Patrick Rothfuss - The Name of the Wind

“I would have done it myself,” I said. “But . . .”

“. . . but you’re an idiot who didn’t even make sure this was cleaned properly,” she finished. “If this gets infected, it would serve you right.”

She finished cleaning my side and rinsed her hands in the bowl. “I want you to know I’m doing this because I have a soft spot for pretty boys, the mentally infirm, and people who owe me money. I consider this protecting my investment.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I sucked in air when she applied the antiseptic.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to bleed,” she said matter-of-factly. “There’s another legend proven false.”

“Speaking of.” Moving as little as possible, I reached out and pulled a book out of my travelsack, then laid it on her desk. “I brought back your copy of Mating Habits of the Common Draccus . You were right, the engravings added a lot to it.”

“I knew you’d like it.” There was a moment of silence as she began stitching me back together. When she spoke again, most of the playfulness was gone from her voice. “Were these fellows really hired to kill you, Kvothe?”

I nodded. “They had a dowsing compass and some of my hair. That’s how they knew I was a redhead.”

“Lord and lady, wouldn’t that just send Kilvin into a froth?” She shook her head. “Are you sure they weren’t just hired to scare you? Rough you up a little to teach you to mind your betters?” She paused in her stitching and looked up at me. “You weren’t stupid enough to borrow money of Heffron and his boys, were you?”

I shook my head. “You’re the only hawk for me, Devi.” I smiled. “In fact that’s why I stopped by today—”

“And here I thought you merely enjoyed my company,” she said, turning back to her needlework. I thought I detected a tinge of irritation in her voice. “Let me finish this first.”

I thought about what she’d said for a long moment. The tall man had said, “let’s do him” but that could mean any number of things. “It’s possible they weren’t trying to kill me,” I admitted slowly. “He had a knife though. You don’t need a knife to give someone a beating.”

Devi snorted. “And I don’t need blood to get people to settle their debts. But it certainly helps.”

I thought about it as she tied off the final stitch and began to wrap me in a fresh bandage. Maybe it was meant to be a simple beating. An anonymous message from Ambrose telling me to mind my betters. Maybe it was a simple attempt to scare me off. I sighed, trying not to move too much as I did so. “I’d like to believe that’s the case, but I really don’t think so. I think they were really after blood. That’s what my gut tells me.”

Her expression grew serious. “In that case I will spread the word a little,” she said. “I don’t know about the part about killing their dogs, but I’ll drop a few things into the rumor mill so people will think twice about taking that sort of job.” She chuckled low in her throat. “Actually, they’re already thinking twice after last night. This will make them think three times.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Small trouble to me,” she said dismissively as she stood up and brushed off her knees. “A small favor to help a friend.” She washed her hands in the basin, then dried them carelessly on her shirt. “Let’s hear it,” she said as she sat behind the desk, her expression suddenly businesslike.

“I need money for a fast horse,” I said.

“Leaving town?” She arched a pale eyebrow. “You never struck me as the running away sort.”

“I’m not running,” I said. “But I need to cover some ground. Seventy miles before it gets much after noon.”

Devi widened her eyes a bit. “A horse that could make that trip is going to cost,” she said. “Why not just buy a post note and switch out fresh horses all the way? Faster and cheaper.”

“There’s no post stations where I’m going,” I said. “Upriver then into the hills. Little town called Trebon.”

“Alright,” she said. “How much are you looking for?”

“I’ll need money to buy a fast horse with no dickering. Plus lodging, food, maybe bribes. . . . Twenty talents.”

She burst out laughing, then regained her composure and covered her mouth. “No. I’m sorry but no. I do have a soft spot for charming young men like yourself, but it’s not on my head.”

“I have my lute,” I said, sliding the case forward with my foot. “For collateral. Plus anything else in here.” I put my travelsack on the desk.

She drew a breath, as if to refuse me out of hand, then shrugged and looked into the bag, poking around. She pulled out my copy of Rhetoric and Logic , and a moment later my handheld sympathy lamp. “Hello,” she said curiously, thumbing on the switch and pointing the light toward the wall. “This is interesting.”

I grimaced. “Anything except that,” I said. “I promised Kilvin I wouldn’t ever let that out of my hands. I gave my word.”

She gave me a frank look. “Have you ever heard the expression beggars can’t be choosers?”

“I gave my word,” I repeated. I unpinned my silver talent pipes from my cloak and slid them across her desk so they lay near Rhetoric and Logic . “Those aren’t easy to come by, you know.”

Devi looked at the lute, the book, and the pipes, and drew a long, slow breath. “Kvothe, I can tell that this is important to you, but the numbers just don’t add. You’re not good for that much money. You’re barely good for the four talents you owe me.”

That stung, mostly because I knew it to be the truth.

Devi thought about it for another second, then shook her head firmly. “No, just the interest . . . In two months you’d owe me over thirty-five talents.”

“Or something equally valuable in trade,” I said.

She gave me a gentle smile. “And what do you have worth thirty-five talents?”

“Access to the Archives.”

Devi sat. Her slightly patronizing smile frozen on her face. “You’re lying.”

I shook my head. “I know there’s another way in. I haven’t found it yet, but I will.”

“That’s a lot of if .” Devi’s tone was skeptical. But her eyes were full of something more than simple desire. It was closer to hunger, or lust. I could tell she wanted into the Archives just as badly as I did. Perhaps even more so.

“That’s what I’m offering,” I said. “If I can pay you back, I will. If not, when I find a way into the Archives I’ll share it with you.”

Devi looked up at the ceiling, as if calculating odds in her head. “With these things as collateral, and the possibility of access to the Archives, I can loan you a dozen talents.”

I stood up and swung my travelsack over my shoulder. “I’m afraid we’re not bargaining here,” I said. “I’m just informing you as to the conditions of the loan.” I gave her an apologetic smile. “It’s twenty talents or nothing. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear from the beginning.”

Three minutes later I strode toward the doors of the nearest livery. A well-dressed Cealdish man smiled at my approach and stepped forward to greet me. “Ah, young sir,” he said holding out his hand. “My name is Kaerva. Might I ask—”

“I need a horse,” I said, shaking his hand quickly. “Healthy, well-rested, and well-fed. One that can take six hours of hard riding today.”

“Certainly, certainly,” Kaerva said, rubbing his hands together and nodding. “All things are possible with the will of God. I’d be pleased to . . .”

“Listen,” I interrupted again. “I’m in a hurry, so we’re going to skip the preliminaries. I won’t pretend to be uninterested. You won’t waste my time with a parade of hacks and nags. If I have not bought a horse in ten minutes, I will leave and buy one elsewhere.” I met his eye. “ Lhinsatva ?”