Sing the Four Quarters (Daw Book Collectors) by Tanya Huff

Author:Tanya Huff [Huff, Tanya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fantasy fiction, Science Fiction, General, Fiction, Fantastic fiction, Canadian fiction
ISBN: 9780886776282
Publisher: DAW
Published: 1994-12-01T12:44:41+00:00

Although he never actually lost sight of her, by the time she returned a few moments later he'd worked an edge up on his temper. "You walk off on me again like that," he snarled, "and I won't be there when you get back."

Annice shot a glance at the basket seller. Deep in a spirited defense of his bottom-weave with a less than satisfied customer, he wasn't likely to overhear anything she said. Shoving her hair back off her face, she glared up at Pjerin.

"Maybe you won't be. The fishmonger said a troop of King's Guard rode into Vidor about mid-morning."

Pjerin's fingers closed around the upper edge of Annice's pack with enough force to buckle the frame. "They must've been right behind us. We should've kept going!"

"No!" She took a step forward and winced as the baby objected to her vehemence by drumming its heels on her bladder. "They're looking for the escaped Due of Ohrid and we've spent the day convincing the city we're traders. I'm telling you, we're safe."

"Fine." His smile was tight. "Tell that to the six guards who've just come into the market."

"What?" She whirled around, careening off the surrounding stacks of baskets. Ignoring the muffled yell of protest from the basket seller, out of sight behind his dangerously swaying stock, she could see no farther than a cluster of people grouped around the egg seller's stall.

From his advantage of height, Pjerin had no difficulty following their progress. "Someone just sent the corporal to the fishmonger's."

Annice heaved her bulk up onto her toes. She thought she might be able to see the sun glinting off the upper edge of a helm, but she wasn't certain.

"Let's get out of here." Enough was enough, Pjerin reached forward and grabbed her shoulder. "Now!"

She shook him off. "The fishmonger never saw you."

"Then why is he pointing this way?"

Eyes wide, she turned to stare up into his face. "Are you sure?"

"No! I'm kidding! Center it, Annice! How could I be unsure about something like that!" This time when he grabbed her shoulder, he actually managed to get her moving. "I'll carry your pack, just go!"

Too late.

"There they are!"

The crowd, in the way of crowds, parted and Pjerin found himself staring down a wide and unobstructed aisle at the corporal. She was young, with a wide mouth and legs too long for her body. He could take her down, get her sword, sell his freedom dearly. They weren't taking him back to Elbasan. They'd have to kill him first.

A cascade of baskets broke the tableau.

And the crowd, in the way of crowds, closed in to see what was going on.

"This way!" Annice grabbed his arm and dragged him to the right. "There's an alley!"

Over the shrill shrieks of the basket seller and the swarm of rising speculation, they could hear the corporal demanding that they stop in the king's name. Although Annice was running as fast as she could, even laden with both packs, Pjerin reached the mouth of the alley first.

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