“Down there,” Brook said, pointing towards the town. “They’ll let you in if I speak to the guards.”
The town didn’t look much better in the morning light, Emily noted. A faint stench of manure hung in the air as they approached, reminding her that towns were hardly the cleanest places in the world. Farmers were already bringing their wares to market: she saw an elderly man leading a line of pigs, following a younger woman who was carrying two large baskets of vegetables. The guards let them pass without bothering to do more than glance at their faces. They paid Jade and Cat a little more attention.
Brook jumped down and spoke, briefly, to the guards. Emily couldn’t hear what she said, but it must have been convincing. The guards waved the wagon through without bothering to search it. Brook trotted alongside them, pointing down to a small cluster of carts and wagons outside a smaller inn. Emily suspected it belonged to the local merchant’s guild. It wasn’t well-placed to take advantage of people passing through the town.
And the guards probably don’t help, she mused, as Jade pulled the wagon to a stop. Anyone who might want to stay the night gets ordered to the inn outside the walls.
“Stay here,” Jade ordered.
Emily glanced at Cat, then watched as Jade scrambled down and followed Brook as she walked towards the convoy. A large man wearing a set of guild robes greeted Brook, speaking to her as though she was a favored child. Emily wondered at their relationship, then decided it wasn’t too surprising. Personal relationships meant a lot in a world where contract law was largely ineffectual. Brook’s mother would have worked hard to ensure that her guests and suppliers saw her as trustworthy.
“Only four visible guards,” Cat muttered. “That might not be a good thing.”
“They’ll have more, perhaps,” Emily muttered back. “And the merchants themselves will have swords, won’t they?”
“They may not know how to use them,” Cat said. “And they may be harassed merely for carrying swords.”
Emily nodded. Freemen had the right to bear arms–it was what separated them from serfs and slaves–but they weren’t always allowed to make use of it. Proper training was almost always lacking, giving the upper classes a decisive advantage. That was going to change, she knew, as more and more gunpowder weapons entered the mainstream. A man needed years to master a sword, but only minutes to master a firearm. And then the face of warfare would change forever.
Jade walked back to them, slowly. “We’re being allowed to accompany them as far as Chatham,” he said. “After that, we’re on our own.”
“That’s good,” Emily said. Chatham was a merchant town, a free city upriver from the capital. She’d never been there, but she’d heard good things about it. “Chatham isn’t far from Alexis.”
“No, it isn’t,” Jade said. “We should get some answers there before we proceed to the city itself.”
Cat had a more practical concern. “Any rules we should know about?”
“They don’t want us buying and selling on the way,” Jade said. His lips quirked. “What do we have to sell?”
“Our expertise,” Cat said. “Anything else?”
“Not really.” Jade scrambled up into the wagon and lowered his voice. “They will expect us to help with setting up camp and Emily to help with the cooking.”
Emily nodded, unsurprised. Cooking was women’s work, as far as the vast majority of the population was concerned. Caleb had cooked for her, but he’d been in the minority. The only other men who actually cooked worked in restaurants, which somehow didn’t count as female work. The logic behind the reasoning escaped her. Perhaps it had something to do with working for money instead of cooking for one’s husband.
“I can cope.” She smiled, rather thinly. “As long as they can cope with my cooking…”
“I told them you were an army cook with a great record,” Jade said, deadpan. “You only killed ten men.”
“Great,” Cat said. “They won’t let you anywhere near the food.”
“As long as they don’t expect me to sew,” Emily said. She’d never learnt to sew on Earth, a skill she’d never realized she lacked until she discovered it was useful for Subtle Magic. But it was definitely not one of her talents. “I’m not good at sewing.”
“They won’t expect you to be.” Jade turned and jumped back down to the ground, then turned to beckon them down. “Let’s go meet our new friends.”
Emily had seen a convoy before–Lady Barb had insisted on traveling with the Diddakoi, four years ago–but the merchant convoy was different. Men and women seemed to be almost equal, laughing and chatting together as they prepared to depart. There was something oddly healthy and warm about the scene, a bunch of people united by a common goal instead of being pushed together by fate. They seemed to be different too, from the handful of genuine merchants to the travelers who clearly believed it was better to travel in a large group. A handful of young children ran around, shouting and laughing while their older peers helped their parents. She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy. Why couldn’t she have had an upbringing like that?
Brook caught her arm. “Thank you, once again,” she said, very quietly. “I hope you get where you’re going.”
“You’re welcome,” Emily said, automatically. “Thank your mother for us, please.”
The younger girl eyed her for a long moment. “I’ve often wanted to run away,” she said, lowering her voice still further. “Is being a mercenary as exciting as they say?”
Emily hesitated. She understood the urge, but…Brook had no conception of just how bad it could be in a mercenary camp. There was no way she could pretend to be a young man when privacy was completely non-existent. Someone would notice and then…and then what? If she’d won respect, her secret might be kept; if she hadn’t, someone would blab…
“It can be,” she said, finally. “But you remember the guy who wanted to hurt you? There are a lot of men like that in mercenary camps. And if you meet one, you will be in trouble.”
“Emily,” Jade called. “It’s time to go!”
“Coming,” Emily called back. She looked at Brook. “Good luck with your life.”
“Thank you,” Brook said. “And may all the gods accompany you on your way.”
Chapter Six
TRAVELING IN A MERCHANT CONVOY WOULD’VE been much more enjoyable had they not been concerned about getting to Alexis as fast as they could
The merchants were surprisingly friendly, always willing to chat and share stories of life on the road. Rumors were swapped freely, then dissected for what scraps of truth could be extracted from their bodyguard of lies. The travelers were slightly less talkative, at first, but as the days wore on they shed their reluctance and started to chat as well. Emily couldn’t help feeling guilty, as life stories were shared, about the lies she was telling. She could make them convincing, but she knew they were lies. The fact that no one could call her on them didn’t make her feel any better.