Forest Mage. Робин Хобб

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Forest Mage - Робин Хобб


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my ears. Yet strangely, I suddenly felt that I was in full control of this encounter. I cannot explain how pleasing that sensation was; it was rather like holding an excellent hand of cards when everyone else at the table assumes you are bluffing. I smiled at him. ‘You’d be wise to be thankful for this warning from me. The opportunity will not come again.’ I’d never felt so dangerous in my life.

      He seemed to sense how I dismissed his bluster. His face flushed an ugly scarlet. ‘Make way!’ he demanded through gritted teeth.

      ‘Of course,’ I acceded. I not only stepped back, but also offered him my hand as if to assist him. ‘Be careful!’ I warned him. ‘The stairs are steeper than they appear. Watch your footing. It would be a shame if you stumbled.’

      ‘Do not speak to me!’ he all but shouted. He tried to cuff my hand out of the way. Instead, I caught his elbow, gripped it firmly and assisted him up the first step. I felt the iron of my strength as I did so; I think he did, too. ‘Let go!’ he snarled at me.

      ‘So glad to help you,’ I replied sweetly as I released him. I stepped back two steps, and then gestured to his companions that they should follow him. The girl rushed past me and up the steps, with her companion a stride behind her. He shot me a look of alarm as he passed, as if he thought I might suddenly attack him.

      I was walking away when I heard a shout above me, and then a man’s roar of pain. One of them must have slipped in his panic. The woman mewed sympathetically at whichever man had fallen. I could not make out his words, for they were choked with pain. I chuckled as I walked away. I was to dine at the captain’s table that evening, and I suddenly found that I anticipated the meal with a heartier than usual appetite.

      The next morning, as I enjoyed a good breakfast, I overheard gossip at our table that a young man had slipped and fallen on the stairs. ‘A very bad break,’ an old woman with a flowered fan exclaimed to the lady beside her. ‘The bone poked right out of his flesh! Can you imagine! Just from a missed step on the stair!’

      I felt unreasonably guilty when I heard the extent of the young man’s injuries, but decided that he had brought them on himself. Doubtless he’d missed a riser; if he hadn’t mocked me, he would not have felt obliged to use such haste in fleeing from me.

      When next I caught sight of their small party in the late afternoon, the young man I had ‘assisted’ on the stairs was absent. When one of the women caught sight of me, I saw her give a gasp of dismay and immediately turn and walk off in the other direction. Her friend and their remaining male companion followed her just as hastily. For the rest of the voyage they assiduously avoided me, and I overheard no more remarks or giggling. Yet it was not the relief that I had hoped it would be. Instead, a tiny niggle of guilt remained with me, as if my bad wishes for the fellow had caused his fall. I did not enjoy the women being fearful of me any more than I had enjoyed their derision. Both things seemed to make me someone other than who I truly was.

      I was almost relieved when our jank reached the docks at Sorton and I disembarked. Sirlofty was restive after his days below decks, and displeased at once more having to wear his panniers. As I led him down the ramp to the street, I was glad to be on solid land again and dependent on no one but myself. I wended my way deeper into the crowded streets and out of sight of the jankship.

      Along with my ticket and travelling money, there had been a letter from my father that precisely detailed how my journey should proceed. He had measured my journey against his cavalla maps, and had decided where I should stay every night and how much distance I must cover each day in order to arrive in time for Rosse’s wedding. His meticulous itinerary directed me to spend the night in Sorton, but I abruptly decided that I would push on and perhaps gain some time. That was a poor decision, for when night fell, I was still on the road, hours short of the small town my father had decreed was my next stop. In this settled country of farms and smallholdings, I could not simply camp beside the road as I would have in the Midlands. Instead, when the night became too dark for travelling, I begged a night’s lodging at a farmhouse. The farmer seemed a kindly man, and would not hear of me sleeping in the barn near Sirlofty, but offered me space on the kitchen floor near the fire.

      I offered to pay for a meal as well, so he rousted out a kitchen girl. I expected to get the cold leavings of whatever they’d had earlier, but she chatted to me merrily as she heated up a nice slice of mutton in some broth. She warmed some tubers with it, and set it out for me with bread and butter and a large mug of buttermilk. When I thanked her, she answered ‘It’s a pleasure to cook for a man who obviously enjoys his food. It shows a man has a hearty appetite for all of life’s pleasures.’

      I did not take her words as a criticism for she herself was a buxom girl with very generous hips. ‘A good meal and a pleasant companion can stir any man’s appetite,’ I told her. She dimpled a smile at me, seeming to take that as flirtation. Boldly, she sat down at the table while I ate, and told me I was very wise to have stopped there for the night, for there had been rumours of highwaymen of late. It seemed plain to me that she had gone far beyond her master’s orders, and after I watched her clear up my dishes, I offered her a small silver piece with my thanks for her kindness. She smilingly brought me two blankets and swept the area in front of the hearth before she made up my bed for me.

      I was startled into full wakefulness about an hour after I had drowsed off when I felt someone lift the corner of my blanket and slide in beside me. I am shamed to say that I thought first of my purse with my travelling money in it, and I gripped it with my hand beneath my shirt. She paid no mind to that but nudged up against me, sweet as a kitten seeking warmth. I was quickly aware that she wore only a very thin nightdress.

      ‘What is it?’ I demanded of her, rather stupidly.

      She giggled softly. ‘Why, sir, I don’t know. Let me feel it and see if I can tell you!’ And with no more than that, she slipped her hand down between us, and when she found that she had already roused me, gripped me firmly.

      I was no more prudish than any young man of my years. If I had been chaste before, it had been more from lack of opportunity than any inclination to virtue. I’ll admit that I gave a passing thought to disease, for the Academy had lectured us more than once on the danger of coupling with cheap street whores. But I very swiftly and easily persuaded myself that this girl in such an outlying farmstead had probably not known many men and thus had little chance of disease.

      There followed a night I have never forgotten and seldom regretted. I was fumbling at first, but then that ‘other self’ seemed to awaken inside me, and I discovered that he was not only experienced but skilful at bed games. I knew when to tease with a tickling touch, and when my mouth should be hard and demanding. She shivered under me, and the small moans that escaped her were music to me. I did experience some awkwardness, for although the rounded contours of her body seemed like familiar territory to me, I was not accustomed to dealing with the bulk of my own belly. Ruefully, I had to admit to myself that my weight gain was more than a trifling matter, but I refused to let it become an obstacle for us. Towards dawn, we parted with many kisses. I fell into the sleep of exhaustion, and morning came much too early for me.

      If I had been able to think of any excuse, I would have fabricated a reason to spend another night. As it was, the same kitchen maid offered me a huge breakfast and a very fond farewell. I did not wish to embarrass her by treating her as if she were an ordinary whore, but I did slip some money under my plate where she would find it when she cleared away the dishes. I bade the farmer and his wife farewell, and thanked them earnestly for their kind hospitality. The farmer repeated the kitchen maid’s warning about highwaymen. I promised him I’d be wary and saddled up Sirlofty and went on my way with an entirely different opinion of myself than I’d had the day before. As I made the ‘hold fast’ sign over my cinch buckle, I suddenly felt myself an adventurous traveller experiencing life on my own for the first time. It was exhilarating and a welcome change from the self-consciousness I’d felt on the jankship.

      The day passed quickly. I paid small attention to the road or scenery, but instead pondered every moment of the night before. I confess that I derived as much pleasure from imagining telling Rory and the fellows about my dallying with the farm maid as I did from recalling it. In early


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