Free Wild Blood (Book 7) by Anne Logston Page B

spent the night listening to the stories of their travels and nibbling sweets they’d brought from faraway cities. By morning, Ria had traded her silk scarf with the gold embroidery, plus the matching slippers, for a chirrit pup from the litter of one of the children’s pets. As soon as she’d seen the fuzzy, tumbling pups, as curious and full of energy as Ria herself, Ria had known she had to have one; Lady Rivkah had told her that Chyrie, Ria’s mother, had had a chirrit, so of course Ria should have one, too.
    Lady Rivkah, however, was less delighted with Ria’s new acquisition the next morning.
    “Oh, Ria, don’t you think we’re going to have enough trouble in the new city without pets to watch out for?” she asked, dismayed when she saw the strange little creature peering out of Ria’s pocket.
    “He won’t be any trouble,” Ria said defensively. “They told me how to take care of him. I’ll feed him and keep him out of the way.”
    Surprisingly, it was Lord Sharl who came to Ria’s rescue, picking the little animal out of her pocket and stroking its large, tufted ears gently, chuckling as the chirrit clasped his finger in its tiny, hand-like paws and chirp-whirred with contentment at the attention.
    “I suppose a little thing like this can’t eat all that much, and he could hardly be more bother than you are by yourself, Ria,” he said with a smile. “What did you trade for him?”
    “Well—” Ria squirmed. “My red scarf.”
    Lord Sharl gazed at her sternly, but his eyes twinkled suspiciously. “And?”
    “And the slippers,” Ria admitted.
    Lady Rivkah groaned, and Lord Sharl snorted with laughter.
    “That scarf and those slippers must’ve been worth a good twenty-five Suns, maybe more,” he said, shaking his head, “and that chirrit pup wasn’t worth more than six or seven, even to a mage needing a familiar. You’ll have to learn better bargaining than that as the High Lady of a large trade city. Well, it was your first lesson, and a poor bargain’s no crime. Let the child be, Rivkah. She’s been lonely enough these years, and she’ll be lonelier still as the High Lady of a half-empty city still being rebuilt.”
    “Well, you were lucky,” Cyril commented in an undertone, settling down beside Ria in the wagon.
    “I know,” Ria said happily. Poor bargain or no, she couldn’t have been more pleased. Now she’d never have to wear the irritating scarf or slippers again. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
    “I mean you’re lucky Father’s talks with the merchants went so well last night,” Cyril chuckled. “If he hadn’t been in such a good mood this morning, you’d probably have gotten punished instead. At least you could’ve traded for something useful instead of an animal only a mage might need. They had some hunting hound pups that looked to be a good bloodline.”
    “Then you should have traded for one, instead of spending your evening sitting by the fire,” Ria retorted without rancor. Cyril was only jealous, she was sure, that Ria had managed to acquire such a marvelous little creature.
    The chirrit pup was so young that Ria carried it in the front of her tunic despite Cyril’s joke that it was long past time she had something there. He was an odd-looking little creature with round, wondering eyes, large tufted ears, and remarkably hand-like paws. His fluffy squirrel-like tail was amazingly dexterous and strong, able to wind firmly around Ria’s upper arm or, unfortunately, her throat to keep himself steady on her shoulder. He seemed to eat just about anything Ria would—meat, fruit, tubers, bread, cheese, sweets—and even Lady Rivkah was amused by the way he ate, clasping morsels of food securely in his little paws as he sat and nibbled, his bright, intelligent-looking eyes darting around as if to ascertain whether anyone nearby might have something more appetizing to offer. Soon even the roughest guard was saving choice tidbits for Ria’s pet.
    The plains