If Crows Know Best (Mage of Merced Book 1) by Aimee Gross

Author:Aimee Gross [Gross, Aimee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-11-20T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

Come morning, Honni fed us eggs and sausage until I could not hold another morsel. Even Wieser had eggs for her breakfast. I told her not to get used to it, but she was too busy gulping them and wagging to have heard, I’d wager.

We were alone with Guthy at the big table, and I asked after the six old fellows from last night, thinking they must be sleeping in after the excitement. “Do they all board here with you?”

“Half of them shelter with Guthy, the others have rooms nearby. They’re all down at the wharves by dawn each day. They watch what ships come and depart, see the cargo loaded and unloaded. Talk to the crews and their old mates. Keeps them feeling in the sea-going life, somewhat.”

Did they, indeed. That sparked a thought. They wanted to be able to do something about the invasion, but being too old to fight thought they were useless. It could be there was a use for their eyes and ears, yet. They knew what they were seeing on the waterfront better than any.

I reminded Virda that we needed to take the pelts and seek to trade them for tools. My real intent, however, was to be at the doorway midmorning where I might meet up with the young soldier. I had not decided what I might ask of him, and continued to ponder while we made ready to set out.

Honni rushed us at the door, pushed a paper parcel into my hands, blurted, “Molasses cakes,” and fled back to the kitchen, face flaming. I opened my mouth, but she disappeared before I could speak. Virda chuckled as she wound her scarf across her shoulders and tucked it in.

“What has possessed her?” I wondered aloud when we crossed into the bright spring sunshine.

“Why, anyone can see she is sweet on you,” Virda said.

I stopped in my tracks, and was bumped from behind by a lady leading a goat. More of the tide of folk split to go around us, when Virda stopped as well.

“Sweet on me? What can I have done to deserve that?”

“You showed such courage with the soldiers, and you were kind to her when she worried about her da and brothers. And you talked to her about living with Guthy, and all.” Virda probably thought that sounded reasonable, but it didn’t to my ears.

“She’s maybe eight years old, Virda!”

“No, Guthy told me she is nearly your age.”

“What are you and Guthy talking about our ages for?” I said, exasperated. “You might as well say Morie was sweet on Ticker the smithy’s son.”

“No need to make such a to-do. Enjoy your cakes. Let’s press on.”

“It seems to me women run mad about half the time,” I told Wieser, as we fell into step in Virda’s wake.

Virda took us to the fur traders first, as I thought to get money before trying to scare up some woodworking tools. I would be limited to planes and drills small enough to carry home, could such even be found.

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