Graceling (Graceling Realm #1)(27)
Author: Kristin Cashore

She rolled her eyes. “Spare me your confessions. If she’s unmarried, I don’t understand why her father sends her out to serve these men. I’m not certain she’s safe among them.”

“Her father stands at the bar, most of the time. No one would dare harm her.”

“But he’s not there always – he’s not there now. And just because they don’t assault her doesn’t mean they respect her.” Or that they would not seek her out later.

The girl circled the table of merchants, pouring cider into each cup. When one of the men reached for her arm, she recoiled. The merchants burst into laughter. The man reached out to her then and drew back, reached out and drew back, taunting her. His friends laughed harder. And then the man at the girl’s other side grabbed her wrist and held on, and there was a great whoop from the men. She tried to pul away, but the laughing man wouldn’t let go. Red with shame, she looked into none of their faces, only pulled at her arm. She was too much like a dumb, confused rabbit caught in a trap, and suddenly Katsa was standing. And Po was standing, too, and he had Katsa by the arm.

For an instant Katsa appreciated the strange symmetry; except that unlike the serving girl, she could break from Po’s grip, and unlike the merchant, Po had good reason to hold her arm. And Katsa wouldn’t break from the grip of his fingers, for she didn’t need to. Her rise to her feet had been enough. The room froze into stillness. The man dropped the girl’s arm. He stared at Katsa with a white face and an open mouth – fear, as familiar to Katsa as the feel of her own body. The girl stared, too, and caught her breath and pressed her hand to her chest.

“Sit down, Katsa.” Po’s voice was low. “It’s over now. Sit down.”

She did sit down. The room let out its breath. After a few moments, voices murmured, and then talked and laughed again. But Katsa wasn’t sure that it was over. Perhaps it was over with this girl, and these merchants. But there would be a new group of merchants tomorrow. And these merchants would move on, and find themselves another girl.

———

Later that evening, as Katsa prepared for bed, two girls came to her room to cut her hair. “Is it too late, My Lady?”

asked the elder, who carried scissors and a brush.

“No. The sooner I have it off, the better. Please, come in.”

They were young, younger than the serving girl. The younger, a child of ten or eleven years, carried a broom and a dustpan. They sat Katsa down and moved around her shyly. They spoke little. Breathless around her, not quite frightened but near to it. The older girl untied Katsa’s hair and began to work her fingers through the tangle. “Forgive me if I hurt you, My Lady.”

“It won’t hurt me,” Katsa said. “And you needn’t unravel the knots. I want you to cut it all off, as short as you can.

As short as a man’s.”

The eyes of both girls widened. “I’ve cut the hair of many men,” the older girl said.

“You may cut mine just as you’ve cut theirs,” Katsa said. “The shorter you cut it, the happier I’ll be.”

The scissors snipped around Katsa’s ears, and her head grew lighter and lighter. How odd to turn her neck and not feel the pul of hair, the heavy snarl swinging around behind her. The younger girl held the broom and swept the hair clippings away the instant they fel to the floor.

“Is it your sister I saw serving drinks in the eating room?” Katsa asked.

“Yes, My Lady.”

“How old is she?”

“Sixteen, My Lady.”

“And you?”

“I’m fourteen, and my sister eleven, My Lady.”

Katsa watched the younger girl col ecting hair with a broom tal er than she was.

“Does anyone teach the girls of the inn to protect themselves?” she asked. “Do you carry a knife?”

“Our father protects us, and our brother,” the girl said, simply.

The girls clipped and swept, and Katsa’s hair fel away. She thril ed at the unfamiliar chil of air on her neck. And wondered if other girls in Sunder, and across the seven kingdoms, carried knives; or if they all looked to their fathers and brothers for every protection.

———

A knock woke her. She sat up. It came from the door that adjoined her room to Po’s. She hadn’t been asleep long, and it was midnight; and enough moonlight spil ed through her window so that if it wasn’t Po who knocked, and if it was an enemy, she could see well enough to beat the person senseless. all these thoughts swept through her mind in the instant she sat up.

“Katsa, it’s only I,” his voice cal ed, through the keyhole. “It’s a double lock. You must unlock it from your side.”

She rolled out of bed. And where was the key?

“My key was hanging beside the door,” he cal ed, and she took a moment to glare in his general direction.

“I only guessed you were looking for the key. It wasn’t my Grace, so you needn’t get all huffy about it.”

Katsa felt along the wall. Her fingers touched a key. “Doesn’t it make you nervous to hol er like that? Anyone could hear you. You could be revealing your precious Grace to a whole legion of my lovers.”

His laughter came muffled through the door. “I would know if anyone heard my voice. And I’d also know if you were in there with a legion of lovers. Katsa – have you cut your hair?”

She snorted. “Wonderful. That’s just wonderful. I’ve no privacy, and you sense even my hair.” She turned the key in the lock and swung the door open. Po straightened, a candle in his hand.

“Great seas,” he said.

“What do you want?”

He held his candle up to her face.

“Po, what do you want?”

“She did a far better job than I would have done.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Katsa said, and she reached for the door.

“Al right, all right. The men, the merchants. The Sunderan men who were bothering that girl. I think they intend to come to us this night and speak to us.”

“How do you know?”

“Their rooms are below us.”

She shook her head, disbelieving. “No one in this inn has privacy.”

“My sense of them is faint, Katsa. I cannot sense everyone down to the ends of their hair, as I do you.”

She sighed. “What an honor, then, to be me. They’re coming in the middle of the night?”

“Yes.”

“Do they have information?”

“I believe they do.”

“Do you trust them?”

“Not particularly. I think they’l come soon, Katsa. When they do I’ll knock on your outer door.”

Katsa nodded. “Very well . I’ll be ready.”

She stepped back into her room and pulled the door behind her. She lit a candle, splashed water on her face, and prepared herself for the arrival of the late-night merchants.

———

Six merchants had sat around the table in the eating room and laughed at the serving girl. When Po’s knock brought her to the door, she found him standing in the hal way with all six, each carrying a candle that cast a dark light over a bearded face. They were tal , and broad-backed, all six of them, enormous next to her, and even the small est tal er and broader than Po. Quite a band of bul ies. She followed them back to Po’s room.

“You’re awake and dressed, My Lord Prince, My Lady,” the biggest of the merchants said as they filed into Po’s chamber. It was the man who’d first tried to grab the girl’s arm, the one who’d first teased her. Katsa registered the mockery as he spoke their titles. He had no more respect for them than they had for him. The one who’d taken the girl’s wrist stood beside him, and those two seemed to be the leaders of the group. They stood together, in the middle of the room, facing Po, while the other four faded into the background.

They were well spread out, these merchants. Katsa moved to the side door, the door that led to her room, and leaned against it with her arms crossed. She was steps from Po and the two leaders, and she could see the other four. It was more precaution than was necessary. But it didn’t hurt for any of them to know she was watching.

“We’ve been receiving visitors throughout the night,” Po said, an easy lie. “You’re not the only travelers at the inn who have information about my grandfather.”

“Be careful of the others, Lord Prince,” said the biggest merchant. “Men will lie for money.”

Po raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for your warning.” He slouched against the table behind him and put his hands in his pockets. Katsa swal owed her smile. She rather enjoyed Po’s cocky laziness.

“What information do you have for us?” Po asked.

“How much will you pay?” the man said.

“I’ll pay whatever the information warrants.”

“There are six of us,” the man said.

“I’ll give it to you in coins divisible by six,” Po said, “if that’s what you wish.”

“I meant, Lord Prince, that it’s not worth our time to divulge information if you’l not compensate us enough for six men.”

Po chose that moment to yawn. When he spoke, his voice was calm, even friendly. “I won’t haggle over a price when I don’t know the breadth of your information. You’l be fairly compensated. If that doesn’t satisfy you, you’re free to leave.”

The man rocked on his feet for a moment. He glanced sideways at his partner. His partner nodded, and the man cleared his throat.

“Very well,” he said. “We have information that links the kidnapping to King Birn of Wester.”

“How interesting,” Po said, and the farce had begun. Po asked all the questions one would ask if one were conducting this interrogation seriously. What was the source of their information? Was the man trustworthy who had spoken of Birn? What was the motivation for the kidnapping? Had Birn the assistance of any other kingdoms? Was Grandfather Tealiff in Birn’s dungeons? How were Birn’s dungeons guarded?

“Wel , Lady,” Po said, with a glance in her direction, “we’l have to send word quickly, so that my brothers know to investigate the dungeons of Birn of Wester.”

“You won’t travel there yourselves?” The man was surprised. And disappointed, most likely, that he hadn’t managed to send Po and Katsa on a futile mission.

“We go south, and east,” Po said. “To Monsea, and King Leck.”

“Leck was not responsible for the kidnapping,” the man said.