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Forest Mage


“I’ll toss in the halter he’s wearing. That’s about it.”

“How much do you want for him?”

“Ten hectors.”

My jaw dropped. I shrugged. “Sorry to have wasted your time.” Good horses were a lot more expensive than I’d thought, but the plugs up the street looked like they’d die in the next fortnight.

A dire thought came to me. Perhaps I’d have to stay in Franner’s Bend and take whatever work I could find. Perhaps this was my journey’s end.

I clenched my jaw, shocked at how my whole soul revolted at the idea. I didn’t want to stay anyplace where I might be recognized as Nevare Burvelle. I had to go on, I had to go east to the new life I would build. But I couldn’t without a horse. My blood bubbled with frustration, and something more. I spoke my thought aloud. “I cannot pay that much. But I must have this horse to go on. Can’t you make me a better price?”

The man’s jaw dropped at my bold words. He literally goggled at me, as if I’d hit him with a club rather than baldly stated my need. Plainly I’d insulted him by speaking the truth. Before he could rant at me, I turned away.

“Hey!”

I turned back to Jirry’s shout. He looked upset. I braced myself for a tirade, but he looked more confused than angry. “I thought we were striking a bargain here. Don’t walk away from me.”

I lifted my hands and let them fall. “You’re asking far more than I can pay.”

“So. What would you pay for him?” He had his fists on his hips, leaning toward me as if I’d already insulted him. “What’s he worth to you?”


I spoke carefully. “I won’t presume to tell you the value of your stock. You’ve named your price, sir. Frankly, I don’t have it. Even if I did, I couldn’t afford to spend that much on a horse without tack. I’ve a long way to go.”

He got that addled look again, and then said reluctantly. “I might have a Plains saddle that would fit him.”

“It’s still more than I can afford. I’m sorry.” I turned again.

The man actually stepped in front of me. His face was reddened. “Make me an offer, before you walk away,” he growled.

It offended me to the roots of my soul. I’d been raised as the son of a nobleman. I was not a traveling tinker, to stand in the street and haggle price. A flush of shame spread up my cheeks. Was this what I had come to? Nevertheless, I steeled myself and revealed the extent of my finances. “The most I could give for any horse right now is five hectors.”

“Oh! You’re robbing me! You can’t imagine I’d sell that animal for half what he’s worth!” The volume of his outraged shout turned heads toward us.

I spoke stiffly. “Of course I don’t expect you to sell him for half your asking price. But five hectors is the most I can offer. Good day.” Before I could turn away, he’d seized the sleeve of my shirt.

“Surely you’ve got something else you could throw in to sweeten the pot? Come on, man, in the spirit of the trade, at least offer me something, to salve my pride if nothing else.”

Mentally, I squirmed. I thought through my paltry possessions. Was there anything I was willing to part with? I had so little. I could feel him watching me. “I have nothing else,” I said at last. “I’m sure he’s worth more than five hectors, but that’s the best I can do.”

“May the good god witness that you are robbing me!” he shouted. We’d acquired an audience. I was sure they stared at the fat man. I resented Jirry making me into a spectacle.

“Have done, sir,” I said with what dignity I could muster. “I must go.”

“Give me the money, then, for I’ve a family to feed! And when people ask you where you got such a fine beast, be sure to tell them you stole him from poor Jirry!”

I took the coins carefully from my pouch, striving that he should not see how many more I actually had. I felt shamed at having driven his price down so far. I felt worse when he dragged out a very worn but serviceable Plains saddle. It was a rudimentary thing, a cross between a real saddle and the dab of padding used by the nomads. The tree was not a good fit for Clove’s back, but it would have to do for now. Jirry helpfully offered a small cask as a mounting block. It gave way under me when I attempted it. I thanked him stiffly and led my new purchase away from the grinning bystanders. I glanced back as I left, still puzzled at how easy it had been to bargain the man down. Jirry was looking after me incredulously. I saw him glance down at the coins in his hand and then back at me as if he, too wondered at the deal.
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