Fool's Errand (Tawny Man #1)

Fool's Errand (Tawny Man #1) Page 26

It was the second time we went to market that we chanced to meet Hap's hedgewitch from Buckkeep. We had set our wares out on the tail of our pony cart in the market. Midway through the morning, she found us there, exclaiming with pleasure at seeing Hap again. I stood quietly to one side, watching them talk. He had told me Jinna was pretty, and so she was, but I confess I was startled to find her closer to my age than his. I had supposed her a girl who had turned his head when they met in Buckkeep. Instead she was a woman nearing her middle years, with hazel eyes, a scattering of freckles, and curly hair that shaded from auburn to brown. She had the round and pleasant figure of a mature woman. When he told her that her charm against pickpockets had been stolen from him before the day was out, she laughed aloud, an open hearty laugh. Then she calmly replied to him that that was exactly how the charm was intended to work. His purse had been protected when the thief took the charm instead of it.

When Hap glanced about to include me in the conversation, her eyes had already found me. She was regarding me with that expression parents usually reserve for possibly dangerous strangers. When I smiled and nodded to Hap's introduction and offered her good day, she visibly relaxed and her smile expanded to include me. She stepped closer as she did so, peering up at my face, and I realized her eyesight was not keen.

She had brought her wares to market, and spread her mat in the shadow of our cart. Hap helped her arrange her charms and potents, and the two of them made a merry day of our marketing after that, exchanging news since Springfest. I listened in as Hap told her of his apprenticeship plans. When he spoke to Jinna, it became very clear to me just how much he had wished for the cabinetmaker in Buckkeep rather than the boatbuilder in Hammerby Cove. I found myself pondering if there was yet some way it might be arranged, not only the higher fee but for someone other than myself to negotiate the apprenticeship on his behalf. Could Chade be persuaded to help me in such an endeavor? From there my mind wandered to what the old man might ask of me in return. I was deep in such thoughts when Hap's elbow in my ribs jolted me from my wandering.

“Tom!” he protested, and I instantly perceived that in some way I had embarrassed him. Jinna was looking at both of us expectantly.

“Yes?”

“See, I told you it would be fine with him,” Hap crowed.

“Well, I do thank you, as long as you are sure it would be no trouble,” Jinna replied. “It's a long road, with inns both far spaced and expensive to one such as myself.” av, I nodded my agreement to the statement, and in the next few minutes of conversation, I realized that Hap had extended the hospitality of our cottage to her the next time I she happened to pass our way. I privately sighed. Hap loved the novelty of our occasional guests, but I still regarded any I new stranger as a potential risk. I wondered how long I would have to live before my secrets were so old that they no longer mattered.

I smiled and nodded as they conversed, but added little. Instead, I found myself studying her as Chade had taught me but I found nothing to suggest she was anything other than the hedgewitch she claimed to be.

Which is to say that I knew very little of her at all. Hedgewitches and -wizards are fairly common at any market, fair, or festival. Unlike the Skill, common folk attach no awe to hedgemagic. Unlike the Wit, it does not mark the practitioner for execution. Most folk seem to regard it with both tolerance and skepticism. Some of those who claim the magic are complete and unapologetic charlatans, j These are the ones who pull eggs from the ears of the gullible, tell fortunes of vast riches and lofty marriages for j milkmaids, sell love potions that are mostly lavender and j chamomile, and peddle luck charms made from dismembered rabbits. They are harmless enough, I suppose.

Jinna was not, however, one of those. She had no friendly patter of talk to attract the passing folk, nor was she dressed in the gaudy veils and jewelry that such frauds usually affected. She was clad as simply as a forester, her tunic shades of green over buckskinbrown trousers and soft shoes. The charms she had set out for sale were concealed within the traditional bags of colored fabric: pink for love charms, red to rouse lagging passions, green for good crops, and other colors whose significance I did not know. She offered packets of dried herbs as well. Most were ones I knew and they were correctly labeled as to their virtues: slipperyelm bark for sore throats, raspberry leaves for morning sickness and the like. Mixed amongst the herbs were fine crystals of something which Jinna claimed increased their potency. I suspected salt or sugar. Several pottery dishes on her mat held polished disks of jade or jasper or ivory, inscribed with runes for luck or fertility or peace of mind. These were less expensive than the constructed charms, for they were merely general good wishes, though for an extra copper or two Jinna would “hone” the pocket stone to the individual customer's desire.