Terry Goodkind - The Pillars of Creation

D’Haran soldiers seemed to be everywhere. They were all big men, all wearing the same orderly leather, chain mail, and wool uniforms. All were armed with at least a sword, but most carried additional weapons—an axe, spiked mace, or knives. While the soldiers were alert and watchful, they didn’t appear to be bothering the merchants or hampering their business.

The woman selling sausages waved her good wishes to Jennsen and Sebastian before she pulled her cart off the road at an empty space beside three men setting out casks of wine on a short table. The three men, with the same strong jaws, broad shoulders, and tousled blond hair, were obviously brothers.

“Careful who you leave your animals with,” she called after them.

Many of the people who set up their stands down on the plain had animals and it seemed easy enough to conduct business where they were, rather than go up to the palace. Other people roamed the crowds, hawking items to passersby. Perhaps their simple wares sold better to those come to the open-air market. Some, like the woman with the cart, came to sell food they had cooked, and since there were plenty of people down below they had no need to go up inside. Jennsen suspected that others were content to be away from what was sure to be the greater scrutiny of officials and yet more guards in the palace proper.

Sebastian took it all in without looking obvious. She imagined in his gaze a running tally of troops. To others it would appear he was merely looking about at the merchants, enticed by the variety of wares for sale, but Jennsen saw that his vision focused beyond, to the great portals between towering stone columns.

“What should we do with the horses?” she asked. “And Betty?”

Sebastian gestured to one of the enclosures where horses were picketed. “We’re going to have to leave them.”

In addition to being so close to the home of the man trying to kill her, Jennsen didn’t like being among the press of so many people. She felt so flush with the sense of danger that she couldn’t think straight. Leaving Betty at a stable in a town was one thing, but leaving her lifelong friend out here, among all these people, was something else.

She pointed with her chin to the scruffy men minding the livestock enclosure. They were busily engaged in a game of dice.

“Do you think we can trust the animals to people like that? They could be thieves, for all we know. Maybe you could stay with the horses while I go look for Althea’s husband.”

Sebastian turned back from his survey of the soldiers near the entrance. “Jenn, I don’t think it’s a good idea to separate in a place like this. Besides, I don’t want you going in there alone.”

She gauged the concern in his eyes. “And if we get into trouble? Do you really think we could fight our way out?”

“No. You have to use your head—keep your wits about you. I’ve brought you this far, I’m not going to abandon you now and let you go in there alone.”

“And if they draw swords on us?”

“If it came to that, fighting wouldn’t save us in a place like this. It’s more important to give people a worry, make them think twice about how dangerous you might be, so that you don’t end up fighting in the first place. You have to bluff.”

“I’m not any good at that kind of thing.”

He grunted a short laugh. “You do it well enough. You did it with me that first night when you drew the Grace.”

“But that was just with you, and with my mother there. That’s different than in a place with so many people.”

“You did it at the inn in the way you showed the innkeeper your red hair. Your manner loosened her tongue. And, you kept the men at bay with nothing but your bearing and a look. All by yourself you gave all those men worry enough that they left you alone.”

She had never thought about it in that way. She viewed it more as simple desperation than calculated deception.

As Betty rubbed the top of her head against Jennsen’s leg, she idly stroked the goat’s ear and watched as the men left their game of dice to take horses from travelers. She didn’t like the rough way the men handled the horses, using switches instead of a steady hand.

Jennsen scanned the crush of people until she spotted the red scarf. She coiled the slack out of Betty’s rope and started off, pulling Rusty along with her. Surprised, Sebastian stepped quickly to catch up.

The woman in the red scarf was setting out pots with her sausages when Jennsen reached her. “Mistress?”

She squinted in the sunlight. “Yes, dear? Some more sausages?” She lifted a lid. “They are good, aren’t they?”

“Delicious, but I was wondering if you would accept a payment to watch our horses, and my goat.”

The woman replaced the lid. “The animals? I’m not a stableman, dear.”

Jennsen, holding the rope and the reins in one hand, rested her forearm on the side of the cart. Betty folded her legs and laid down beside the wheel. “I thought you might like the company of my goat for a while. Betty is a fine goat and wouldn’t cause you any trouble.”

The woman smiled as she peered down over the edge of her cart. “Betty, is it? Well, I could watch your goat, I guess.”

Sebastian handed the woman a silver coin. “If we could picket our horses with yours, it would put our minds at ease that they were in good hands, and that you were keeping an eye on them.”

The woman carefully inspected the coin, then appraised Sebastian more critically. “How long will you be? When I sell my sausages I’ll want to be heading home, after all.”

“Not long,” Jennsen said. “We just want to go find the man you told us about—Friedrich.”

Sebastian, in an offhand manner, pointed at the coin the woman was still holding. “When we get back, I’ll give you another to thank you for watching our animals. If we don’t get back until after your sausages are all sold, then I’ll give you two for your trouble of waiting on us.”

Finally, the woman nodded. “All right, then. I’ll be here selling my sausages. Tie your goat to the wheel, there, and I’ll keep my eye on her until you get back.” She gestured over her shoulder. “And you can put your horses with mine, there. My old girl would enjoy the company.”

Betty eagerly took the small chunk of carrot from Jennsen’s fingers. Rusty nudged her shoulder, insistent that she not be left out, so Jennsen let the horse have a piece of the rare treat, then passed a chunk to Sebastian so an ever-eager Pete wouldn’t be left out.

“If you lose track of where I am, just ask around for Irma, the sausage lady.”

“Thank you, Irma.” Jennsen smoothed Betty’s ears. “I appreciate your help. We’ll be back before you know it.”

As they mingled into the crowd funneling toward the great plateau, Sebastian put his arm around her waist to keep her close beside him as he escorted her into the gaping maw of Lord Rahl’s palace.

Jennsen could hear in the distance Betty’s plaintive bleating at being abandoned.

Soldiers in polished breastplates, all carrying upright pikes with razorsharp edges glinting in the sunlight, silently studied the people entering between the great columns. As their scrutiny turned toward Jennsen and Sebastian, she made sure not to look them in the eye. She kept her head down and moved in step with the other people shuffling past the ranks of soldiers. She didn’t know if they paid any particular attention to the two of them, but none reached out to seize her, so she kept moving.

The huge, cavelike entrance was lined in a light-colored stone, giving Jennsen a sense of passing into a grand hall rather than through a tunnel into a plateau the size of a mountain. Hissing torches in iron brackets set into the walls lit the way with a dotted line of light. The air smelled of burning pitch, but it felt warm inside, out of the winter wind.