Enlightenment

CHAPTER SEVEN

With their heads again shaved and pink, their pointed hats on, they left for the bazaar where it seemed anything, and everything, was for sale for a price. Sara looked worried and tense, which were both true if her fears paralleled Prin’s.

While they searched for information about trained guard dogs, they avoided suggestions of where to buy cuddly puppies. Twice, Sara stopped at stalls and purchased plants, spices, and once a bag of ground powder that was a familiar cooking spice. “Our food will taste so much better with this.”

“Well, you’ll also like what I see up ahead, too. Dogs,” Prin said.

At the edge of the bazaar sat a wagon with two dogs sprawled in the shade under it. Both wore heavy chains around their necks and eyed the girls as they drew closer. They rose and bared yellow teeth. Fierce growls warned the girls to stay away.

“I’d listen to them and wouldn’t get any closer,” a man called lazily from behind the wagon where he’d been napping in a chair tilted back against a wall. “Go on about your business.”

Sara backed off, but Prin took another step closer and knelt, just out of reach of the nearest. “Are they trained?”

“Not for little girls. Those two will rip your head from your body and tear your arms and legs from it.”

“But are they trained?” Prin demanded, her voice stern.

“Trained to attack, which is what I may have them do if you two don’t move on. Real buyers will take one look at you trying to play with them and think they’re pets. Then I’ll lose a sale because of you.”

Prin turned to look at him. He was dirty, his clothing little more than rags, and most women would have done as he said, but she remained, angered by his attitude. “Do you treat all your customers like this?”

“You ain’t a customer and those dogs ain’t puppies for you to play with.”

She stood. “My father sent us to locate a dog to guard his warehouse, not a pet.”

He settled the chair down on four legs and stood, slowly and with a small measure of respect. He said, “Either of those will attack you if you get closer. I warn you to stay away. Send your father to buy his own dog.”

Both dogs were still on their feet. Their lips were pulled back, teeth bared, and low warning growls came from deep within their massive chests. They were staked to the ground by heavy chains stretched to the limit. Saliva dripped from the mouth of the larger dog.

Prin said, “Just because they’re mean does not tell me they’re trained. Order them to allow me to walk to them.”

“What?”

“Tell them to stand down,” Prin said sweetly. “If they’re properly trained.”

“They’re damn watchdogs, not pussy-cats. Now, get away from them—and me.” He turned and went back to his chair.

Prin turned to Sara, who appeared terrified of the dogs, the angry man, or both. She said, “These are not the ones we want. I only have the one gold sliver to spend.”

The man leaped to his feet at her mention of gold, but Prin turned away and strode away, ignoring his calls to return. Before she went a dozen steps, a gray-haired woman standing at a stall across the aisle motioned for her to approach. She sold straw hats of all sorts. She held one up and said loudly, for the benefit of the dog seller, “I may copy the kind of hats you two are wearing so I can sell them here. They’re lovely. May I see one?”

Sara quickly agreed, probably since it took her a few steps further away from the vicious dogs. She handed her hat to the old woman, who examined it and commented on the beautiful construction, quality materials, and style. Then, in a softer voice intended for their ears only, “There is a man at the end of this row who has dogs you might wish to examine.”

She handed the hat back to Sara with a flourish and a concealed smile.

Prin winked at her in thanks and started in the direction she’d indicated, Sara at her side. She turned and called, “I’ll be back later to look at your hats.”

They walked in the direction of the dog seller. A raven landed on the roof of a green and white striped tent. Both Sara and Prin noticed the odd way it looked at them, hopping and dancing to get closer. It moved to the edge of the tent and said, “Hannah beware.”

Sara put her hands to her mouth in surprise. “That was Evelyn’s voice.”

“I thought so too.”

“Hannah beware,” the bird said again softly, then flew off.

Sara turned to Prin. “The good news is that you didn’t imagine that.”

“I wonder if it was the same bird?”

“It was Evelyn’s voice, and it did call you Hannah. I think she somehow sent it.”

Prin said, “How could she do that?”

Sara shrugged. “I don’t know. But we both think it was her voice, and only she would know that other name. Instead of wondering how we should be wondering why. To send a warning across over a mountain range is beyond me, but I’m just a beginning sorceress, and there’s a lot I don’t know.”

“I wish she had said more.”

“Well, I think telling you to beware, along with the idea of sending the message, tells you all you need to know. They are coming for you. They know you’re here. Beware.”

They walked down the aisles in silence, still heading for the place where the dogs were sold, but Prin kept her eyes to the sky, and to any birds that might call her name. She noticed another bookseller along the way. Within the hundreds of books, one emitted small blue dots, like the floating pink dots at Evelyn’s workshop in the forest, but these were tiny, blue, and remained floating near one book. She nudged Sara and shifted her eyes to the book.

Sara nearly stumbled at the sight, then recovered. Speaking loud enough for those near her, she said, “I need a book with recipes. I’m tired of eating the same things every day.”

The woman selling the books spoke up, “I have a few you may like.”

They pretended to be interested in the three other cookbooks, finding one contained complicated recipes, one that was in bad condition, and one had pages missing. Prin recognized the letters of the titles and tried sounding out the words, while Sara talked to the seller. Sara found a small, but detailed book of local plants, including detailed drawings of each, along with descriptions and possible medical uses. She placed it on the counter and then reached for the book with the little blue dots floating near it.

As Sara’s hand barely touched it, the bookseller reacted as if slapped across her face. She spun and grabbed Sara’s wrist, “Not that one, honey.”

“I was just going to look at it.”

“There are many other books to buy, but that one is reserved for a regular customer.”

Sara straightened and said, “We have to go see those dogs, so we better hurry. We can come back here another time.”

After leaving, Prin said, “That was odd.”

“She reacted like that with her back turned to me. How did she know which book I touched?”

“It was like at Evelyn’s workshop. I saw the bubbles floating near the book, but they never left it.”

“We’ll go to her stall again after we think about what happened.”

“Do you think she is a sorceress?” Prin asked softly.

“Possibly, but I don’t think so. I think a sorceress is using the bookseller to pass on the contents to another sorceress and she cast a spell on her.”

“Did you manage to read the words on the edge of the book?”

Sara said, “Protective Spells. It said nothing more. But the letters shifted and swirled in curlicues of ink so it couldn’t be read unless I took the time to decipher each letter in order. I believe most people would glance at it and move on because it was too much trouble to read.”

“That’s a clever way to hide writing.”

They had been walking as they talked and came to the end of the row. Three dogs were in front of a wagon, none tied, two sleeping and one idly watching people as they walked past. An older puppy was behind the wagon on a leash. A small man in baggy clothing walked it in a small open space, talking gently to the dog as they moved.

Sara said, “Let’s buy a meat pie and lemon water.” She indicated a stall with two tiny tables, each with two small chairs.

The vendor was situated where they could watch the man with the dogs without being obvious. Prin understood Sara’s objective. The previous dog seller trained them to be mean, probably by beating them, which is not the same as training. They sat at a small table where they could watch.

The man moved stiffly, and appeared hindered by bad knees but didn’t seem to be more than his early thirties. He held the leash in a limp hand, never allowing the dog to determine the direction they walked. He used careful persuasion on the pup, talking softly as it learned, praising it for doing what was asked. Although the dog was not yet fully grown, it obeyed his commands eagerly.

They devoured the meat pies, and Prin wished she had kept some of hers, to feed a dog. They finished the lemon water and approached the trainer. He greeted them with a cheerful welcome and held the puppy back with a short leash, telling it to sit.

Sara took the lead. “Our father asked us to find a dog for him. He’s an importer and exporter of rare spices, some quite valuable and we need a dog to guard our warehouse, and maybe us.”

“You can find watchdogs to chain up near your door for much less than my dogs.”

“I once saw a dog that attacked only on command. Otherwise, it was as gentle as the three sleeping at the edge of your stall.”

“Was it here in Indore?”

“No, far across the sea,” Sara said quickly, cutting that subject short.

“Well, I thought you might have run across one of mine,” he said.

“That’s how you train your dogs?”

He provided a long, convoluted description, the spiel of a man who loved his work. Within the tangle of words, Prin understood that each breed of dog has a purpose. A few breeds are large enough to pose a threat, yet gentle enough to raise among children—if they are well trained. The three dogs sunning themselves were examples.

Prin said, “I can walk up to any of them and pet them?”

“You’ll be perfectly safe—unless I give the command to attack.”

Sara said, “Will they halt their attack if you order them?”

“To sell many more dogs, the answer I give should give to a potential customer is, yes.” He shrugged in a way that said he wasn’t sure. “The truth is, maybe. When good dogs sense one they love is being hurt or is in danger, no words will hold them back.”

“Will they bite us?” Sara asked. “I mean, if they get upset that we didn’t feed them on time or something?”

He laughed. Her answer told him and Prin that she had never owned a dog, and hadn’t been around many. The man said, “Part of the expense of my animals is the breeding and selection. I accept only the best, so once a dog bonds with an owner there is no danger. None. Also, before you ask, I do not allow my dogs to be sold until the owner is also trained, a task of at least three days, well, three partial days.”

Prin approached the wary dogs still sunning themselves, her hand extended. All sniffed, but one stood and approached. It was the largest, the most intelligent in appearance, and when it wagged its tail and licked her palm the choice was made. “His name?”

“That is for the owner to decide.”

Prin sat beside the dog and placed an arm over its shoulder. The dog sat and gazed at her with adoring eyes.

Sara said, “If you order it to do so, will that dog attack Prin?”

“I’m not sure my training is that good. Just look at them. I think they have already forged a bond. If I didn’t have a hungry wife to feed, I’d just give the dog to the girl.”

“What would your wife say if she heard you talking like that about her?” Sara demanded, trying not to smile.

“She would say that I feed her so she can keep me warm during cold winter nights.”

Sara laughed and asked, “Will your training demonstrate the dog attacking?”

“Yes, and protecting you. My dogs are not mere animals taught to attack when they hear a command. If someone intends to harm you and the dog senses it, you will be warned by growls, and if it believes the threat is still there, the dog will attack without command. But, to reassure you, he would only attack if someone was striking you, not just shouting or yelling.”

After more discussion, the deal was made. The owner wouldn’t allow them to take the dog until they returned for training. They left his stall and paused long enough at three more stalls to purchase the basics for cooking in their new loft.

The swirl of activity in the bazaar captivated both, and as they moved up and down the aisles, they paused to watch dancers, listen to singers or musicians, and browse items of interest for whatever reason. They spoke to people and came to know several enough to pass a few friendly words.

While talking to an old lady about the benefits of one sleeping pad over another, Sara said softly, “Look at that.”

Prin turned and found a flock of ravens, ten or twelve, flying past, but as she spotted them, the flock wheeled and turned in her direction. They landed on the roofs of the stalls all around them, twisting their head to look at Prin and bobbing them as they moved closer. Each of them repeated, “Hannah beware,” before flying away.

Prin stood transfixed, and hissed at Sara, “Did you see and hear that?”

“When you can turn naturally, look to your left, at the tall man dressed in black robes walking down the next aisle.”

Prin casually turned as she examined the material of the sleeping pad displayed. Her eyes went to the tall man wearing a black flowing robe. His features were sharp, his age not much older than Sara’s. She’d first seen him often at the Earl’s castle when she was a young fire starter, and he’d watched her then. He’d watched so intently that she had learned to take the back hallways to avoid his scrutiny. He was part of those opposed to King Harold. He was probably the one who had ordered and paid for her father to be killed, and the one who was undoubtedly here to kill her.

It was the man known to her as the ‘young mage.’