King of Ashes. Raymond E. Feist

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King of Ashes - Raymond E. Feist The Firemane Saga

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to the smith, almost as much as they would the miller over in Trosh. In a village of fishermen and vegetable farmers, I will be considered a wealthy man in time.’

      ‘So no fun?’

      He gave a small smile and said, ‘I didn’t say that, but a little fun during a drunken festival is not a betrothal, and I don’t know if I’m interested yet. A wife, children …’ He shrugged.

      She studied his face, then said, ‘You will be. It’s buried in your nature to be a husband and father.’ She sat back. ‘But you are the type to settle down first, so you can provide well for them. If you leave, have you put away enough to start your own smithy?’

      ‘A little, and Edvalt will no doubt make a small gift of coin to me; it’s a smiths’ tradition.’ He looked at her, admiring how she was still the most attractive woman he knew. She had an uncommon bearing and, despite her age, a muscled and strong, lithe body. ‘And you?’ Declan asked. ‘Have you enough put by?’

      She laughed loudly, then turned towards Marius and waved for two more mugs. ‘Are you worried for me?’

      He shrugged. ‘You travel alone in dangerous times. Your husband is an old man, as you say. Things can happen.’

      ‘You’re a sweet man at heart, Declan. My husband never had a head for business. So when I married him, I made a bargain with Jack.’

      Declan said, ‘His name is Jack? I just realised in all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never spoken his name.’

      With a wry smile, Rozalee said, ‘I try not to. Anyway, I learned the business and after a few years convinced him to let me travel with him. A year later I was travelling without him. I built up the business, so it was easy to convince him he needed to stay at home and take care of things there. To this day I don’t think he realises that I only did it to spend as little time with him as possible.’ She stopped speaking when Marius brought over their mugs.

      The old innkeeper said, ‘That’s the last of it, unless you want to pay me.’ He turned and left, leaving Rozalee and Declan laughing.

      Rozalee continued. ‘I run the business, Declan. Jack sits around and occasionally takes a shipping order from a local merchant, but I set the rates and collect the money. I allot him spending money, but Jack has no idea how well we do, year to year. And he really doesn’t care so long as he can buy drinks, shoddy trinkets for easily impressed young girls, and new clothing now and again. I’ve put by for my future. Should the need arise, I could stop working today and have enough to live on for the rest of my life.’

      He only nodded, finding none of this surprising.

      ‘Have you given thought to where you’ll go?’ she asked him.

      ‘I’ve never been anywhere much, just up the road a bit and back. You’ve travelled. What do you think?’ he asked.

      She thought on it a moment, then said, ‘West, then up the coast. There are many decent towns on the western coast; it’s prosperous, trade is growing, and it’s as far from the eastern wars as you can get without a ship.’

      ‘West is as good a direction as any, I suppose,’ he replied.

      Rozalee said, ‘You should probably get back to the smithy unless you plan on being drunk tonight. I need a bath and a meal.’ She sniffed playfully in his direction, then said, ‘You could use a proper bath, as well.’

      Declan drained his mug and stood up, feeling slightly wobbly. He conceded she was right; he was one or two more mugs from intoxication. As he left, anticipating her finding him in the smithy later, she reached out and took his wrist. ‘You will leave, Declan,’ she said quietly. ‘If not shortly, soon enough.’ Then using a lighter tone, she said, ‘And you better tell me where you end up.’

      Realising he had been told to bathe, and that meant she was serious about what she said about her plans for him later, Declan walked with a slight stagger on his way back to the smithy and felt that this was indeed the very best time of his life.

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