was he the largest or strongest of them, yet he carried himself in a way that left her with no doubt that he was lord and master there.
He stopped in front of them and looked them over. It was a very long look, but Miach did not shift and neither did she. He finally returned his gaze to Miach.
"My man said there were a pair of travelers at my door?"
"I am… Buck," Miach interrupted. "Buck, um, Bucksson." Morgan snorted before she could stop herself. Finally, someone without delusions of grandeur.
"Buck Bucksson," Hearn drawled. "Is that so? Well,Buck, what are you here for?"
"A horse, my lord. Actually seven horses, if they are to be had."
"Seven," Hearn said, raising an eyebrow. "But there are only two of you."
"Our company waits without," Miach said easily.
"Why did they send you?"
"We have the gold."
Hearn grunted. "I don't sell my horses to just anyone." He looked at Morgan. "What skill have you with beasts?"
"I prefer my feet," Morgan answered without hesitation, "but, er, Buck assures me that if there is a horse worth riding, it comes from your stables."
"Does he indeed? Then Buck has a keen eye and a good ear to have harkened to those tales. But the question is, do I want to let you up on one of those wonderful beasts?"
Morgan had never owned a horse. Indeed, if the truth were to be told, she'd never ridden one. But over her long and illustrious career as a mercenary, she had seen beasts well cared for and ones mistreated. She knew what sort of mistress she would be and she told Hearn as much.
He studied her, then looked at Miach. "What are you willing to offer for these seven steeds?"
"I have twenty gold sovereigns for each horse."
Hearn blinked, then laughed heartily. "You jest. One beast is worth all of that several times over. Still, let us not be overly hasty here." He folded his arms over his chest. "What else have you to offer? Have you any magic, either of you?" He paused. "Buck?"
Miach folded his arms over his chest as well. "A little."
"A little," Hearn repeated. "Well, perhaps it will be enough. I have a well needing a bit of sweetening."
"It would then be my pleasure, my lord, to attempt the deed," Miach said, inclining his head.
