Jayne Castle [Jayne Ann Krentz] (7 page)

and dashed for the safety of her apartment.

Page 23

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Ripples of brilliantly hued sarsilk floated through Kalena's fingers. She stared in delighted wonder at the

array of fabrics spread before her. The collection of expensive sarsilk brought all the way from Antipodes

was only a portion of what was available here on Weavers Street.

Today she had seen velvets in every color of the Spectrum, from fine lanti wool for winter cloaks and

tunics to beautifully woven Risha cloth, a fabric made locally in town. Kalena had never had such an

array and she was almost overwhelmed by the prospect of choosing her selection. But even more

amazing to her was the knowledge that she wouldn't have to sew these garments herself. For the first time

since she had been a child, someone else could be paid to make clothes for her. Kalena wanted to laugh

at the small sense of freedom that fact gave her. Not that she minded sewing, but having someone else do

it was so much more pleasant. Standing on the threshold of real freedom was a giddy experience.

"The tunics are no problem," remarked the shopkeeper, a strong-featured woman of middle years and

extensive bargaining skill. "I can have those ready this afternoon. The riding clothes will be ready by

tomorrow The trousers should be properly fitted for comfort, you understand."

Kalena nodded. She wanted the stylish new tunics as quicklyas possible, but there was no great urgency

about the riding outfit. After all, she had no intention of leaving on the contracted journey with Ridge. She

had only ordered the riding clothes because Ridge was sure to ask if she had. Kalena had given much

consideration to the matter of who should pay for the riding garments and the wedding cloak. Ridge

expected to do so and she had finally convinced herself that there was nothing dishonorable in allowing

him to pay the bills.

After all, once Quintel was dead, a journey to the Heights of Variance would be impossible until another

trade baron had been approved by the Town Council. With its reason for existing in the first place gone,

the marriage contract would, no doubt, by mutual agreement be cancelled. But Kalena could hardly

explain to Ridge why the equipment and clothes for the journey were unnecessary, so she really had no

choice but to let him pay for them.

Kalena was relieved by her decision. The issue might involve a fine point of honor, but for the daughter

of a Great House, even the finest points were important. Nodding with satisfaction, she turned to the

shopkeeper and said, "I will also need a wedding cloak."

The woman's eyes lit up with mercantile enthusiasm. This farmer's daughter did not appear to be

wealthy, but even a woman from a farm town would want to spend as much as possible on a wedding

cloak. With a little ingenuity it might be possible to coax this client into spending more than she had

originally planned. "But of course. I have several suitable fabrics in stock. The sarsilk is considered

appropriate. Have you decided upon a color?"

It was the bride's right to choose the color in which she would be married. The matter was important

because the groom was obliged by convention to wear a man's cloak in a properly contrasting color.

Traditionally, brides chose pale colors from the Light end of the Spectrum, making it easy for their

grooms to find a suitable counterpoint. But Kalena thought this was as good a time as any to begin her

permanent break with tradition.

"Something in red," Kalena said smoothly, a perverse sense of humor making her finger a piece of scarlet

sarsilk. Red was an assertive choice. There was little that could counter it. Kalena looked forward to

seeing how Ridge met the challenge.

The shopkeeper raised one eyebrow but said nothing. The scarlet sarsilk was very expensive and she

was not about to kill a good sale by reminding the bride that she was flying in the face of convention. "I

Page 24

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

have no cloak available in this fabric, but I can have it made up by tomorrow afternoon. When is the

wedding?"

"The day after tomorrow," Kalena said, moving along the counter to examine a bolt of green Risha cloth.

"Have the cloak sent to the House of the Gliding Fallon. And send the bill for it and the riding clothes to

the man named Ridge who works for the lord of that House. I will pay for everything else."

"The House of the Gliding Fallon?" The interest in the shopkeeper's eyes quickened. "You are to be

married to an employee of Trade Baron Quintel?"

Before Kalena could respond, the wooden door of the shop swung open and a familiar voice answered

the question. "I saw the contract, myself, Melita. This farmer's daughter is indeed going to marry a man

who works for Lord Quintel, and her groom is no mere servant of the House, believe me. Ridge is almost

a son of the House." Arrisa turned, a brilliant smile of greeting on her face. "Hello, Kalena."

Kalena returned the other woman's smile tentatively. "I wish you good morning, Arrisa. Are you

shopping on Weavers Street today?"

"Umm," Arrisa murmured offhandedly. "I need a new pair of boots but I thought I saw you come in here

and I decided to see how things went yesterday. What do you think of your future trade husband?"

Kalena hesitated briefly, remembering the scene in the moonlit garden. "I found him formidable in some

respects," she admitted dryly.

Good-natured laughter burst from Arrisa as she sauntered over to the counter. "Formidable. I like that.

What a pretty way of putting it. It would be most amusing to discuss the matter with you on the morning

after your wedding night when you are serving your husband his yant tea."

Kalena smiled politely, hiding her embarrassment. It seemed that almost any subject was acceptable on

the streets of Crosspurposes. She was aware of the old custom of a wife rising in the morning to brew

and serve yant tea to her husband before he left the pallet. Kalena had vague memories of her mother

performing the small ritual for her father. No matter how rich a House or how many servants it employed,

the wife alone made her husband's morning tea. The standard joke among married men was that they

judged the mood of their wives by the bitterness or sweetness of the drought that was served.

"Has anyone told you yet why Ridge is called Fire Whip?" Arrisa asked conversationally.

"You told me yesterday that he is called Quintel's whip because the trade baron uses him to clear up

trading difficulties on the routes," Kalena answered carefully.

Arrisa waved that aside. "I am referring to the fire part of his name, not the whip. Has no one told you

the rumors?"

Kalena's mouth curved downward. "I get the impression gossip is not encouraged in the House of the

Gliding Fallon. The servants are a very silent lot."

Arrisa grinned. "That doesn't surprise me. Quintel can afford anything, even silence from his servants.

Well, Kalena, since you are going to be sharing a sleeping pallet with Ridge, perhaps you should be told

why there is fire in his name. I feel a sisterly obligation to warn you. Women have to stick together, don't

we?" Her voice lowered and automatically both Kalena and the shopkeeper leaned closer. "It is said that

he is one of those rare men who can make the steel of Countervail glow red with the force of his anger."

Page 25

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

For an instant hushed silence filled the shop. Even the woman behind the counter was taken aback. She

stared at Arrisa while Kalena frowned, trying to remember the tales. "The stories of such men are just

that for the most part," she finally protested. "Mere yarns woven by the story spinners. It is said there are

such men in every generation, but they are very few and far between. The odds of encountering one are

unbelievably high."

Arrisa shrugged. "The stories surrounding Ridge are strong enough to have given him a name. There

must be some element of truth to them."

"It takes little to hang a name on a man," the shopkeeper pointed out.

"True, but why this name on this particular man?" Arrisa countered.

"Perhaps because the trade master is possessed of a quick temper," Kalena said placatingly, not wishing

to argue over the matter. "Legend has it that the ability to heat the steel of Countervail goes hand-in-hand

with a savage temper."

"Most men have bad tempers," the shopkeeper pointed out philosophically. "It has always seemed to me

that it takes very little to anger a man. Since my husband died I have not been in any hurry to remarry

because of that fact. The calm at home has been a relief. And the profits from this shop are all mine to

spend as I see fit."

"The kind of fury it takes to make the steel of Countervail glow with the heat of fire is only distantly

related to your average dose of masculine temper," Arrisa announced. "Personally, if I were you I would

be cautious, Kalena. You have contracted a dangerous marriage."

"It is merely a business arrangement," Kalena insisted mildly. She turned to the shopkeeper. "Please have

the cloak made up in the red sarsilk. I'll pick up the tunics later this afternoon."

"And the riding outfit?" the shopkeeper asked quickly, making notes with an ink-filled quill.

Kalena thought about it for a moment, wondering if she would ever wear the garment. "Have it made up

in the dark green."

"Excellent." The shopkeeper smiled in satisfaction. "I have your measurements. I will set the seamstress

to work immediately. Now, the bill for the cloak and the riding clothes go to this Ridge at the House of

the Gliding Fallon, but the other garments you will be paying for yourself?"

Kalena caught the not-so-subtle hint. She removed the small wallet from the belt she wore at her waist

and began counting out grans. The heavy coins clinked on the countertop under the shopkeeper's

watchful eye. When a suitable stack of them had been set out the woman smiled again and scooped them

into a drawer.

Arrisa watched the transaction with interest before falling into step beside Kalena, who made to leave

the shop. "What's next? Boots, perhaps?"

"Yes," Kalena admitted, "and a couple of shirts for Ridge."

"Aha. Has you buying his shirts already, does he? The man means to take full advantage of the

convenience of a wife. The next thing you know he'll have you embroidering his initials on his garments."

Page 26

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Arrisa laughed, then turned to Kalena with narrowed eyes. "That business with a cloak ..."

"For some reason Trade Baron Quintel wishes to have a formal ceremony to seal the contract," Kalena

explained as they stepped out onto the stone path.

"And Ridge will humor him, of course. Ridge will do just about anything for the trade baron. Remember

that, Kalena," Arrisa said with unexpected seriousness. "Ridge's first loyalty will always be to Quintel. It's

said that Quintel rescued him from a life on the streets of Countervail and since the day they met, Ridge

has repaid him with absolute loyalty." Then, almost instantly, her mood lightened again. "But if you are to

sacrifice yourself on the altar of a contract wedding, you should have a proper trade wife send-off," she

announced with sudden enthusiasm. "Don't you agree?"

"A proper send-off?" Kalena gave her companion a curious, questioning glance.

"A last night of freedom before you hit the trail. My friends and I will come for you shortly before the

evening meal tomorrow night," Arrisa said decisively. "I have several friends who will be glad to join us.

We'll make certain you enjoy the night, Kalena."

"The night? We will spend an evening in the taverns?" Astounded excitement lit Kalena's eyes as she

considered the prospect. Such an evening would have been unheard of back home. No respectable

woman went out at night to a tavern, alone or even in the company of other women. But apparently it

was not looked down on here in the town; another small taste of what lay ahead in her free future.

"The prospect interests you?" Arrisa asked with a grin.

"Very much," Kalena said enthusiastically. "I'll wear one of my new tunics. I ordered some short ones,

just like yours. You are very gracious to invite me to join your friends, Arrisa."

Arrisa chuckled. "It's going to be an amusing evening."

The formal dining chamber of Quintel's magnificent house was done in subtly contrasting shades of tan

and pale blue. Kalena had become accustomed to the strongly balanced hues used throughout the house.

She was grateful for the softer shade of sand and sea used in this room. Normally she was fond of vivid

colors, but these middle Spectrum tones were more soothing to her nerves tonight.

To say the least, she found it somewhat stressful to sit down to dine with the man she had come to kill

and the man to whom she was contracted in marriage.

It had all seemed so distant and abstract back home in Interlock. The man called Quintel had been only

a name, part of her aunt's endlessly repeated tales. Marriage to a stranger named Ridge had been
only a

means to an end. But for two nights she had shared a meal with both of these men, and her aunt's bitter