“Leave off, sir! He’s battle-trained.” Sirlofty had instantly reacted to a stranger trying to seize his headstall. I put a hand on my horse to calm him, and then said coldly, “I’ve no need to hide what is mine. All I’m need is a place to sleep for the night, and a stall for my horse.”
The man looked at me, glanced back at the child, and then looked at me again.
“Very well. But the only place I can put him is around the back. I’ve a paddock there. Shall I take him there?”
“I’ll bring him.” I was already feeling dubious about the man. But he led and I followed to a shed and small paddock behind his home. Two milk goats were the only occupants; there was plenty of room for Sirlofty. It was relatively clean, and the hay looked decent. I nodded my approval and put my horse up. The man fetched a bucket of clean water for him and I gave him a good feed of hay. While he was eating, I went down on one knee to check his hooves and legs. His left foreleg was warmer than the others but not badly swollen. I grunted my dismay, and hauled myself to my feet.
“Are you going to stay here?” the girl asked pointedly, holding out her palm.
I flipped her other pewter into the air. She snatched it and was gone.
“Precocious little wench,” I observed to the man.
He shrugged. “Most convicts’ get are. Or they don’t survive.”
“Her father’s in prison?”
“He was. Then he came out here, working off his sentence on the King’s Road. When his stint was done, he got his land allotment. And like a lot of the convicts, he had no idea what to do with it. They send thieves and rapists out here from Old Thares and say, ‘Here you go, be a farmer.’ They don’t know how to milk a goat or plant a seed in the ground. Farvi’s father wasn’t a bad fellow, but stealing was the only way he knew to make a living. So someone killed him. Franner’s Bend is full of men like him, and their half-wild children. Farvi’s a smart little girl, but when she’s old enough to turn to picking pockets or whoring, she will. There isn’t much else for girls like her. Now. You wanted a room?”
The bluntness of his words took my breath away. I just nodded. I followed him through the yard where a young woman gaped at me, and then quickly resumed sweeping the flagstones. My host showed me to the back door of his house, and then to a very small room, not much bigger than the cot it held. I nodded it would do. “How much?” I asked warily.
“Six talleys.”
At the look on my face, he added, “And I’ll throw in your horse’s food and a meal tonight and breakfast tomorrow for you.” He cleared his throat. “Not large meals, mind, but enough to keep you going.”
It was still more than I wanted to pay, but I nodded sourly. “I’m going out to walk about town a bit. Franner’s Bend has changed a lot since I was last here.”
“Oh, I’ll wager that’s true. It’s changed since the beginning of summer, and not just from the plague sweeping through here. Keep your hand on your purse, that’s my advice. Half the whores in this town will rob you blind. The other half have friends who will kill you and strip your body of everything you’ve got.”
I wondered if he’d known I’d had a stray thought about that possibility. I shook my head at both of us. “Where would I find the horse dealers in town?”
The man squinted his eyes at me. “You want to sell that horse, I’ll give you a fair price for him. Like I said before, you won’t get far with him. It’s too obvious that he’s not yours.”
“But he is.” I spoke each word deliberately. “And I’m not interested in selling him. I want to buy a horse for my journey. A large sturdy one. Where would I look?” I knew what I had to do and was already steeling myself for the task.
“Big horses? Down near the Rivergate. There’s usually a good selection there, because of the canal boats. Look for a man named Jirry and tell him Guff sent you.”
“And he’ll give me a better bargain.”
Guff grinned. “No. But he’ll know that he owes me a favor if you do buy an animal from him. And he’s a competitive trader. He isn’t the cheapest down there, but that’s because he doesn’t deal in worked-out animals. Try him, at least.”
I promised I would and set out on foot for the Rivergate. Franner’s Bend had become a sprawling warren of little mud-brick houses. The huts and cottages contrasted sharply with one another. Some were plain and others had been slapped with a lime whitewash. Miniuscule gardens grew vegetables and a few flowers. Dogs and children ran loose in the streets. A few people looked prosperous, but a far greater proportion of the residents were ragged and scrawny folk.
