he asked, “You buy? Sell?”
“We're looking for a guide.” When Svart frowned as if he didn't understand, Caim added, “To go north.”
“Ah!” Svart tapped his chest. “Guide. Yes, I can do this.”
Caim reevaluated the man. Although Svart appeared to be in decent health, he didn't look like an outdoorsman. Caim started to leave the bar, but Svart hurried to step in front of him. “No, no. I introduce guide. For a price. You understand?”
Caim paused, now understanding. Svart was a sharper, a middleman with connections in this little hamlet. Precisely the sort of man he needed. “You know someone who can take us north?”
“Of course. I know everyone. I have right men for you.”
A serving woman came over with a foaming mug of ale. Caim accepted it and paid her. “Not men,” he said. “Just one guide. Someone who knows the land.” He took a sip. The malt ale was red and frothy, but better than he assumed it would be, considering the rustic atmosphere. “And he has to speak Nimean.”
Svart made a big smile that showed his ivory-yellow teeth and pitted gums. “He speak very good. You give me ten gold.”
Caim almost spit out his ale. “Did you say ten gold?”
“Yes! You give me. Guide come to you, take you anywhere.”
Caim considered punching the man in the face and calling it a day. If they were anyplace else, he might have. But he didn't want to get lynched his first day here. Svart was oblivious, smiling as if he were doing Caim a favor.
“I'll give you five,” Caim said. And when Svart's smile widened, he added, “In silver.”
Svart's face collapsed. “No! This will not do. This guide is the best! You won't find a better man in all Scyalla.”
“Five for you to introduce us. If that's not enough, I'll find someone on my own.”
Caim made as if to leave with his drink, but Svart's smile returned. “No, five is good. Yes! Five silver is good. You give to me, and I bring guide here to you.”
“I'll pay you when I meet this guide of yours.”
Svart gave him a sideways look. “You are very cautious, my friend. For you, I will do this. But don't cheat me, eh? That would be very bad.”
“When can you have him here? We want to leave as soon as possible.”
“Early I will bring him.”
As Svart slipped away through the crowd, Caim wondered how he would know the time when there was no sunrise. The serving man reappeared and beckoned. Caim put down his cup and followed him through the crowd to a decrepit wooden staircase at the back of the room. The man showed Caim a room on the upper floor. It was small and dusty, with the sod roof only inches above his head, but after more than a month on the road, it looked like paradise. It had actual beds with sturdy wooden frames.
Caim tossed his pack in a corner and began peeling off numerous layers of clothing. His cloak and jacket were battered and worn. His shirts were stiff with sweat, food stains, and grime. Two men entered with a large, sloshing tub. Caim found his belt pouch and flipped them each a copper halfpenny before he eased into the steaming water. He sighed as the heat seeped into his bones. The journey had been more arduous than he had expected. Eregoth seemed like years ago.
Caim closed his eyes and let the tension drift out of his muscles.
Electric tingles across his left nipple made Caim open his eyes. Kit kissed his nose and sighed. She was straddling him, tracing the tattoo of interlocking circles over his heart with her fingertips. Caim sat up straight as some part of her lower body brushed against his lap. His mouth went dry as he looked her up and down. She wasn't wearing anything.
“Kit!”
She planted a kiss on his lips, and the feathery touch shut him up. It was like kissing the breeze, a very amorous breeze, but he couldn't deny that his body was responding. A warm flush flowed through him and pooled between his legs.
“I've been waiting until we could be alone.” She ran her fingers down his chest. “It's been agony.”
Caim reached out to stop her, but his hands passed right through her. He opened his mouth, and received a tiny shock as his tongue touched her glowing lips. For a moment, she almost seemed real, like an armful of water before it sluiced out of your grip. His heart beat faster.
Caim jerked his head back. “Whoa, Kit. Slow down.”
She kissed his neck and down to his collarbone. Her hands were wandering again. “Can you feel me, Caim? Am I real enough for you?”
“Kit, I'm not sure this is the best-”
She chuckled. “I'm sure. I want to.”
There wasn't much he could do to stop her. He was on the verge of just lying back and seeing where she took things when the door banged open. Candlelight and singing poured into the room ahead of three very drunk Eregoths.
Beer dripped from Dray's beard. “What are you doing up here, Caim? You're missing all the fun.”
Kit giggled and tickled Caim's stomach. With a wink, she ran her hands lower.
Caim drew up his legs in the water. “I needed to wash off the road.”
Dray knocked back the rest of his cup and belched. “There's these girls downstairs. You won't believe the size of their-”
Aemon staggered against his brother, nearly knocking them both onto a bed. As he struggled to get loose from Dray's one-armed hug, he lifted his candle higher. “Quiet down, you two. Can't you see Caim's tired? Don't worry, Caim. We'll let you bathe in peace.”
“Fuck peace.” Dray turned his empty mug upside down. “I need a woman.”
Malig laughed. “Fuck sheep? I always knew there was something odd about you, Dray. Aemon, you brother says-”
“Shhh!” Aemon hissed as he tried to shoo the others out the door. “Sorry, Caim. You want…you want us to get you some food?”
Caim ran a wet hand through his hair. “I'm fine. I'll be down.”
As the men stumbled out, and Aemon tried three times to shut the door before it latched, Caim leaned back and sighed. Kit was gone. It was just like her to get him all worked up and then vanish.
What was he going to do about her? He'd asked himself that every day since they left Liovard, but now it was weeks later and he was no closer to an answer. How could they have a relationship if he couldn't touch her, couldn't even kiss her properly? It was impossible, maybe even more impossible than his brief liaison with Josey. Two women in his life, each unattainable in her own way.
Caim sat there until the bathwater got cold. Then he got out, scrounged something half-clean from his pack, and started to dress. He was bending down for his boots when he decided to skip the meal. He crawled into a bed instead, not even minding the scratchy straw poking through the thin mattress cover as he laid down his head. He drooped one arm over the side, fingers within easy reach of his knives.
Caim was eating a bowl of bean soup in the inn's common room when Svart walked in. The room was otherwise empty except for an old woman in a gray smock wiping down tables.
“Ah, my friend!” the Northman said as he stamped his boots by the door and came across the room.
“You're here.” Caim put down his spoon. “I wasn't sure you were going to show up.”
“Me? No, no. I am good for my word. You are ready?”
“Where's the guide?”
“I take you to him. Not far from here.”
Caim hooked a thumb in his belt. “That wasn't the deal. You were supposed to bring him here.”
“Is not far. Come, my friend. A short walk. You will see.”
“All right. Let me go up and wake my friends.”
