Free The Exile and the Sorcerer by Jane Fletcher Page A

at the corner of her mouth. In a jerk, she cracked his hand down on the table and released her grip. The audience exploded in uproar.
    “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Tevi asked, suddenly contrite that she had overdone the force.
    The man held out his hand to examine his knuckles. The skin was unbroken but showing red. His expression was one of utter bewilderment. His friends muttered among themselves. For a moment, Tevi wondered if he would make trouble, but then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
    With a beaming smile, he pointed at her tankard and asked, “What do you want to drink?”

Chapter Four—Torhafn by Night

    By the time she left the Silver Mermaid, it was far later than Tevi had intended, and as her feet stumbled on uneven cobbles, she realised she had drunk slightly more than was wise.
    Night had fallen, and doors were locked and shuttered, but the narrow, rubbish-filled streets were not deserted. Surly individuals posed aggressively at intersections, faces lost in shadow. Drunken gangs of youths jostled in the torchlight, their voices erupting in shouts as they spotted friends or rivals. One fight broke out as Tevi passed, but no one attempted to waylay her.
    Derag was right to say she was acquiring a name in Torhafn. She had been pleased about it—trouble left her alone. However, as that night’s challenge had shown, notoriety could also attract attention. So far, her reputation had not gone beyond the circle of quay and market, but if the gang bosses heard, there might well be attempts at recruitment or elimination. Worrying though it was, that danger could be dealt with when it happened. Right now, Tevi had to get safely back to her boat. She straightened her shoulders and walked purposefully through the darkened town.
    The east wharf, with its houseboats, was one of the more depressing parts of a generally depressing town. The poverty, both material and spiritual, was sharply visible. Few of the boats were seaworthy. Many were little more than lashed-together rafts with flimsy shacks tacked precariously on top. The area swarmed with rats and other vermin, some of it two-legged. Rubbish floated in what little scum-covered water could be seen between the jostling boats. Everywhere were wide-eyed children, ragged and hungry.
    The inhabitants formed a tightly knit community, spending the whole day in and out of one another’s boats. Tevi had given up trying to make sense of their family structure, deciding that it was either nonexistent or so complex as to be incomprehensible to the outsider.
    Throughout the day, the air was filled with shouting. People seemed to need to conduct their lives at high volume to compensate for the other deficiencies. At night, Tevi would lie in her boat, listening to the sounds of cold water slopping against the hull, creaking timber and the dull knock of wood on wood as boats rolled together. The only human sounds would be a baby crying or the distant shrieking of domestic strife. She desperately wished she were somewhere else, but in Torhafn, she had a mooring and an income, for the summer at least. Perhaps autumn would be a good time to move on.
    Tevi paused and looked back along the squalid, filthy street. There was little she would miss about the town. Eventually, she emerged from the smothering crush of houses onto the open dockside. The usual assortment of people was visible in the pools of light from oil-soaked torches. Guards patrolled the warehouses; vagrants curled in corners; and a few drunk sailors staggered by the whores trying to attract their attention. Farther down the quay, dockers were loading a ship, working into the night so the vessel could depart on the dawn tide.
    Tevi passed a lamp that smoked and guttered in the offshore wind. She stood on the pockmarked flagstones and breathed in deeply. The rising moon reflected off bands of luminous surf. The sound of the waves was gentle, calming, and somehow honest.
    Tevi resumed her march along