Conerica Straits

afternoon

The caravan to Elidir assembled along Saringallow’s riverfront, which is close to the warehouse district. This presented problems for repeating my “offer Iskaryn as a scout” strategy, as that required calling her back to me; essentially doing the exact opposite of what I had been warned about. I was fretting about this all morning.

As it turned out, I needn’t have worried. There’s a large temple to Erastil here, and thus no shortage of wardens, scouts, trackers, and guides, many with animal companions. This caravan had two already, and Iskaryn’s services would not be needed.

The money I earned with Nish is going up in smoke. Three nights of nothing but expenses, followed by this.

But I wasn’t done. After all, if I am going to bleed coins, I might as well do it properly.

I realized I’d been taking my own safety for granted, especially given the stories about Isger—those walls in Saringallow exist for a reason. Yes, the Conerica River and its northern branch are patrolled, but they can’t be everywhere at once. All the merchants in this caravan (and the last one) wore some form of protection, and most of the travelers did as well.

And there was the same problem I had on the first day out of Petitioner’s Port: the look that says “she needs protecting” and the offers that follow.

Fuck that.

Nish put a stop to it last time just through proximity, but I needed to solve it for good on my own. So I purchased some simple leather armor.

Iskaryn was pissed off about it. One, I bought it without her there because we were in Saringallow, and two, because it cost me much of what I have left. Which suggests she would have tried to bully me out of it.

We must have been overdue for a row because we had a proper one when the caravan stopped for lunch. Thankfully, we both had the presence of mind to do it away from the group, so all I got was a bunch of concerned looks instead of hostile glares.

“You’ll need that money when we get to Breachill,” she said.

I countered, “It’ll do me no good if I’m dead.”

“You have me to watch for trouble and warn you!”

“You can’t deflect arrows and blades!”

“You don’t know how long it will take to find them! What if you run out?”

“Says the bird who forced me to buy that fucking journal!”

We attracted the attention of one of the hawks, a companion to one of our trackers, and it landed on the ground and glared at us. And, yes, I know what it looks like when a bird glares, because I have experience.

Regardless, I wasn’t in the mood for a nanny–already got one in the form of her nibs–or a social critic. “We’re fine!” I yelled at it. “She’s just being an ass!”

It looked at me, then at Iskaryn, who screeched at it indignantly. Then it flew off. I have no idea if it understood me or not, but the message was apparently received.

We’ve both cooled a bit, though I can feel the occasional flare of disapproval from her direction. If she had hands, she’d be wringing them. Or throwing them up. Possibly both.

She isn’t wrong about the money.

I’m not wrong about the armor.

And that’s the problem.