Mary Herbert - City of Sorcerers

Very carefully she reached into the crate and drew out a small, furry animal. Sayyed rolled his eyes. Of course. Nothing but animals ever got Tam that excited at the bazaar.

“She is a beautiful beast, yes?” the Pra Deshian said. “And very rare. I brought her mother, already pregnant, from the city of Macar far to the east. This little one is the last I have left. I sold the mother for a fine price to the Fon of Pra Desh himself.

“How fine?” Sayyed asked, trying to keep the sharpness out of his voice. He was not going to be beggared for the sake of an animal, no matter how much his wife liked it.

The merchant cast a speculative eye at Tam and then at Sayyed, as if weighing his opportunities. Tam had the little creature cradled in her arm and was gently scratching the base of its small, pointed ears. It was pushing its head against her hand and making a faint rattling noise.

“The lady is obviously pleased by my little pet.” He paused and added with a broad gesture, “For her, I am willing to negotiate.”

Before Sayyed could answer, Tam plopped the furry animal into his arms. He held it up in both hands, and it dangled there watching him with equal curiosity. The creature was a pure shade of white with fur as thick and soft as thistledown. Its legs and tail were long compared to its lean body, and its head was round with a short nose and round, golden eyes. Sayyed decided the animal reminded him of a tiny copy of a cave lion. “What is it?” he asked.

“A cat,” the merchant answered proudly. “About half a year old. She is little trouble to keep. She hunts her own food, grooms herself, and walks on her own. All she asks is a warm bed and a loving hand. Both of which I believe your lady has. I do not sell my animals to just anyone, sir. I sell them at any price I choose to people I feel will appreciate them.”

Sayyed regarded his wife mildly. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Tam shrugged, her eyes twinkling—which brought a smile to the merchant’s face. Without a word, she took the cat from her husband and set it carefully on the counter before her. For a long minute, she and the little animal stared at one another eye to eye, as if reaching an agreement. Then Tam tensed, closed her eyes, and raised a finger.

Sayyed leaned against the counter. He knew what was coming next. It was too late to try to talk Tam out of the cat now, even if he wanted to. She would make it hers with one simple magic spell.

Gently she tapped the cat’s head and spoke for the first time in a soft, singsong voice. There were no obvious sparks or bolts of light to mark the execution of her spell. The cat only blinked and sat down, its golden eyes staring intently at Tam.

Meow.

A radiant smile lit Tam’s face. “She said yes,” she told Sayyed.

The merchant’s mouth opened. “What? Who said yes?”

“The cat,” Sayyed explained. “As you can see, my wife adores animals. She has perfected a spell that allows her to understand what an animal is communicating.”

“And she just did that? Here? I didn’t see anything!”

“There isn’t much to see. The magic is very subtle and doesn’t hurt the animal.”

“But the cat only meowed. She said nothing that I could understand,” said the merchant, still perplexed.

“Only other magic-wielders can understand animals that she has spelled.” Sayyed reached out and patted the cat. “Unfortunately no one else has been able to copy her spell. Tam has a very strong empathy with animals, and I think that’s why she can work this sorcery so successfully.”

“Interesting,” the Pra Deshian said, turning to look thoughtfully at Tam and the cat, who were both watching him intently. “So what did the cat agree to?”

“She is willing to stay with me,” Tam replied. When she chose to talk, Tam’s voice was neither weak nor hesitant. Her words came out with a quiet firmness that revealed the strength behind the silence.

The merchant leaned over and waggled a finger at her. “I am agreeable to that as well. . . for a certain compensation. You cannot use sorcery on my merchandise and expect me to give it away.”

“Of course not,” she said mildly, undaunted by his bulk looming over her.

Sayyed watched, his arms crossed, and wondered how she intended to pay for this cat. Gold was a rare commodity among the clans of the plains, more often being used for jewelry or decoration than money. The clanspeople relied on the barter system. And that was the problem to Sayyed. He could think of nothing they had that would interest this merchant for an exchange. The Pra Deshian seemed to have everything already!

Tam must have seen the question on his face, because she winked at him before turning back to the merchant. “I understand you have been having problems with some of your draft horses,” she said.

The man was startled by the question. “Yes, but what has that to do with this?”

“Would you consider my services to your animals a fair trade for this one small cat?”

“What sort of services?” the merchant asked suspiciously.

“If I can talk to them, I can learn their problems. Find out who is ailing or hurts, what they need to make them happy. I can tend their sores and ease their fears.”

The merchant was quiet for a very long moment. His gaze bore into Tam’s, weighing her words and the possible benefits of her help against the value of a white cat. His fingers tapped the wooden counter. “I have eighteen horses,” he said at last.

“For the cat I will speak to them all,” said Tam.

The Pra Deshian hesitated again, until Sayyed began to think the merchant would not accept. Then the man shrugged heavily under his robes. “Dobs has a harness sore on his shoulder I can’t seem to cure, and Ben has been favoring a leg. . . .” Tam said nothing. She scratched the cat’s ears and let the man think.

“How do I know you can really understand these animals?” he demanded at last.

“Come.” Tam turned and strode from the tent. The merchant signaled to his helper to take over, then he hurried after her with Sayyed and the cat trailing behind. The group went around the back of the tent where five large wagons were parked and a string of big, short-legged, powerful draft horses was picketed in two lines under an awning.

Sayyed nodded with approval when he saw them. The horses were clean, well fed, and cared-for. He began to think Tam’s offer just might be enough to sway the Pra Deshian, who obviously made an effort to see his beasts’ comfort.

Tam walked in among the picketed horses without hesitation, patting rumps and running her hands down soft noses. When she came to a large gray, she paused. “Ben?” The merchant nodded.

Once again, Tam drew on the magic energy around her, formed her spell in her mind, and with her soft words set the spell into motion. The gray bobbed his head once, then turned to look at her out of a dark, liquid eye. Nickering, he lifted his front left hoof off the ground. Silently Tam pulled her small dagger from the sheath at her belt. She cradled the horse’s hoof on her skirt between her knees and carefully began to probe into the crevice by the frog, the triangular-shaped pad under the hoof. No one else moved.

After a time she smiled and slowly pulled out a sliver of rock that had become wedged out of sight and was bruising Ben’s foot. The horse snorted in relief.

The merchant nodded once. “It’s a deal.”

Like a child with a treasured gift, Tam swooped up the cat and twirled with it among the horses, the delight shining on her slender face.

The Pra Deshian grinned. “That’s quite a woman you have there, clansman.”

Sayyed barely nodded, for his eyes were following his wife around in her dance of joy. The merchant was right. Tam was something special—but Sayyed had known that for twenty-three years.