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the tide page, but
could not read anything, except what he thought was a name: Kaorda. The book
was old, and it had been written in either Hamorian or old Cyadoran, because
Rahl would have been able to read High or Low Temple.
    He set the slim volume down and looked
sideways toward the counter behind which Fahla stood. Even from the rear, Rahl
recognized Porgryn. The fuller had a voice that would have been whining without
the gravelly tone.
    “What’s the best cheese you got for
travel? Doesn’t turn green quick, you know what I mean.”
    “The white hard cheese,” replied Fahla.
“It won’t even turn in midsummer so long as you don’t leave it in the sun. How
much would you like?”
    “Don’t want it now. Might need it later.
Nephew’s bringing a wagon of earth up from down south. It’s a long trip. Need
to provision him on the way back.”
    ‘The white cheese would be best. What
would you like for now?“
    “Ezelya said to check on needles…”
    “We set some aside for her…”
    Rahl waited until Porgryn turned to leave
before moving away from the leather goods, stepping aside as the fuller neared.
“Good day, ser.”
    “Good day, fellow.”
    While Porgryn’s words were pleasant, Rahl
sensed that the wiry fuller had no idea who Rahl was. That bothered him,
although he couldn’t say why. There was no special reason Porgryn should have
known Rahl, even though Kian had made copies of several things for the fuller,
and Rahl had been in the workroom.
    “What can I get for you, Rahl?” asked
Fahla pleasantly. Her mahogany hair was tied back with a dark blue band,
leaving her forehead looking wider than when she had worn it down at Sevien’s.
    “Nothing today. I had to come down to the
harbor, and while I was here, I thought I’d stop.”
    “I can let you have some special cheese
that Faseyn found in Extina. Half a quarter wedge for two coppers. Your mother
would like it.” The hint of a smile played around the corners of her lips. They
were good lips, not too thin and not too protruding.
    Rahl laughed. “If you were consorted,
you’d still try to sell to your consort.”
    “Of course.” She did smile, and that
softened the intensity of her eyes—for a moment. “What are you doing down
here?”
    “Delivering a letter to the portmaster to
go by ship to Austra.”
    Fahla nodded. “Do you get paid a portion
of the fee paid to the portmaster?”
    “I don’t know. Father takes care of those
details. We don’t do that often. Most folks can’t afford to send letters that
far.”
    “It’s expensive. They have a system of
couriers to do that in Hamor, Father said, and it only costs three coppers to
send a letter anywhere there.”
    Three coppers wasn’t cheap, not to Rahl,
but it was nothing compared to the two silvers Alamat had paid.
    “There’s something like that in Candar,
too, at least where the white wizards are in charge.”
    “We really don’t need it here,” Rahl
replied. “We’ve got the High Road, and you can almost always find someone to
carry a letter on it.”
    The bell on the chandlery door rang, and
Fahla looked up. “It’s Chorkeil, Rahl. Do you need anything?”
    “No, not today.” He could sense that she
was already thinking what she’d say to the new arrival. “I’ll see you later.”
He offered a smile, inclined his head, and turned.
    “Chorkeil… We have the spikes you
wanted,” Fahla began.
    Rahl nodded politely to the man although
he couldn’t say he knew him. Chorkeil ignored Rahl, not even giving him a
glance.
    The way back felt longer, although Rahl
certainly didn’t dawdle.
    He’d barely stepped into the workroom
when his father looked up.
    “That took you long enough,” Kian said
mildly.
    “I’m sorry, ser. There were three ships
in the harbor, and it was crowded. The portmaster said the letter would go on
the Suthyan trader today.” Rahl paused. “Oh, here’s the receipt.” He stepped
forward , took the paper square from his wallet, and