“Four hardtack and two strips of jerky.” Tobin began. “I’ve got two kopins to cover it.”
The provisioner snorted in derision. “Three. Take it or leave it. I don’t see a whole lot of other stands around. Do you?”
Eventually, after some haggling, Tobin managed to reduce the price to two and a half kopins. In the end he had procured just enough jerky and hard tack to get them to Kayradan, with only a few silver coins left to clink together in his pouch.
The sun was almost hidden when he sat down at the campfire in the center of the ring of wagons. Contemplating, he watched the fire’s steady flicker. He was tired, his head hurt, and he was ready to strangle Ponce for his foolishness.
“An ale, good sir?” The wench’s face was a bit careworn, as if life on the road had aged her more quickly, but she still had the body of a dancer. Her curves were easy on the eyes, and her voice was husky. Her clothing was somewhat exotic, that of a high-rope walker or trick rider. She approached Tobin, proffering the flagon.
“I appreciate the offer, but I have nothing to pay you with. My foolhardy friend lost his clothes in Kayshire Wood, and we barely have enough traveling money to get to Kayradan before the tourney.”
“My troupe is bound for Kayradan, too. Maybe we’ll bump into each other there. And don’t worry about the ale. It’s on me.”
“You’re too kind by half, Miss…”
“Call me Solitaire. Not the name I was born with, but it does me fine.”
“Solitaire, then. A pretty name for a pretty wench. I’m Tobin, and I’ve been the length and breadth of this country, but I hail from Beegurd. My idiot friend is Ponce. We’re wandering minstrels.”
She smiled sweetly. “Are you any good?”
“The best.” He downed the ale thirstily.
“Well. As you can’t pay the ale with coin, perhaps you can sing a song for me?”
“Like a gods-damned lark.” He picked up his lute and launched into one of the most delightful ballads in his repertoire. Solitaire listened, enthralled.
The sun had disappeared by the time he finished the heart-wrenching ballad. “Stunning, Tobin. Absolutely beautiful, the ending. Have no fear; when you arrive at Kayradan, you’ll quickly recover from your bad fortune and turn a tidy profit.”
“I suppose so. I should get some sleep; we have to rise with the sun if we’re to reach Crossroads tomorrow.”
“You’ll sleep out here under the stars?”
“That was the plan”
“It’s warmer inside my wagon. You could share my blanket. I could keep you warm.”
“I wouldn’t be able to offer you anything in return, Solitaire.”
“No need. Or if you must, pay with another song.” With practiced ease, she shrugged her shoulders a bit, and the top of her tight-fitting costume slid down, exposing her perfect, pink nipples. “Here are two very good reasons why you should stay with me in my caravan. It shouldn’t take so much effort to convince you. You’re a man. I’m a woman, and the rest can sort itself out.”
“When you put it that way, how can I say no?”
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