never arrived.’ Shiela’s eyes met Yoleth’s and traded secrets. ‘Perhaps their summonses went awry.’
‘Perhaps. It is just as well. They are too easily influenced by Rebeke’s boldness. My errands, at least, went well.’
‘But we must not!’ Lilae sat up, going whiter. ‘Rebeke knows all! She says if we harm her Romni, she will never let us look upon the Relic. She says –’
‘What a child!’ Shiela’s voice held no tolerance. ‘Rebeke knows all! It’s a bluff. She knows nothing, not for certain. “The breeze brings me news!” Sheer frippery! Only a fool would be taken in by it. No doubt she has heard something, for some tongues in this room wag overmuch, and out of place. But our plans need not change.’
‘You gave your word.’ Lilae was shaken but determined.
‘We aren’t going to kill the teamster, nor put her in a void. And that’s all I gave my word for.’ Shiela looked away from Lilae. Her eyes locked with Yoleth’s and they reached some agreement.
‘The High Council is dismissed,’ Yoleth announced perfunctorily. ‘You all have acolytes to see to; a better occupation than sitting here and fretting over shadows. And Lilae?’ The young Windmistress turned to look at Yoleth reproachfully. ‘Do not be upset. You are young, and full of ideals. I am old, and full of necessities. But one of my necessities is that I keep Windsingers like you by me, to temper my cynicism with your trusting ways. Put the Romni matter from your mind. Let it be upon my head, not yours. Sing with a clear conscience today. May the wind rise ever obedient to your call.’
‘As to yours,’ Lilae replied formally and left.
After a few moments, Yoleth checked the hall to be sure it was empty. She drew close to Shiela and spoke softly.
‘Exactly what does Rebeke know?’
‘She knows you don’t like Romni singing. She seemed to accept that as your reason. But I would still like to hear the real one.’
Yoleth measured the other Windsinger speculatively. ‘Not yet. But soon I shall tell you all. Be flattered that you know as much as you do.’
Shiela appeared to be on the point of speaking. But she swallowed her first words and only observed, ‘It is hard to put trust where one is not trusted.’
Yoleth only smiled at her.
Vandien pinched the heavy weave of the fabric between thumb and forefinger. He gave the vest a shake, and the bright colors almost flashed in the afternoon sun. He raised one eyebrow at the woman in the stall.
‘You know my price!’ she reminded him firmly. ‘And you can see it’s worth it. Try it on, and feel the weight of it.’
Vandien obeyed, slipping it on over his loose linen shirt. He rolled his shoulders in it, and tugged the front even. ‘It fits well,’ he grudgingly admitted. ‘But …’
‘But he can’t possibly be serious.’ He turned his head sharply at the amused voice behind him. Ki stood there, her mouth puckered in mock dismay, her arms laden with supplies.
‘I am. And why not?’
‘Blue is your color. And green, yellow, red, and black as well. But not all at once.’
‘Not usually. But last time we stopped with the Romni, Oscar told me that a man who dresses as simply as I do is like a cockerel without feathers. What do you think of this?’ Vandien pulled the front of the vest down straight so that the embroidery of birds, flowers and vines could be admired.
‘I think Big Oscar is right. If you wear that vest, no chicken could resist you.’
He met her laughing eyes with no amusement. ‘I think I like it.’
‘Walk about a bit and think it over before you buy. If you still like it, I am sure it will still be here.’ Ki made her suggestion in a practical voice.
‘I suppose.’ Vandien took off the vest slowly and replaced it on the piles of merchandise. The woman in the stall shrugged at him and rolled her eyes. Vandien gave her a grin she had to answer, and then turned away to Ki.
‘Take some of this stuff, will you?’ she demanded, and began to unload into his arms. ‘Help me carry it back to the wagon. Can you think of anything else we need?’
‘What do you have there?’
She inventoried as she loaded it into his arms. ‘Smoked salted fish; red pomes; tea; honey in that brown pot; that’s a string of onions over your shoulder; lard in the wooden box; cheese, and a square of leather for new gloves.’
Vandien stared down at his load. ‘It all sounds very practical and essential.’ Disappointment dulled his voice.
‘What did you want? Pickled chestnuts and peacock feathers?’ Ki was nettled. She spoke over her shoulder as they edged through the busy market. When Vandien did not reply, she glanced back at him. He had paused at a stall aflutter with gay scarves. Belatedly he remembered her and fell in behind her.
‘No. Nothing like that. I’d just like to see you be a little more impulsive. Enjoy life.’
‘You’re impulsive enough for both of us,’ Ki pointed out.
Vandien shifted his load. They were out of the main press of the market, but Ki had left the wagon and horses behind the inn. Curly dark hair sagged forward onto his brow and fell into his eyes. He blew up at it, but it only tickled the more. ‘You’re just jealous of me,’ he accused her gravely.
‘Indeed.’ Ki juggled her own parcels and slowed to walk beside him. They were nearly of a height, and their eyes met with sparks. ‘I suppose next you will be saying that I secretly desire to wear a vest with trees and birds sprouting all over it.’
‘No, not my taste. You’re jealous of my ability to enjoy life. You tiptoe through your days, worrying about warm underwear and axle grease, while I stride through mine singing. You’re lost all your edges, Ki. You nibble at the dry corners of your life.’
‘Instead of cramming it all into my mouth at once, like some folk we know.’
‘Exactly.’ Vandien bowed his head to acknowledge the compliment. ‘This afternoon – I am quite safe in predicting – you will drink exactly and precisely the three bowls of Cinmeth you permit yourself to consume in a public inn, while I take down as much Alys as they have and I can afford. Isn’t that true? What can you say to that?’
‘Only that I’m glad the wagon is right in the innyard. I detest dragging you through city streets in broad daylight.’
‘Oh, that’s funny,’ Vandien snarled.
‘Truth stings.’ Ki grinned at him smugly. As they reached the wagon, she turned and added her burden to the items he already carried. She climbed up the tall yellow wheel onto the plank seat, and reached back down to receive the supplies from him. ‘Come up here and help me put this stuff away,’ she invited.
‘Do it yourself,’ he growled as he climbed up beside her. She slid open the cuddy door and climbed down into the living quarters of the wagon. The front half of the freight wagon had been closed in to resemble half a Romni wagon. Ki stood in the center of the tidy little cabin and put things away as he passed them to her. A platform covered with hides and blankets was the bed at one end of the room. The cuddy walls were a patchwork of shelves, cupboard, nooks and hooks. A small table folded down under the single tiny window with its greased skin pane. It took only moments for Ki to place every item on its shelf or in its bin. She looked up at Vandien sulking on the seat. She tried to straighten her face to match his.
‘You’re disgusted with me.’
‘I am.’
‘Because