Dame du Nedal smiled at us and said, “You want that honey-apple bacon, don’t you?”
“My mouth is already watering,” I said.
“Yours and everyone else’s. You can almost smell it from here. They’re frying it up two rows over and north. Hurry before it’s gone, now.”
We thanked her and dashed between wagons, turned to our right, and spotted the line. We joined it gladly and knew it would keep growing. The du Lörryls had found a farmer somewhere upstream from Göfyrd who made the world’s best bacon and furthermore dealt exclusively with them. They got premium prices for it, and deservedly so. We always bought some at every clave and never held on to enough of it to resell, though Father claimed every year he was going to buy five stone of it and make a fortune marking it up.
“You smell that, Jorry?” I said. We both took obnoxiously loud, deep whiffs of the air, making little wafting gestures with our hands around our noses. “Smells like bacon.” And money. And earth ready for replanting. And perfect contentment, that sublime moment when you’re at peak anticipation for something and you know you’ll get it soon. I often think that moment is better in some ways than getting the thing itself: it’s the awareness of your own joy at being alive and that the gods of all the kennings have blessed us, even those of us who never seek a kenning.
The couple in front of us were strangers and we gave them tight smiles of greeting, but Mella du Bandre came along a few seconds later and joined the line behind us. Her family was coastal like ours, working between Setyrön and Gönerled, and we competed in a friendly manner with them for customers in Setyrön. She had a hug for me and a shy smile for Jorry. His smile in return was a bit goofy as he stammered out a hello, and I could see already that this present awkwardness would be fertile ground for future teasing. I take my sisterly teasing duties very seriously because it’s so much fun.
Mella had grown up and filled out a bit since last I saw her, so it’s no wonder that Jorry noticed. She had pretty eyes and a quick wit that I’d always appreciated. If Jorry managed to win her consent, I’m sure both of our families would be delighted to see them matched.
“How have the tides treated you?” Mella asked. “Wash up anything interesting?”
“Yes, but why do you ask?” I said, because I sensed it wasn’t a casual query. “Have you seen anything strange?”
Mella nodded, “Yes, but you go first.”
Jorry caught my eye and gave a tiny shake of his head. Perhaps he didn’t think I should share the fact that we had been robbed. But it was only a map, not our entire inventory. And if there had been more people like that strange woman—Motah or whatever her name was—I wanted to know about it.
“The tides brought us a very tall woman who looked like she was starving.”
Mella gasped. “A woman! We saw two different men, also very tall, and we could see their ribs. And strange skin.”
“Strange how?”
“We couldn’t tell if they were pale with sunburned skin or just naturally kind of reddish.”
“It was the same with the woman we saw!”
“Did she have a little boat?”
“Yes, though we didn’t get a good look at it.”
“Did you understand anything she said?”
“No. What about the men?”
Mella shrugged. “We had no idea what they were talking about.”
“Did they buy anything?”
“No, but I don’t think they had any money. They were almost naked.” Her eyes flicked to Jorry. “Was she naked?”
Jorry’s face was priceless. Panic and indecision and then a silent plea to me to save him from speaking.
“Mostly,” I answered. “She seemed to be lost.”
“Same with the men. Makes me wonder if there was a shipwreck out there somewhere and they were the only survivors.”
“Did you show them a map?”
“We didn’t have one.”
Jorry found his voice. “Any idea where they might have been from?”
“No; that was the weird thing. If you assume they were sunburned pale people, that means they had to be Hathrim or Fornish. But they didn’t look or speak like either one.”
“You’re sure they weren’t Hathrim?”
“Quite sure. My brother speaks their language fluently, and he didn’t recognize a word they said.”
My initial excitement and wonder at finding someone else who’d run into the strange people turned into uncertainty and a touch of worry. “Do you think we should be telling