“I know, Jala, but we can’t very well march without supplies either,” Jail returned with an exasperated sigh as he crossed his arms on her saddle and leaned against her horse looking up at her. “So what do you want to do? I don’t think we have much time before he gives the orders to turn back.”
“Do you know where the biggest merchant in town is?” Jala asked, her gaze returning to the city once more. She wasn’t even sure if Brannaford had enough supplies for an army the size of theirs but she had to try. The real problem was money. She had gold in the bank in Sanctuary, but everything she had brought with her from the city had gone to Kithvaryn to pay for his contract. If the merchants would accept a promissory note with her seal there was no problem, but she wasn’t sure if a town as small as Sanctuary had any merchants that would be willing to do that.
“Not offhand but I can find out easily enough,” Jail said with a shrug.
“Do so,” Jala ordered and sat forward in her saddle once more. Taking her reins up once more she turned her horse and rode back to Wisp who sat with Legacy and Sovann in the grass near the road. “I’m going into the city. Keep Legacy with you, please. There is a bit of a problem with supplies and I’m going to see what I can do to fix it,” Jala told them, waiting just long enough for Wisp to nod before turning her horse once more toward the city.
The sound of hoof beats behind her caused her to glance back and she nearly fell off her horse in shock as she recognized Valor among the small escort that followed her. She had expected her father to come as well as Ash, but Valor was a complete shock. She slowed her horse and allowed the other three to catch up and turned toward Valor with a questioning look. Which he, of course, couldn’t see, she realized with a heavy sigh.
“I really hate that damned veil,” Valor muttered in a perfect echo of her father’s earlier words.
“Pretty pointless isn’t it,” Badger agreed with a firm nod. “Only the damned spooks would be stupid enough to marry a beautiful woman and cover her up from head to toe,” he added and then seemed to realize Ash rode on the other side of him. Coughing lightly Badger grinned sheepishly and shrugged toward Ash. “Present company excluded from that remark of course.”
“No insult taken. I find the veil ridiculous as well. The only reason Jexon forces her to wear it is to lower her self-esteem and irritate her friends,” Ash said calmly.
Tipton’s Warehouse on Saltshore Avenue. That is the answer I’m getting from just about everyone I scan on the biggest merchant. If I’m not mistaken, though, I think that is the one Neph threatened, Jail informed her through a link, and she immediately turned her horse toward the dock district. If she was lucky she might manage to reach the warehouse before Jexon realized she was in the city.
Fortune, it seemed, still showed her a bit of favor and there was no sign of her husband or any of his officers on their way to the merchant. Pulling her horse to a stop, Jala dismounted in front of the shabby warehouse and looked up at it with doubt. The paint was peeling from the walls and most of the boards looked to be rotting. With a sigh, she tossed her reins to her father and headed up the rickety stairs to the door. She paused before opening the door to read the badly faded black lettering that proclaimed the place as
ip on’s Merca ile
Had Jail not insisted that this was the place, she wouldn’t have believed it was still in business, by the looks of it. With a shrug back to her friends she opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit interior of the shop.
A square built man of middle years sat behind the counter with ledger books spread out before him. He looked up sharply at the sound of the door and his face transformed from grim concentration to a smile in a breath. “Ahh, Lady. Welcome,” he said in an overly chipper voice, though it was obvious from the look in his eyes that he wasn’t sure what to think of her garb.
“Good afternoon,” Jala began as she slowly walked toward the counter, her eyes roving over the stacks of rope and various other supplies that lined the walls. By the manner of goods he carried it was clear that Tipton was more accustomed to provisioning ships than armies, but there was a possibility that he might be able to handle her order.
“Local girl, eh? I wasn’t sure with all of that covering you, but that’s definitely a Greenwild accent,” Tipton said with a grin, his eyes locked on the fine weave of her veil. Silk was rare in the Greenwild and any who could afford it were wealthier than most in Brannaford.
“Actually Merro, though I was raised near here,” Jala said quietly and she watched the man’s expression change at once.
“You tell that bastard Neph that I will have no trade with Merro. I don’t give a rats ass who they got playing High Lady down there I’m not buying it and I won’t be selling nothing to anyone from there. Figures he would try to send a local girl in here hoping he could get a better deal. After the way that bastard acted the last time he was here I woulda thought he would have had more sense than to come back.” The volume of his voice rose with each word in his tirade and Jala was nearly covering her ears by the time he finished.
Slowly, Jala reached up and pulled her veil free, revealing her face and hair. With her other free hand she unclasped the pin that was holding her curls in place and shook her head letting them fall free before locking her gaze once more on the merchant. “Actually, I am High Lady Merrodin,” Jala said softly, allowing the man to stare blankly at her face and eyes. There was no mistaking her for anything other than Elder Blood and she knew it. Her days in Sanctuary had taught her that much. “I apologize for any offense that Neph may have given in my absence. He is Delvay and they are different from us in their manners.”