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dad was the best fisherman in all the White Spires,” Raener said, “and from what I hear, Colm can beat ’im at ’is own game. The road keeps close to the river the whole way to Caithmor. Might be nice to break the monotony of dry beef and watery stew with some fresh fish every now and then.”
    Fergus’s eyes seemed to brighten, but his expression stayed doubtful. Only now did Colm realize that the two men were bartering, and that Fergus’s refusal had been nothing but an opening gambit in the game. Colm flushed with embarrassment that he hadn’t recognized it sooner, but bartering was a rarity in Anneslea, where you knew every vendor and exactly what each item they had for sale should cost.
    â€œSeveral of my lads try for fish at the end of each day,” Fergus said. “They fail more often than not. The Slew’s a terrible river for fishing from the shore, too wide and too deep. How do I know he’ll bring in more than just his own supper?”
    â€œHow ’bout the first catch of every evening goes to you, and only after that does the young man feed his own self?” Raener suggested.
    â€œA fine thought, in theory, but what if the first catch is a wee minnow, eh? What’s to keep him from handing that off to me to make do with while he goes on to catch a foot-long rock trout on his second try?”
    â€œWell, specify a length, then, ye vast ravener. Four inches.”
    â€œEight.”
    â€œFive.”
    â€œSix.”
    â€œDone.” The men gripped each other’s forearms, then both looked over at Colm, who knew he was gaping but couldn’t help it. Fergus burst out laughing, his tremendous gut jiggling like a sand-colored pudding. “How do you feel about the price that this cow-loving pile of dung has wrought for you, eh lad?”
    â€œBetter a pile of dung than a great blubbery ball of lard and guts,” the farmer said jovially. “And he’s fine with it, aren’t ye, lad?”
    â€œQuite,” Colm said at last when it appeared that they were actually expecting him to speak this time. “Thank you both.”
    â€œOh, I’ll see you earn your keep on this trip,” Fergus promised him. “Fish and a bit of hauling here and there, and you walk at least half the time, Weathercliff. I won’t have you and your great lanky body tuckering out my camels half a month in, y’hear? Be here tomorrow, five in the morning sharp. Ye’ll beat the cock’s crow or I’ll leave you to run after us on those stork legs of yours. Marley!” he bellowed suddenly. “Great Four, are you lashing those boxes in place? On top of the furs? Do you want them to wreck all my pelts? Idiot!” He bustled past the two of them to harangue his long-suffering porter, and Raener looked on with the air of a man well satisfied.
    â€œSo, now you’ve your passage and I’ve done good by your dad,” he said. “I hope your luck is better than your sire’s, lad.”
    â€œAs do I.” His companion looked like he was getting ready to leave, and Colm had a sudden thought. “May I buy you dinner, and perhaps trouble you for another favor as well?”
    â€œI wouldn’t say no to dinner,” Raener mused, rubbing a hand over his whiskery white chin thoughtfully. “Though my missus will have my head if I come home smellin’ of ale, so no more than a single tankard, mind. What’s this favor, then?”
    â€œCould you get a letter for my family back to Anneslea for me?”
    â€œAye, if you write it up quick, lad.”
    They found a table in a nearby tavern where Raener seemed to know everyone, and ate cold ham and seed rolls while Raener drank and Colm struggled through his letter to Baylee. In the end, it was disappointingly short, but the best he could manage in a hurry.
    Deerest sister
    I am in Isealee and vahe fownd a cavar a way to Caithmor. I will be prhaps a month