Laughing as he disentangled himself, Declan said, ‘It’s been years since I was an apprentice, Roz.’
Smacking his arse, she said, ‘I wasn’t talking about you, fool. I meant Jusan. He’s turning into a lovely young man.’
Declan laughed again as he moved to the rear of the wagon. It was a converted dray Declan had worked on a few times. The sides and rear boards could be removed if Rozalee needed to lash down large crates or other cargo, as they could be held in place by the iron bolts Edvalt had fashioned for it years ago. With the sides and rear boards attached, a variety of goods could be transported.
Rozalee untied a series of ropes threaded through the iron eyelets set in the heavy oiled canvas on top of the wagon. With a nimble leap she mounted the cart and rolled back the covering. Declan admired the way she moved.
No one would call Rozalee pretty – she was somewhat long-faced and her unremarkable light brown hair was now turning grey – but she possessed a confidence that attracted men like honey drew bears, and she was open about her appreciation of the attention.
She handed down the first crate to Declan, who put it next to the doorway. From the aroma it contained some variety of fresh fruit. Besides the berries found in the hills, fruit was rare in Oncon and Marius charged a lot for it. Edvalt’s wife, Mila, had been threatening to plant fruit trees behind their home for years but never had; everyone knew that this close to the sea, there was too much salt in the soil to grow anything but the heartiest of plants.
When they had unloaded three more cases, Rozalee said, ‘That’s the last of the fruit, I think until next spring.’ She handed Declan a large crate of meat and said, ‘Freshly butchered, but needs to go into the cold cellar now.’
Declan nodded and lifted the heavy crate onto his shoulder. Mutton and chicken were usually available in the village, and pork after piglets were weaned, but beef had to be shipped in: another rarity that Marius charged well for.
Declan entered the inn to find Marius conspicuously absent – the tavern keeper avoided heavy lifting as much as possible – then he moved through the small common room to the rear yard. The only structure in the ill-kept yard was a ramshackle run-in shed rarely used for horses; the few that did end up in Oncon were usually stabled at Edvalt’s place. To the left of the inn door, steps led down to the cold cellar located deep under the building. Once again Declan felt annoyed that Marius was too stingy to have built a staircase inside the inn, but quickly dismissed the feeling: it was like being upset with the tide for rising in the afternoon; it was simply the man’s nature.
Declan set down the crate and opened the unlatched wooden door, admitting just enough light so he could see. He carried the crate down the steps into the underground cellar, found a cool back corner for the meat, and set the crate down. A quick glance around told him Marius wasn’t stocking much that wasn’t local. He moved a crate of withering vegetables near the door so it would be used before turning completely. Marius wasted nothing, so Declan knew the tavern stew should be avoided for the next two or three days.
He returned to the wagon and carried several more crates down to the cold cellar, then, when he was finished, Declan found Rozalee tossing the canvas into the wagon bed. As she raised the tailgate and locked it down, she said, ‘You heading back to the smithy?’
‘I’m finishing my ale and have one for you. Marius is buying.’
‘Then I’m drinking,’ Rozalee said with a chuckle. She climbed up to the driver’s seat and turned the mules around. The animals had been to Oncon village numerous times and knew that they were only a short journey from being unhitched from their traces, watered, and fed, so the often-recalcitrant animals were eager to please as she drove off.
Declan nursed his ale until Rozalee came back. He fetched two fresh mugs of ale from Marius, who passed them over the bar with a scowl but said nothing.
Once he was seated opposite Rozalee, he asked, ‘What news?’
After taking a long pull of the ale, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and said, ‘The usual. War in the east; Sandura is moving against a couple of the free lords who have done something to displease Lodavico. And rumours of bandits, emboldened by the turmoil, raiding in the Covenant.’
Declan nodded. ‘You’re not the first to warn us. Though, there’s not much booty in the Covenant, so I don’t see the reason.’
‘Food, rape, a few trinkets, and little risk …’ She paused, then said, ‘Consider the men who would be tempted by that.’
Declan shrugged. ‘You’re widely travelled, you’ve seen much. I only know what I’ve experienced here. Still, you hear things. The king of Sandura can dare much in his little wars, but the first ruler to move on the Narrows will find three other kings and most of the free barons opposing him.’ He tried not to grin but couldn’t help himself.
Rozalee’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve been in a bit of an odd mood since I got here. I’ve not heard you use this tone before. What has happened?’
Declan tried not to smile. ‘I finished my masterpiece. Edvalt gave me a master’s rank.’
Rozalee stood and leaned across the table, grabbing Declan’s face between her hands, and gave him a deep kiss. Sitting down, she slapped her hand on the table and said, ‘I am going to fuck you tonight. Jusan can wait until my next visit.’
Declan didn’t know what to do other than laugh. Like several of the young men in the region, he had lost his virginity to Rozalee. It had been a rite of passage, and Rozalee was generous in her gifts but not profligate. She had rebuffed more advances than she had accepted; when she chose a young man, it was considered a mark of honour.
Declan stopped laughing and said, ‘You are serious.’
She nodded. ‘You’re a good man, Declan. And truth to tell, I’ve missed you lately.’
Feeling emboldened by the drink, he said, ‘I’ve never asked, well, because stories precede you, but … your husband, doesn’t he care about … this?’ He made a small hand motion between himself and Rozalee.
She replied, ‘My husband, if you must know, was an old man when he took me for his wife and I had barely matured enough to bear children. That was twenty-five years ago. Now he’s content to nod off after a massive midday meal and several cups of wine. His cock might rise occasionally and require the attention of one of the town girls, but many are willing because he has wealth and is generous.’ She leaned forward and whispered, ‘To keep them from telling anyone he lasts but a minute, then falls back to sleep.’
Rozalee looked sad. ‘It was never a meaningful union. We never had children.’ Then she brightened. ‘But I have been given the freedom to travel, as he hates to leave home; conduct our business, as he has no head for it; and do as I please with whomever I please.’ She squeezed his hand and stared into his eyes and said, ‘What troubles you?’
Declan said, ‘Do I stay, or go?’
‘Now the town has two master smiths, and needs but one.’
‘The truth is it needs only a journeyman, which will be Jusan in a few more years, and while he’s not brilliant, he is good enough. We rarely receive commissions for arms or weapons, so much of what Edvalt has taught is …’ He shrugged. ‘I liked learning the craft of armoury, but the art of making steel …’ He sighed. ‘It’s a difficult skill, and has little value when most who come to the smith need only a plough blade mended or a wagon rim replaced …’ He shrugged again, letting his sentences finish themselves. ‘It’s the craft of it that I like.’ He let his gaze wander past her, as if trying to peer into the future.
‘To go, or to stay,’ she echoed. Again putting her hand on his, she said, ‘Have you taken to a particular girl here?’
Declan laughed. ‘I have not. Most