“Stew,” the woman says. “Couldna tell ya what kind it is, though. Whatever the boys could catch today.”
I toss the quill on the table. “We’ll take three and some bread if you have it.”
“I does,” she says through missing teeth. “I’d say you won’t be disappointed, but we can make no such guarantees here. All we Rivertoads swear by is that you won’t leave hungry.” She turns to go, but I reach out and stop her.
“We’d also like to talk to someone about hiring…protection.” My eyes meet hers, and although I have no doubt my disguise is in place, she seems to read my intent pretty clearly.
She leans in, her voice dropping. “Stay for the dancing. I don’t handle that sort of thing, but I’ll point out who does if they show up.”
“Dancing?” Eloise grins, waggling her eyebrows at me.
“Yes, dear,” Maggie says. “I’m sure a sweet young thing like you will have plenty of opportunity.”
Maggie leaves me to scowl over that comment.
“Did you hear that?” Warbill says. “My sister might find herself a suitor tonight.”
It’s all I can do to stifle a growl.
But Eloise is already standing from the table. “I’m going to go guide the rabble beasts to that pen the welcoming party mentioned.”
“I can do that,” I offer immediately.
But she shakes her head. “Sometimes would-be suitors talk around asweet young thing, especially when that young thing can do magic,” she whispers. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
11
Jaqual
Eloise
Finding the pen so that the rabble beasts can run and graze proves harder than it should be. I’ve figured out the Rivertoad encampment is shaped like a wheel, and the nameless man who welcomed us into the tent said the rabble beast pen was between the southeast spokes. Only, there are multiple southeast spokes, and a girl leading two rabble beasts can’t fit between the wagons to search for the pen. I try following one spoke to the end, thinking I can walk around the outside of the wheel, but after walking for a concerning amount of time, I suspect I’m in trouble. The caravan is enormous. No question the Rivertoads can harbor thousands of mercenaries for hire. There are thousands of wagons.
“There’s a break every ten wagons. You’re not far from the next one.” Looking around Romulus, I spot the man who’s offered the welcome advice and raise my eyebrows when he instantly reminds me of an actor from a piratemovie. He sports long, wavy black hair and eyes an arresting shade of violet. Tall and lean, with the type of tight, ropy muscles you get from constant movement, he has a manner of dress that fits right in amongst the vibrant wagons. His pants are a thick, dark material, but his long-sleeved white shirt looks thin as linen. The jacket he wears is colorful leather but pieced together like a quilt from scraps of more than one animal. Mismatched beads dangle from his ears, his neck, his wrists, one necklace displaying a painting of an oversized eye that rests over his sternum. Nothing of value. Almost as if he went shopping in the lost and found of a retirement home.
Somehow, on this man, it all works.
“Thank you,” I say. “It’s my first time enjoying your hospitality. I’m afraid I haven’t figured out the lay of the land yet.”
He saunters over to me. “Hospitality? You must be so new as not to have tasted the food or drank the ale.”
I chuckle. “Honestly, I don’t require much and am grateful for whatever we can get.”
“We?”
“My brother, cousin, and I. We recently fled Covellton. New Stygarde,” I say by way of explanation.
“I see. Well, then you’re lucky to be alive.”
“And to have made a friend who can show me to the animal pen.” I slant him a pleading look.
A ghost of a smile turns his lips, and he starts forward, gesturing for me to come along. We fall into step. “You know, most inhabitants of the northern Borderlands don’t think highly of Rivertoads. Are you sure you want to make a friend of one?”
“My grams always said to judge a rose by its blooms,not by where it takes root, and if you knew my grams, you’d know she wasn’t talking about roses.”
He laughs. “You haven’t known me long enough to assess my bloom.”
“Don’t underestimate the power of your stench,” I say through a chuckle.
