Dragon in a Dream, page 17 ---"Do you speak at all?"--- +Lady_Blaze+

Dawn crept in, a kitten of quiet step, nuzzling my cheeks with warmth and spreading lazily into my room. I relished the feeling for more than an hour; a lethargy brewed in my bones and I was loath to move. But eventually, persuaded by the thought of breakfast, I hauled myself upright to stand and begin stretching my aching muscles. It felt sinfully good to do so, the pain relieving in its familiarity.

Fifteen minutes later and after a delicious plate of pancakes smothered in butter and syrup coupled with a mug of cold water, I was out on the streets of the Gem once again, determined to locate Almond Row and deliver my package, no matter how late it would arrive. I had left my pack and its contents at the Weeping Willow knowing they would be safe, carrying only two weapons and the Rhymester's gift.

If I had once thought that the Gem was busy during the afternoon, it was nothing compared to the morning activities. Merchants bickered fiercely as the sun touched their faces and wares with a golden sheen, and carts laden with goods trundled on either side of the wide streets, their sellers yelling hoarsely. Children of all ages darted in between clumps of people, occasionally being caught by the long-reaching arm of a parent.

I walked casually through the masses, on the lookout for someone who might know the whereabouts of Almond Row. My eyes caught on a man with a rather important air examining the goods of a merchant with a blue right eye and a green left eye. He wore clothing befitting that of a higher rank than the townspeople, of a finer weave, and a small ornate dagger hung from his belt. His light hair was cut very short, and the shadow of a mustache glinted on his upper lip.

I touched his shoulder gently, knowing by his stance he had already observed me moving his way. He turned and looked me up and down. It was not a look of sexual appraisal, but one measuring every apparent - and unapparent - aspect of myself and weighing it. He seemed to be satisfied with what he saw, for he waited for me to speak with genial eyes.

"Greetings, sir. I am in need of assistance...perhaps you could help me," I said.

A smile, crooked but genuine, graced his face, and he nodded once, then again waited with an inquiring gaze.

"I would like directions to Almond Row."

A surprised look crossed his face, but he recovered almost at once. Glancing down at the merchant he made a dismissing movement with his hand and beckoned with a grin for me to follow him.

He seemed to melt into the crowd, and I was hard pressed to keep his bobbing head in view. I was assuming he was leading me to the right place, though in my mind I knew that I should not be so trusting. Wending his way across a square, through an archway, down an alley through another square, up a narrow street and across a wide one, the man patiently waited for me to catch up, and then we were off again.

I had given up all sense of direction when we arrived at an archway, twined with stone ivy, titled Almond Row. I thanked the man for his trouble and entered the row, bewildered when he continued walking beside me.

"Do you live here?" I ventured, dubiously comparing the homely domed roofs of the mud brick houses to his dress. He nodded once, keeping pace with my strides.

"Would you know an old man named Rainyn, by any chance?"

He nodded again, his dark eyes sparkling with merriment. I hesitated a step, then stopped and asked him directly. "Do you speak at all?" I hoped it did not sound so condescending him as it did me. He merely shrugged and took my hand to tug me onward. Again, I supposed he was taking me to the correct place. Somehow I felt secure in this, though I had just met the man.

The urge to jerk my hand from his died as suddenly as a whisper, and I followed docilely, only taking a brief moment to wonder why.

Show all stories by   Author:  56840 ( Click here )