Baubles

T HERE WAS NO NOTE for me from Denna when I returned to Anker’s that night. Nor was there one waiting in the morning. I wondered if the boy had ever found her with my message, or if he had simply given up, or dropped it in the river, or eaten it.

The next morning I decided my mood was too good to spoil it with the inevitable madness of Elodin’s class. So I shouldered my lute and headed over the river to look for Denna. It had taken longer than I’d planned, but I was eager to see the look on her face when I finally returned her ring.

* * *

I walked into the jeweler’s and smiled at the small man standing behind a low display case. “Are you finished with the ring?”

His forehead creased. “I . . . I beg your pardon, sir?”

I sighed and dug around in my pocket, eventually producing the slip of paper.

He peered at it, then his face lit with understanding. “Ah, yes. Of course. Just a moment.” He made his way through a door into the back of the shop.

I relaxed a bit. This was the third shop I’d visited. The other conversations hadn’t worked out nearly this well.

The tiny man bustled out of the back room. “Here we are, sir.” He held up the ring. “Right as rain again. Lovely stone too, if you don’t mind my saying.”

I held it to the light. It was Denna’s ring. “You do good work,” I said.

He smiled at this. “Thank you, sir. All told, the work came to forty-five pennies.”

I gave a small, silent sigh. It had been too much to hope that Ambrose had paid for the work in advance. I juggled numbers in my head and counted a talent and six jots onto the glass top of the display case. As I did, I noticed it had the slightly oily texture of twice-tough glass. I ran my hand over it, wondering idly if it was one of the pieces I had made at the Fishery.

As the jeweler gathered up the coins, I noticed something else. Something inside the case.

“A bauble caught your eye?” he asked smoothly.

I pointed at a necklace in the center of the case.

“You have excellent taste,” he said, pulling out a key and unlocking a panel in the back of the case. “This is quite an exceptional piece. Not only is the setting elegant, but the stone itself is remarkably fine. You don’t often see an emerald of this quality cut in a long drop.”

“Is it your work?” I asked.

The jeweler gave a dramatic sigh. “Alas, I cannot claim that distinction. A young woman brought it in several span ago. She had more need of money than adornment it seems, and we came to an arrangement.”

“How much would you like for it?” I asked as casually as possible.

He told me. It was a staggering amount of money. More money than I had ever seen in one place. Enough money that a woman might live comfortably in Imre for several years. Enough money for a fine new harp. Enough for a lute of solid silver, or, if she desired, a case for such a lute.

The jeweler sighed again, shaking his head at the sad state of the world. “It is a shame,” he said. “Who can tell what drives young women to such things.” Then he looked up and smiled, holding the teardrop emerald to the light with an expectant expression. “Still, her loss is your gain.”

* * *

Since Denna had mentioned the Barrel and Boar in her note, I decided to start looking for her there. My lute case hung heavier on my shoulder now that I knew what she’d given up to pay for it. Still, one good turn deserves another, and I hoped the return of her ring would help balance things between us.

But the Barrel and Boar wasn’t an inn, merely a restaurant. Without any real hope, I asked the host if someone might have left a message for me. Nobody had. I asked if he remembered a woman who had been there the night before? Dark-haired? Lovely?

He nodded at that. “She waited for a long while,” he said. “I remember thinking, ‘Who would keep a woman like that waiting?’ ”

You would be amazed at how many inns and boarding houses there are, even in a smallish city like Imre.

Date: 2015-02-03; view: 643