Fifteen—or perhaps it was seventeen—caravans later Hekate walked wearily beside her pack ass in the string of animals as they moved steadily toward the river. Her glance took in the busy traffic. Colchis was a prosperous city and from her present vantage point, very beautiful.
Hekate thought that she, too, had prospered in the nearly two years since she had left Yasmakh. The pack ass had been purchased with fees she had earned and gifts from grateful patients. She could have purchased a riding ass as well as the pack animal, but she could not bring herself to ride when Kabeiros had to walk every foot of the way. And the distance from him when she was mounted, the inability to touch him, had an unsettling effect on her. From the back of an ass, she saw the man too clearly. She needed to touch the dog to remind herself of what was real, what unreal, no matter that her heart cried for it.
She put her hand on the dog's head. Now they were in Colchis. Perhaps she would find someone who knew how to untangle strands of magic trapped in a Gift—but she didn't dare think much about that tantalizing prospect until she discovered whether the Gifted were regarded with the same toleration that use of magic was.
The pack ass's head was hanging. It was tired, poor beast, and had a right to be. It was just as well that she hadn't bought a saddle ass; she couldn't have done much riding in the past three moons anyway. She shuddered slightly as she recalled that trek, in turn freezing and burning desert and nearly perpendicular mountains cut by madly rushing, unfordable rivers. No more comfortable caravanserais; no more busy markets by the city gates where she could lay out her herbs and packets of remedies.
Almost all of her profits had come from the cities—Aleppo, where she had to wait a full moon for a caravan master she could trust and Kanish and Satala where she had spent the winters. No one in the meager villages they had stopped at to find shelter since leaving Satala could pay in metal for her cures—and many needed them.
Most could barely afford the food they offered her. But in one place she had been given small rugs of unusual softness and exquisite design. Those were offered by the weaving community as a whole for a remedy she had devised for the swollen, aching finger joints engendered by their work. The salve was purely herbal, as she assured the village wise-woman who asked if the spell would need to be renewed, and she told her how to prepare it—if she could find the ingredients. But the question about magic had not been fearful, and the farther north they traveled, the more acceptable magic became.
In another place, she had been asked by the priest of the village if she had any healing spells and had exchanged one for a spell that could hold people and animals frozen in a moment of time. The priest warned her that the spell never lasted long. He thought the life-force of those it was cast upon negated the spell. Judging from how she read him and that Kabeiros could hardly smell his magic, Hekate thought the priest simply didn't have enough power to cast the spell properly. She was more concerned about the length of the spell itself than how long it would last. The invocation was so lengthy, she was sure the intended victim would have time to walk away or even to attack the spell-caster.
More interesting even than the spell was the fact that she had no reluctance at all to teach the priest her spell to stop bleeding and no reluctance—even an eagerness—to learn the new spell. When she considered casting it to see how long it would take and whether she could make it work, she again felt her body stiffen, her throat close with fear.
That was ridiculous! She had just learned the spell from the village priest. He used magic all the time—he had told her so, and the villagers clearly regarded magic as a useful tool, not something to be feared or hated. Moreover the priest had said nothing about magic being reserved for those consecrated to a god. Yet within her was a frantic warning that giving her the spell was a trap, that if she tried to use it, she would be caught and punished severely.
Once they were out of the village, Hekate had fought down her ridiculous fear and attempted to use the spell on a rabbit she spotted in a field, holding Kabeiros back from his normal instinct to chase. As she expected, the rabbit hopped off out of sight before she had finished the lengthy invocation.
*Useless,* she had said to Kabeiros. *Even with much practice, there is a limit to how fast words can be spoken without slurring one into another. Too bad. If it were less unwieldy, that spell could be of value. If I had stopped that rabbit, you could have walked over and taken it at your leisure.*
*Don't you dare!* Kabeiros had responded. *You will deprive me of half the pleasure this life affords, and atop that make me feel like a murderer. It's one thing to pit the prey's speed and skill at dodging and hiding against my ability as a hunter. It's another to kill a poor paralyzed beast. I'd have to be very weak, sick, and hungry to be willing to take an animal in that condition.*
So the useless spell had been stored away in Hekate's capacious memory. She never forgot a spell no matter how worthless it seemed or how long it had gone unused. The spells must be intact and perfect because . . .
Hekate never got beyond that because. She remembered noticing that at the time she told Kabeiros the spell was useless, remembered resolving to think about why it was necessary to remember so many spells . . . but she had never done so. At that moment Kabeiros had shot away from the caravan and around the patch of brush in which Hekate had seen the rabbit disappear. The thought had slipped away while she waited for the dog to bring back his prey and never returned until just now.
Her brow furrowed. Why now? Why was she thinking of spells and magic while she was watching the movement of boats in the river? And then she stared more fixedly. It was a perfectly calm day. No breeze stirred the leaves of the trees along the road and most of the boats in the river were being propelled by oars. One ship, black and slender with a pointed prow painted with huge, staring eyes and a high stern, was speeding up the center of the river, against the current, its large sail bowed forward as if it were filled with a strong wind. Behind the sail, in the stern of the boat, Hekate could make out a man pointing a staff at the sail. She drew in her breath, her hand stroking her own staff. Kabeiros suddenly pressed against her and butted his head into her hand.
*You are looking at the ship, too, aren't you? That's strong magic . . . But Hekate, I don't smell it.* The mental voice sounded uncertain, shocked. *I don't sense any magic at all!*
*Neither do I,* Hekate admitted, her heart pounding in her throat.
*Be careful,* the hound warned. *Be very careful. I thought at first that no one would fault you for using magic here. I saw people openly hawking spells along the road as we passed—*
*Yes, but I thought they were worthless because I couldn't feel them.*
*And I agreed with you because I couldn't smell them. But it seems, instead, that their magic is invisible to us.*
There was a long pause, empty of mind touch. Man and dog had both withdrawn, blind eyes turned toward the river. Hekate watched too, fascinated, as the man in the stern of the ship lowered his staff. The sail sagged, sagged more. The staff tip touched the deck. The ship's forward motion slowed. Oars were lowered into the water. The helmsman, half hidden by the man with the staff, moved his arms. The ship turned toward the dock. Wet oars flashed in the sunlight according to some pattern the helmsman or the man with the staff decreed, and the ship was maneuvered toward the docks bordering Colchis.
*I wonder—* Kabeiros' mind voice continued *—if our magic is invisible to them? And if they cannot sense it, will they think that what is merely magic is a Gift?*
*Do you think that would be dangerous? That here, too, the Gifted are not welcome?*
Hekate could feel the dog's shoulder rise and fall against her thigh. *I hope not. If being Gifted is forbidden here, we have come a long way for no purpose.*
*Unless someone has a draining spell I could use against my father.*
Even as she said it, Hekate knew she was not ready yet to confront Perses, even if she had a draining spell. But that didn't matter. She would remember the spell perfectly because . . .
They were at the river. Now she would need to make her farewells to the caravan master. And, indeed, she could see him making his way along the line of pack animals, counting off nine, unhooking the lead rein of the tenth, and summoning a groom who came running to take the lead.
Meanwhile the head groom was leading the nine animals onto a wooden pier built out into the river. He untied the fourth animal from the first three and his assistant came to hold them while he induced the three he led onto a broad gangway connected to a large, flat-bottomed barge. He fastened the beasts to something on the deck and went back up the gangway to lead down another three. The groom who had taken the lead of the tenth animal, now led it down toward the dock. The barge was being untied from the dock. Several men distributed themselves at the stern and began to push with long poles while two men at the prow pulled on a thick, knotted line that led across the river.
By then the caravan master had reached Hekate. "My agreement with you ends when we cross the river," he said, "but I would gladly extend it. You have been useful—and despite being a woman, no trouble. I don't know what you did to my drovers, but I can tell you they didn't even talk among themselves about having you."
"I think it is more Kabeiros than me," she said, smiling. "You know he warns off any person he feels is unwelcome to me. Since your men fear and respect you too much to consider murdering me, and since they all knew I would never rest until every person that harmed Kabeiros was dead, they left me alone. Of course, I made it plain that I was not seeking any man. And I thank you for your offer, but I must stay in Colchis for some time."
The caravan master frowned. "I hope you know what you do. This is a very strange place. The goods I find here are so rare and precious, it is worth my risk to come, but I would not stay here for long."
Hekate shrugged. "I hope to find a master who will teach me magic that I don't know. And to tell you the truth—" she grinned at him "—I cannot think of anything that would induce me to go back over the mountains and deserts we have passed. If I must leave Colchis . . . I will take passage on a ship."
The caravan master stared at her, eyes round with horror. "But that is ten times more dangerous than the deserts or the mountains," he protested, shuddering. "You dislike the wastes and the heights so you will trust yourself to a few frail boards floating on a heaving ocean?"
"Ships are not so frail, or many traders would have no goods to carry over land." Hekate laughed. "Anyway, that is moons or even years in the future. For now, I must see if I can find a master."
"Well, if you will not listen to reason, will you at least take my advice about the city?"
"Indeed I will, and with gratitude," Hekate said.
"Very well." The caravan master sighed. "You had better come on the last barge with me. When we come off the barge, we will start toward the palace on Merchants Road, but do not tie your beast to the others. You will go only a short way with us. We will pass a large market that is bordered on its north side with a broad, paved road. I will point it out to you. That is Market Road. You will turn left onto that road and follow it a fairly long way until you come to a five-way crossroad all of paved roads. Do not go straight ahead as that is the Royal Way and is reserved for visitors to the palace and for the great nobles who live around the palace. The crossroad that is not the Royal Way—it is not so grand as the Royal Way, but very smooth and clean—is Sorcerers Road. I would suggest to you that you turn left into Sorcerers Road and walk down until you find an inn in which you can be comfortable."
"Why not turn right? Is that also noble territory?"
"Almost." The caravan master grimaced. "To the right are the sorcerers and magicians who are richest and most closely allied to the palace. I doubt you'll find a lodging or a teacher you can afford on that part of the road. Also, you should make sure you understand what is accepted, welcomed, or forbidden before you deal with those."
"Do you know of anyone I can go to for advice about magical matters?"
He pursed his lips. "I wouldn't say I know any of these people or trust them either, but I've dealt with an old man called Yehoraz. I use him to make sure the goods I buy are not enhanced by magic—or if they are that the magic will last, not fade and leave me with dross. He's a sullen sort, but I can't complain that he didn't do his work. I've had no complaints about the goods I sold."
"And are you willing to tell me where to find this man?"
"Why not?" He shrugged. "Everyone likes to be recommended by his customers, and Yehoraz sells his services just as I sell my goods. He may not be willing to deal with you if he thinks you'll be a rival, but that's between you and him. So, when you come to Sorcerers Road and turn left, you walk almost down to the docks. There are many inns by the docks and they're cheap, but I wouldn't lodge there. The nobles' bodyguards come down there to protect their masters' goods and they're a rough, arrogant lot. Kabeiros is a fine dog, but he wouldn't last long against ten soldiers."
"You may be sure I'll stay away from those docks," Hekate said. "I've no reason to go there. What of other places on the Sorcerers Road? Would they be safe?"
The caravan master shrugged. "I've never lodged there, but I don't think the sorcerers would favor the nobles' guards assaulting their clients so it should be safe. The trouble is that Yehoraz lives on the street I mentioned, Porters Way, and the porters and guards take that road to the Royal Way. Yehoraz's house is about midway up that street so you'll have to use it."
"I think I could manage not to be noticed going to Yehoraz's house, but for lodging?"
After thinking a moment and making a dissatisfied moue, he said, "It wouldn't be practical for you to lodge in the Merchant's Quarter. It's not far from Sorcerers Road as the crow flies, but the palace is in between and you can't cross the palace grounds or travel on the Royal Way." He snorted gently. "You should be able to find a place on Sorcerers Road north of the Porters Way. That should be safe."
All the while they were speaking, they had been moving closer to the pier. The barge had crossed once, returned, and taken a second load. It was midway back on its second trip, and the caravan master left Hekate to attend to the order in which the last two batches of animals would go.
While she waited for her turn to cross the river, Hekate looked about and saw that the city, or at least the commercial part of it, was spilling over onto the south bank of the river. There were mostly large docks for the barge-ferries and large, rather flimsy buildings meant to store goods that only needed a little protection from the weather. She noticed that guards lounged around the buildings, but only a few. Were there no thieves in Colchis, she wondered?
Behind and around the warehouses there were a few hovels. Maybe they were only shelter for the guards, but they might also be the lodgings of the poorest. One way to keep them out of sight. She glanced across the river. The city was very beautiful. She could see bands and squares of greenery, not mere gardens but large enough to be parks. And the palace . . . she couldn't make out any details from this distance, but the facades glittered reflections of the sunlight, evidence of highly polished stone or metal. Then she remembered what the caravan master had said about the nobles' guardsmen and looked again at the hovels behind the warehouses. It was also a good way for the powerless to be out of easy reach of those more powerful.
A grating sound drew her attention. The barge was being pulled close to the pier and the gangway was soon fixed into an opening in the rail that surrounded the deck. The caravan master led his animals onto the barge. Hekate with Kabeiros were the last on board. The barge was poled/pulled away from the pier, and Hekate's ass brayed pitifully as the deck moved under its feet. She went to soothe the animal and then shook her head slightly and left it to approach the caravan master.
"I have just bethought me," she said, "that if I stay in Colchis, and take a ship when I leave, I'll have no use for the ass and it will be expensive to keep in a city. You work your string of asses hard, but you feed them well and aren't cruel. She's a good animal. Will you buy her?"
"Yes, certainly—well, depending on the price."
They haggled for a while as the barge drew closer to the opposite shore. The poles had been abandoned as the river grew too deep, and all five men now pulled at the knotted line, singing some kind of rhythmic chant. Hekate felt no magic, but she couldn't help wondering if that chant did more than keep the men pulling at the same time.
When she and the caravan master reached agreement, Hekate had lost little on her original purchase price. She thought it fair enough, a low rental fee for the months she had used the animal. Having what he thought was a good price for an animal he knew to be in top condition, the caravan master was in a mood to be generous.
"You will need the ass to get your herbs and other things to your lodging," he said and proceeded to tell her how to get from Sorcerers Road to the quarter where the merchants lodged, warning her to go the long way down Market Road and up Merchants Road rather than try to cut the distance by going on the Royal Way. Then he nodded decisively. "It's just as well that you should know where to find me. I will be in Colchis for at least a moon. If anything happens to make you change your mind about staying here—and if you come to your senses about taking a ship—I will be glad to take you back to Satala."
"I thank you," Hekate said with sincere gratitude.
She was glad, however, when the barge bumped against the pier and she was able to go back to Kabeiros and the ass without more arguments about returning to Satala. She had nothing against Satala; the fields and hills surrounding the town had been very rich in valuable herbs and there had even been a small forest where she had found a wide variety of fungi. The people had treated her well and had paid her fairly for her medicines.
Nonetheless she could tell that if she were a permanent resident she would soon be in trouble. Curious questions were asked about her reluctance to allow a matchmaker to bring men to court her. Suspicious glances were cast at Kabeiros when it became plain that he lived in the house with her rather than being relegated to the outside yard. Worst of all the town was so small that every person in it soon knew her or of her and no doubt had opinions about her.
She knew already that Colchis would be different. It must be ten times the size of Satala. As she looked up the long street called Merchants Road she saw houses with openings, not only doors but windows, facing on the street. That was very strange. In Ur-Kabos and every other town large enough to have houses rather than huts, the walls facing the streets were blank, broken only by a passage that led to the door. All windows faced an inner court, partly to keep out the direct rays of the sun and partly to ensure that no one would see the women at work . . .
Women! There were women leaning out of several of the windows and gesturing at men leading asses up the road. Ah! That kind of women. So whoring was not forbidden by the authorities of the city. The thought of authority drew her attention to the dock, and her eyes widened again. It was of stone. This was a very rich city . . . or some way of doing very difficult work without hundreds or thousands of men had been employed. Magic?
Dismissing that question from her mind—she would learn the answer soon enough—Hekate watched the caravan master dealing with what was obviously an official and his scribe. She saw him gesture toward the group, and then to her dismay he beckoned to her. Reluctantly, but without any hesitation that would betray the reluctance, she went forward, telling Kabeiros to stay with the ass. She had hoped not to be singled out in any way and did not need the additional notoriety of an unusually large and handsome dog with weird eyes.
"The men will lodge with me in the Merchant's Quarter," the caravan master was saying in trade tongue as she drew near, "and they'll leave with me. This lady is a healer, who has come to study with your magic workers. Probably she'll stay in Colchis if she can find a teacher she likes."
To Hekate's intense surprise, the man only nodded at her and the scribe said, also in trade tongue, "If you stay more than three moons, you must pay the same head tax as any other resident in the city. If you buy a house, the tax collector will remind you. If you stay in lodgings, your landlord will tell you where to pay or will collect the money himself."
"I understand," Hekate said.
"Good luck in finding a teacher," the official said.
"Thank you."
Hekate bobbed her head in a sort of bow that wasn't really a bow and backed away toward Kabeiros and the ass. She was tempted to ask whether there was a list of sorcerers kept somewhere, but she didn't want to draw more attention to herself and she thought there probably wasn't or one of the efficient men would have mentioned it.
After that pleasant surprise, there were more. Having shown her Market Road and reminded her of the directions to the Merchant's Quarter, the caravan master left her with no more than a pleasant farewell. As she walked along it, Hekate noted that the market was very busy but also orderly and that men—and women—with large badges stood at the opening of each aisle to the road. No one gave her more than a single curious glance as she walked along, so Hekate stopped and in trade tongue asked one of the badged women how one obtained a space in the market. The chief warden, she was told, would arrange space for a fee. Hekate thanked her but did not ask about the fee. It was more important to find a place to stay than to arrange selling space in the market.
Lodging turned out to be easier than she had expected also. Mindful of the caravan master's warning, Hekate began to look for a place as soon as she turned onto Sorcerers Road. She was surprised again by the number of inns along the street and by the great variety of costumes she saw on the passersby. She barely stopped herself from staring rudely when a very small, slender woman with hair blacker than Hekate's own and golden skin, wearing a shimmering silk short coat and long straight pants walked by her.
As she glanced quickly at a man with truly black skin and hair like the wool of a sheep but a face of remarkable beauty, it occurred to her that if Colchis was a center for magic, people might come from far and wide. An exciting thought. Who would be more attracted to a city of sorcerers than other sorcerers? There was a chance to learn not only the "invisible" magic of Colchis but that of other lands.
Even if that didn't turn out to be the case, being surrounded by so many strange types was a most comfortable notion. She certainly wouldn't stand out. At worst she would be a stranger among strangers. Hekate again turned her attention to the inns along the street. The first had elaborate carvings around the door, an awning outside, and a carpet in the doorway. The windows on the second floor—no women hung out of those—were bordered by wooden shutters carved with trees that had fretted holes among the leaves and branches to admit air. Costly work. That inn was far too elegant for her purse, Hekate thought, and went on down the road.
Both houses and inns grew less imposing as she went southwest and she saw a few that might suit her, but the sun was still well up and she decided to look at everything before she made a choice. So she walked along until she saw something like a slow-moving maelstrom in the street which, as she drew closer, resolved itself into the meeting of Sorcerers Road and Porters Way.
Hekate drew back against the wall of a building to watch and saw that there were indeed armed men accompanying laden asses and porters and that the armed men pushed their way roughly past those already on the street, occasionally striking out at them. She grimaced and turned back, dismissing the last inn she had passed as too close to what might well become trouble.
About two hundred paces back along Sorcerers Road were two inns on opposites sides. One sat at the corner of an alleyway and the other was set behind a paved court that gave evidence animals were kept there. A fenced-off path, swept clean, led to the door Hekate entered, but she had not even got to ask the price when the landlord shouted at her to take Kabeiros outside. Animals were not welcome, nor asses in the stable, which was reserved for riding horses and mules.
*I could stay outside,* Kabeiros offered, sensing that Hekate had been impressed by the orderliness of the place.
*So could I,* Hekate snapped, walking out without a backward glance, *and so I will if I must.*
The inn on the other side of the road was marked on the door with a strange black figure, which Hekate finally decided was a black genie coming out of a bottle. The greeting she received from a portly woman seated between a tall rack of cups, mugs, and tankards was only slightly more welcoming. Soon as she entered, the woman asked if she were alone. Hekate's lips tightened, thinking a woman traveling alone wouldn't be welcome, but the woman added, "I've only the one small room left. It wouldn't be big enough for a couple, but for one person it would do."
"It must hold my dog also," Hekate said, gesturing to Kabeiros, who was pressed against her side. "He's valuable and I wouldn't like to leave him outside at night. Most days I'll be out myself, and Kabeiros with me."
The woman frowned and, when she saw Kabeiros' white eyes, sighed, believing he was Hekate's familiar. "He won't mess the place? I keep a clean house and a dog's soil stinks."
"Of course not!" Hekate responded indignantly, shuddering inwardly at the thought of how such talk must hurt Kabeiros.
"You'll clean it up if he does," the woman said in a threatening tone.
"I'll eat it if he does," Hekate snapped angrily, and then saw that Kabeiros was laughing and began to laugh too.
The woman grinned in response. "I guess it's safe," she said. "Then he's welcome. He's quiet. Better than those yapping and yowling lap things some witches cart around with them. For one night?"
Hekate realized it would be useless to deny she was a witch and said only, "Well, for the first night, but then if I liked the place and the price I would be staying longer. If the price were right, I might stay for several moons. I'm an herb-wife and I'm looking for a teacher of magic so I can call myself a full healer."
"You'd better look at the room before we begin to haggle price." The innkeeper—her remark about talking price identified her—looked toward a door in the back wall beyond the tun and shouted, "Rakefet, front."
No one came through the door immediately, but the inkeeper rose from her seat between the tun and the rack of drinking vessels. Now Hekate noticed behind and to the left was a large fireplace. Well worn but clean tables with long benches down the sides and stools at the ends filled the room that went back to where high windows let in light from the alley.
The Rakefet summoned hadn't appeared, but the innkeeper led Hekate toward a rough stair against the wall. The stairs creaked loudly but felt solid. As they went up, Hekate hid a grin. There would be little likelihood of either getting into one's chamber or out of it without the innkeeper's knowledge. Considering the woman's size and the corded muscles of her forearms, which were not padded with fat, Hekate doubted she missed any payments.
The room was at the very end of the corridor, the door facing the stair, and small was a miracle of understatement. Hekate wondered if the end of the passage had simply been walled off to provide another rentable space. A bed fitted from one wall to another on one side. A narrow window broke the wall right next to the headboard. On the other side of the window was a very small table on which stood a basin and pitcher. Under the bed was a chamberpot.
Hekate eyed the space between the table that supported the basin and pitcher and the wall. Perhaps there would be room for her herbs. Perhaps she could (very quietly) slip some pegs into wall cracks to hang other herbs. She looked at the bed. The mattress, though flat, seemed clean, with no spots of blood to imply six-legged indwellers that bit. The blanket, equally thin, also seemed clean.
*Will there be room for both of us on the bed, Kabeiros?*
The dog stared at the bed, but Hekate felt the eyes of the man upon her, felt a heat in the glance. She turned her head to meet that look, not down where the dog was but above her head height, but the man wasn't there.
*Not necessary.* The mind voice was blurred, as if dog and man were saying the same thing but with different intonations. *We have the bedrolls. We can spread those on the floor for me.*
*Or for me,* Hekate said. *Isn't it the woman who takes the lesser place?*
The man laughed. *Yes, but I think a dog in the bed and a woman on the floor would be too strange if the inkeeper or her servants should look in or need to wake you.* The mind voice was clear again.
"There isn't that much to see," the innkeeper said a little impatiently. "Will you take it or not?"
"I was trying to decide whether I could get all my herbs into the room," Hekate said. "I've got a loaded ass outside."
"I like animals," the woman said, grinning, "but no asses in the rooms. They aren't housebroken."
Hekate liked this woman. She laughed. "How much?"
"Three shekels of copper."
That price was so high that Hekate didn't even make a counteroffer. Disappointed in her poor judgement, she simply turned and walked out. The innkeeper followed her.
"Wait," she said. "If you only stay the one night and someone else wanted the room for a ten-day, I'd be out the whole ten-day. I wouldn't have charged you that for more than one night."
Hekate smiled. "Then I'll forgo the one-night trial. How about one shekel of copper for the whole ten-day?"
"All right, all right, I'm sorry I insulted you, but there's no need to insult the room."
"What room?" Hekate asked. "If you put a bed and a table in a closet, it's still a closet."
"Closets don't have windows," the innkeeper said firmly. "Three shekels of copper for the ten-day, but I'll throw in sheets for the bed, a towel, and even a bit of soap."
"I don't need the towel or the soap," Hekate countered. "I have my own. I'll show you the soap. Maybe you'll want to buy it for yourself. Two shekels."
"I'll look at your soap. Maybe I will buy it. Two and a half. And my name is Batshira. There's a stable around the back for the ass. It's not included in the price. You have to pay for feed—"
"You can call me Hekate. The ass is sold. She'll only be here for one night. I deliver her to the Merchant's Quarter tomorrow. Two shekels of soap for the feed."
"Done." As they went down the stair, the woman said, "I set a decent table. Most of the folk who rent rooms eat here also."
"You have the same kind of arrangement for trying the food? More for one meal than one pays for a ten-day of eating?"
The woman laughed, and the sound was echoed on a higher pitch by the girl who now sat between the rack of drinking vessels and the tun of beer. "Tried that on you, did she? No, I serve the meals and take the money. You'll pay the same as anyone else who sleeps here."
"No smart talk, Rakefet," Batshira said. "Go out and help this lady unload her ass and stable it or she'll be too late to eat altogether."
Two pair of hands for the unloading made a difference, but Hekate wished she had told Kabeiros not to help when she saw how Rakefet stared at him as he seized several bundles in his jaw and carried them up the stairs.
*Don't be too clever,* Hekate warned him, but it seemed his cleverness was not what attracted Rakefet's attention.
"How beautiful he is," she sighed to Hekate. "If only it were a bitch and I could have a puppy. We need a dog like him in the inn—we had two, but when . . ." She stopped abruptly and picked up two armfuls of the herb packages. "Oh, how nice they smell," she said, and went in and up the stairs.
Hekate looked after her thoughtfully. Possibly it wasn't because Batshira and Rakefet thought Kabeiros was a familiar that they looked at him so intently. When Kabeiros returned she said, *I wonder what happened to the two dogs Rakefet mentioned? I wonder if that's why Batshira didn't object when I said I'd keep you inside with me? I wonder if perhaps we aren't far enough from Porters Way. Could some of those armsmen have decided to make merry at the inns and the dogs tried to stop them?*
*A good reason for keeping me in at night,* Kabeiros agreed. *I'd have a better chance against them where I could get under tables.* He took another batch of small sacks and went in.
Although the idea made Hekate uncomfortable, there was no incursion of guards up Sorcerers Road that night. In fact it became very quiet after sunset. The dinner was good, plain, and not seasoned so highly that Hekate felt as if her throat and stomach would burst into flame. Although she pointed out the table where the long-term residents sat and said they were pleasant people, Batshira didn't urge Hekate to join them. She just nodded when Hekate said she was tired and would prefer to meet them one by one at breakfast time or later. Batshira shrugged. It wasn't required that they all sit together, she remarked.
Hekate thanked her and went up to her room as soon as she finished her meal. Kabeiros had eaten exactly the same food for which Hekate had paid a guest's price even though Rakefet offered to feed him free on scraps in the kitchen.
"I can't take the chance that it's tidbit-passion that keeps him with me," she said, hoping to divert Rakefet from the notion that Kabeiros was a familiar. "We go along together as friends and companions, not mistress and slave. He has to remember that."
She wasn't sure she had convinced Rakefet, but she found she didn't care much. Being a familiar was about equally more safe and more dangerous. No one would try to steal a familiar; on the other hand a fanatic might try to kill one. Still, Batshira and Rakefet seemed more interested than frightened and what Batshira had said implied that they were accustomed to witches' familiars.
In any case, they were safe once the door to their room was closed—at least from too great curiosity. Kabeiros sneezed and Hekate followed him a moment later. The odor of the herbs confined in that small space was overpowering. Hekate rushed—all of two steps—to open the window. Both had sneezed again, but in moments opening the window displayed an advantage of the tiny room Hekate hadn't thought of. Although the window was small, it let in enough air to cool the whole space very comfortably. And the scent of herbs diminished quickly until it was merely refreshing.
Sheets had appeared while they were eating. Hekate tucked them over the mattress, aware that they were rather harsh and stiff with recent washing, aware too of the way her arms ached and a great desire to just drop across the bed and close her eyes. She was more exhausted than she had realized, having been supported by excitement. She had to force herself to unroll the bedrolls for Kabeiros and to undress. Then, groaning with weariness she tumbled into bed.