“A’vron will not have to carry us both,” Fiona told her friend, a warm smile on her small face. “Trakand is a respected name in this city. I will acquire a horse in the morning.” In truth, the idea of riding free appealed to her, even knowing the troubles that came with that method of travel. She had been cooped up first by her family, and then by the narrow confines of a boat, for her entirety of her short life. How glorious it would be to simply…live!
Her face felt hot; she reached up to touch her cheeks in surprise. Sabine gave her a cool look, and inexplicably the Andoran began to giggle. Then she couldn’t stop; everything she saw seemed ridiculously amusing. What in the Light? Some rational part of her knew that what was happening was not right, but she quickly forgot what she had been thinking.
---
Fiona rose before the sun as was her norm and immediately wished she had not. Her head throbbed and her stomach protested any movement, so she opted to lie quite still in her bed for a little while until it had settled. Disjointed memories of laughter and music came to her, and she flushed pink. Light, she had been in her cups! How embarrassing. And yet….also, somehow, entertaining even with a pounding headache. She could not force herself to regret the decision.
Eventually she rolled upright, tossed on her cloak, and crept out of her room on bare feet.
The pearly gray of pre-dawn still shrouded Illian outside; inside, there were sounds coming from the kitchen, but otherwise silence reigned. Fiona slipped through the dining room, down the hall, and through the back door. She couldn’t have said what drove her out of the inn -in her shift, no less!- but something had her in its grip, and she had learned long ago that if she listened to that feeling, something good usually came of it. The feeling of curiosity carried her out of the inn’s courtyard, through the gate, and down the street. She watched for landmarks, her hands holding her cloak close about her, as she turned a corner to walk up another street, then down another.
Eventually she ran across a man standing outside what smelled like a baker’s shop, holding a horse on a lead. The man looked like a servant, but Fiona glanced around furtively and saw no sign of the master. She approached him quietly. “Are you waiting for someone?” she asked curiously.
The man was tall, with fair skin and dark hair. He glanced around, then looked down, his mouth spreading into an amused smile when his dark eyes met her blue. “Well good morning little lady,” he said. He thinks I am a child, Fiona thought glumly. Then brightened; perhaps that might work to her advantage. “What can I do for you?” His eyes had traveled from dirty feet, over travel-stained cloak, and up to tousled curls, and Fiona felt her cheeks darken.
Mad impulse drove the young woman’s tongue. “I need a horse,” she said, “mine was stolen and there’s no one at home to take care of my grandmother while my parents take care of our grove.”
“So you do want mine, I do take it?” The older man laughed as he spoke, and to her surprise did not seem immediately dismissive of the idea. “I do like your spunk, girl. My name do be Tav; what be yours?”
Fiona looked up at him, the soul of innocence. “Fiona,” she said, shifting her feet in the dust. “I don’t have any coin, sir. Might I just….borrow the horse?”
“Burn my soul, do I look like I do be born yesterday, Fiona?” Tav asked, not unkindly. “If you do borrow this horse I will no see it again, and you well know it.” His eyes crinkled. Fiona’s lips turned down in an unknown pout, her face dropping. She did not want to use her family’s name to get coin. Word of that would eventually reach house Trakand, and then they would know where to begin looking for her. To her surprise, Tav cleared his throat, regaining her attention.
“Tell you what, girlie. If you do beat me at dice, I will gift you the horse.” It was a rigged offer, and Fiona knew it. She didn’t know how to play at dice -had only really seen it played from afar- and he had surely guessed that from her appearance. Yet...it couldn’t hurt to play, and if she won, she had a horse.
She held out her hand, the other still holding her cloak firmly closed. The last thing she needed was for this man to see she wore only a thin linen shift! “Deal,” she said cheerfully, “on the condition that you teach me how to play first.”
---
Fiona had one hand on Star’s neck, feeding her an apple when Sabine found her. The Saldaean’s eyebrow went up, eyes politely skipping past Fiona’s dirty clothing to look dispassionately at the beast the Andoran was caring for. “I won her off a man named Tav,” Fiona said, unable to keep her mirth from her voice as she patted the mare’s neck one more time and handed her lead to the stableboy. “He said if I beat him at dice, I could have Star. I….beat him.”
After he had taught her to play, her fingers had begun to itch, and she had known -as assuredly as she knew her own name- that she would win the game. Five times in a row she had thrown serpent’s eyes. The fifth time, she had done so with great care so he might see she did not cheat. Something do be at work here, the Illianer had said, pulling away from her. Take the horse and leave me be.
Her face felt hot; she reached up to touch her cheeks in surprise. Sabine gave her a cool look, and inexplicably the Andoran began to giggle. Then she couldn’t stop; everything she saw seemed ridiculously amusing. What in the Light? Some rational part of her knew that what was happening was not right, but she quickly forgot what she had been thinking.
---
Fiona rose before the sun as was her norm and immediately wished she had not. Her head throbbed and her stomach protested any movement, so she opted to lie quite still in her bed for a little while until it had settled. Disjointed memories of laughter and music came to her, and she flushed pink. Light, she had been in her cups! How embarrassing. And yet….also, somehow, entertaining even with a pounding headache. She could not force herself to regret the decision.
Eventually she rolled upright, tossed on her cloak, and crept out of her room on bare feet.
The pearly gray of pre-dawn still shrouded Illian outside; inside, there were sounds coming from the kitchen, but otherwise silence reigned. Fiona slipped through the dining room, down the hall, and through the back door. She couldn’t have said what drove her out of the inn -in her shift, no less!- but something had her in its grip, and she had learned long ago that if she listened to that feeling, something good usually came of it. The feeling of curiosity carried her out of the inn’s courtyard, through the gate, and down the street. She watched for landmarks, her hands holding her cloak close about her, as she turned a corner to walk up another street, then down another.
Eventually she ran across a man standing outside what smelled like a baker’s shop, holding a horse on a lead. The man looked like a servant, but Fiona glanced around furtively and saw no sign of the master. She approached him quietly. “Are you waiting for someone?” she asked curiously.
The man was tall, with fair skin and dark hair. He glanced around, then looked down, his mouth spreading into an amused smile when his dark eyes met her blue. “Well good morning little lady,” he said. He thinks I am a child, Fiona thought glumly. Then brightened; perhaps that might work to her advantage. “What can I do for you?” His eyes had traveled from dirty feet, over travel-stained cloak, and up to tousled curls, and Fiona felt her cheeks darken.
Mad impulse drove the young woman’s tongue. “I need a horse,” she said, “mine was stolen and there’s no one at home to take care of my grandmother while my parents take care of our grove.”
“So you do want mine, I do take it?” The older man laughed as he spoke, and to her surprise did not seem immediately dismissive of the idea. “I do like your spunk, girl. My name do be Tav; what be yours?”
Fiona looked up at him, the soul of innocence. “Fiona,” she said, shifting her feet in the dust. “I don’t have any coin, sir. Might I just….borrow the horse?”
“Burn my soul, do I look like I do be born yesterday, Fiona?” Tav asked, not unkindly. “If you do borrow this horse I will no see it again, and you well know it.” His eyes crinkled. Fiona’s lips turned down in an unknown pout, her face dropping. She did not want to use her family’s name to get coin. Word of that would eventually reach house Trakand, and then they would know where to begin looking for her. To her surprise, Tav cleared his throat, regaining her attention.
“Tell you what, girlie. If you do beat me at dice, I will gift you the horse.” It was a rigged offer, and Fiona knew it. She didn’t know how to play at dice -had only really seen it played from afar- and he had surely guessed that from her appearance. Yet...it couldn’t hurt to play, and if she won, she had a horse.
She held out her hand, the other still holding her cloak firmly closed. The last thing she needed was for this man to see she wore only a thin linen shift! “Deal,” she said cheerfully, “on the condition that you teach me how to play first.”
---
Fiona had one hand on Star’s neck, feeding her an apple when Sabine found her. The Saldaean’s eyebrow went up, eyes politely skipping past Fiona’s dirty clothing to look dispassionately at the beast the Andoran was caring for. “I won her off a man named Tav,” Fiona said, unable to keep her mirth from her voice as she patted the mare’s neck one more time and handed her lead to the stableboy. “He said if I beat him at dice, I could have Star. I….beat him.”
After he had taught her to play, her fingers had begun to itch, and she had known -as assuredly as she knew her own name- that she would win the game. Five times in a row she had thrown serpent’s eyes. The fifth time, she had done so with great care so he might see she did not cheat. Something do be at work here, the Illianer had said, pulling away from her. Take the horse and leave me be.