Chapter 10

Indeira and Mirria decided to move into the new vardo right away. They didn't have much in the other wagon beyond some blankets and clothing, so the process was very easy. Mirria gathered up those things and handed them up to Indeira to stow in the cupboards. They spread the blankets on the big bed in front.

"We still have some of the knives and such to trade." Indeira noted. "Maybe we can get some sheets."

"We can ssee." said Mirria. "Blanketss arre fine forr me."

"Yes, but you have fur. I like something between me and the wool." Indeira laughed.

While they were arranging things in the vardo, Torvin worked on getting the old wagon cleaned out so it could be filled with grain sacks. Tomorrow they would go to the mill to load. They had not yet decided if they would leave immediately after that, or stay one more night at the fair.

Mirria was helping Torvin fold a piece of canvas when a young boy walked up to the camp.

"Indeira Harvaldsdottir?" he asked.

Indeira nodded to him. "I am here." she said.

"Sorren the merchant wants you to come to his booth."

"Tell him I will be there shortly." said Indeira.

The boy ran off.

Torvin set the canvas on the wagon and checked his sword. "I am coming with you." he said.

Indeira looked at him, and nodded. "That is probably a good idea." she said. "These people are used to accepting judgements from my father. They may be less willing to hear things from me."

She considered for a moment how she would proceed. Her father had often told her that what he did was part law, and part theater.

:Frida, would you be willing to help me?: she sent to the mare. Frida turned to look at her. Indeira explained what she had in mind, and the mare came over to them.

Torvin looked at his horse in surprise as she knelt down to let Indeira mount her bare back. Frida got up, and Torvin walked beside her, carrying Indeira's crutches.

When they arrived at Sorren's booth there was a table set up outside it with one chair behind it. Frida walked around behind it and knelt, standing again once Indeira was off her back. Torvin handed Indeira her crutches, and she moved the three steps needed to reach the chair, and sat. Torvin took up a position behind her right shoulder, while Frida looked over her left.

Once Indeira had arranged herself to her satisfaction, keeping her face smooth she looked up.

Sorren walked up with two men, both of whom looked angry.

"This is Lorgan, and this is Balgerd." Sorren introduced the two men. They were dressed in near identical wool and sheepskin. "Balgerd says Lorgan has stolen his sheep from him." Sorren stepped back.

Balgerd took a step forward, saying, "Why should we listen to a mere girl? You are not your father!"

Indeira raised one eyebrow and said nothing for a moment, then, "But my father is not here. You are free to leave. You are also free to ignore any judgement I may give you. But that will solve nothing." she said.

Balgerd muttered into his beard, but stepped back.

Lorgan spoke, "His fence is broken, and some of his herd escaped and joined with mine. I tried to give them back, but they keep escaping."

"You broke the fence!" Balgerd yelled. "Every time I fix it you break it again!"

Frida snorted behind Indeira's left shoulder. :He smells of fear.:

Lorgan said, "I have done no such thing! Your fence is weak, and your fixing is weaker!"

The two yelled insults at each other, and after a few minutes Indeira said, in a normal voice, "That is enough." When they did not stop, she said loudly, "Children! That is enough!"

They both turned to her, and Balgerd yelled, "We are not children!"

She raised an eyebrow. "No?" She simply gazed at them for a moment. They both began to fidget slightly. "Now, how large is the field where you keep your flock?" she asked Balgerd.

She asked them questions, not letting them say anything beyond the answers before asking another question. She occasionally mindspoke with Frida about their reactions. Finally, she held up a hand.

"Here is what I recommend that you do," she said, using the phrase her father had always used. "Sheep are most happy in larger flocks. Balgerd's flock is small, and they feel unsafe. Lorgan's flock is larger. Take down the fence between them and let them run together. They will all be happier, and safer."

"But how will we tell them apart?" cried Balgerd. "And what of the lambs? If they run together, who is to know which ram sired which lamb?"

Lorgan nodded. "Yes, that's a good question."

Indeira smiled. "There are dyes that last a long time. I am sure your wives each have their favorites. Dye the sheep's ears. As for the lambs, they belong to the ewes, so let that be. Both bloodlines will be healthier if they breed with the other's rams. This will benefit both of you in the long term."

Lorgan stroked his beard, nodding.

Balgerd muttered in his, but said nothing more. He turned and stomped off.

Lorgan said, "I will think on this, and talk to my wife. You may have something here." He then turned and walked away.

Indeira leaned back in the chair and heaved a sigh of relief. "Well, that could certainly have been worse." she said.

"That was well done." said Sorren. "And a good solution. You have learned much from your father." He looked up at Torvin and Frida. "And your court guards are a nice touch." Frida snorted and nodded her head. Torvin quirked a corner of his mouth.

Sorren handed Indeira a small pouch. "The usual fee." he said.

She thanked him, and pocketed the pouch without looking at it.

As they returned to their camp, Thorvin asked, "How did you convince Frida to do this?"

Indeira looked sideways at him. "I just asked her."

-x0x-

Mirria was handing blankets and linens up to Indeira in the vardo later

when they both heard a desperate call.

:Help! Please! Someone help! He is killing my friend! Help!:

Mirria dropped the canvas and took off running. Torvin threw a blanket at the wagon, grabbed his sword, and took off after her.

Indeira sent :Help is on the way!:

:Hurry!: came back.

Mirria followed the call through the fair, dodging between people and booths. She skidded to a halt and made a sharp turn between two large wagons. There she saw an figure prone on the ground, face bloodied, and a large man above. There was a small black and white cat on the chest of the downed person, hissing up at the man.

"Hey!" yelled Mirria.

The man turned his head, and she saw it was Haugen. He started to lunge at her, but stopped suddenly when an arm wrapped around his neck from behind. Torvin had come around the other side of the wagons. He dragged Haugen out into the open, away from his erstwhile victim.

The cat turned toward Mirria, still hissing.

:I am here to help.: she sent.

The cat's ears came up.

:He is hurt! Help him, please!: the cat sent to her.

Mirria knelt down by the fallen man. His face was covered with blood, and it was clear his nose was broken. He was breathing through his mouth, but did not seem to be conscious.

She heard a roar from the fight and looked up in time to see Torvin swat Haugen across the temple with the flat of his sword. Haugen went down like a sack of grain, and did not move. She returned her attention to the man in front of her.

She laid a hand on his head and opened her senses. Other than the cartilage in his nose, she didn't think anything was actually broken. She could detect no bleeding inside his skull. But she knew he had been hit hard, and more than once. From the angle at which he lay she thought his shoulder was dislocated. That would take more than her strength to put back. She looked up as Torvin approached.

"Hiss left sshoulder iss out of joint." she told him. "It would be kinderr to fixx while he iss not awake."

Torvin nodded. "I have done that before." he said, kneeling on the man's other side. He reached for the arm, and his eyes went wide when he touched it. Mirria tilted her head at him in question. Torvin shook himself like a wet dog. Then he grasped the man's arm, placed a foot against his side, shifted a bit until he had the right position, and yanked. The man bucked and yelled. The shoulder popped back in place. The man passed out again.

Mirria looked around for the cat, and found her sitting under the edge of the wagon, next to a small harp, a pack, and a rabbit skin bag. From the disturbance in the grass, she thought the cat must have dragged the harp and bags out of the way of the fight

:Is that his harp?: she asked the cat.

:Yes." she replied.

:What is his name? And where is your camp?:

:We don't have one. His name is Quin.: the cat replied, hunching lower.

Mirria turned to Torvin. "We musst take him to our camp."

"Yes," Torvin said distractedly, gazing down on the man's face. "Yes, we must."

He proceeded to gather the man up in his arms, rising with a little difficulty. Then he just started walking back toward their campsite with the man in his arms.

Mirria blinked, and turned to the cat. :I guess you're with me.: she sent. She picked up the harp and the bag, and offered her arm to the cat, who climbed to her shoulder. She set off behind Torvin.

:What is your name?: she asked the cat.

:He calls me Bitsy.: she replied.

:I am Mirria. Torvin is carrying your friend, and Indeira is waiting back at our camp.:

:Thank you.: said Bitsy. : Quin took me away from a man like that one. I almost died.:

Mirria purred at the little cat, and felt her relax a little.

They received a few odd looks as they went back through the edge of the fair and into the camp area. No one interfered, though, or asked questions. They made their way back to their own camp, where Indeira was waiting for them.

Mirria had mindspoken Indeira as they walked, telling her what had happened. Indeira directed Torvin to put Quin on one of the bunks inside the vardo, where she had laid a blanket. Torvin laid him down with great care, and then sat on the bunk across from him.

Indeira looked back and forth between them. "Do you know him?" she asked.

"No," said Torvin. "But I feel like I ought to. Or perhaps that I need to." He shook his head. "I don't understand this."

Indeira shared a glance with Mirria.

"Did something happen when you touched him?" she asked.

"Yes." Torvin replied. "But...it started before that." He shook his head again. "When Mirria took off, I...I felt something...pulling me."

"Did you feel a tingle, a buzz when you touched him?"

"Yes, that too." said Torvin. "What does this mean?"

"I think..." Indeira paused and looked at Mirria.

"It iss a bond." Mirria finished for her, nodding.

:So you do feel it, too.: Indeira sent.

:Since the first time I touched you.: Mirria sent back.

Indeira took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Something deep inside her relaxed.

Then she looked down at Quin. "We should clean him up."

"Yess!" said Mirria, scrambling out of the vardo. She came back in a minute with a basin of water and some cloths. Indeira accepted it from her, and set to work gently bathing the blood off Quin's face.

His face was slender, like the rest of him, and his nose had an elegant line, though it was now swollen and interrupted by the break. His hair was dark, long enough to tie at the back of his head. His hands, when Indeira cleaned them, had long, slender fingers. There were odd callouses on his fingertips. She supposed that was from the harp. She wondered if he had noble blood, and if so, what he was doing travelling with no servants or horse.

By the time she had cleaned him up as much as she was able, it had begun to grow dark. Mirria lit a fire and started water to heat. She and Indeira sat by the fire and ate meat pies for dinner, followed by willow bark tea. Torvin ate in the vardo. He wanted to keep an eye on the injured man.

After a bit, the women banked the fire, and crawled into the big bed. Torvin laid down on the bunk across from their new friend. The little black and white cat, Bitsy, curled up on Quin's legs.

-x0x-

They were jolted awake in the middle of the night by angry screams from the horses.

Mirria dove out the front, as Torvin leapt out of the back door of the vardo. Indeira made it to the back door and looked out. Quite a sight greeted their eyes. Stout and Bonnie were standing with the rumps forming a V, and Frida was holding a man against them, her teeth in his shoulder. The man's feet were barely touching the ground, forcing him to stand on his toes.

When Torvin got close enough to make out the man's features, he was not terribly surprised to see Haugen. At his feet was a split flask, and the smell of lamp oil told him what Haugen had planned.

"You just don't know when to give up, do you?" Torvin said.

"You got no right buttin' inta my business!" Haugen growled. "First with them theivin' women, and now that boy lover!"

Torvin considered him. "You are a bully. I do not like bullies. You have gotten into my business three times now. Do not do so again, or I will not use the flat side of my sword next time."

"You can't tell me what to do!"

Torvin touched Frida's flank. She tightened her teeth and shook her head slightly. Haugen screamed.

"I can, and will tell you to leave me and mine alone." He said. "Now get lost!"

Frida stepped forward, and the other two horses parted to let her through. Haugen had to scrabble with his toes to keep from falling and being dragged by the big mare. She marched him several lengths away from the camp, and then threw him. He fell in the road, yelling in pain. Frida took another step, and he scrambled backwards before getting to his feet and running away.

Torvin sent Mirria and Indeira back to their interrupted sleep, and spent the rest of the night sitting on the steps at the back of the wagon. There were no further incidents.