| They were doing Rauder's "Song of Love," a piece rather predictably requested by the wine-merchant's wife, a piece Devin had been singing for nearly six years, a song he could manage in a stupor, a coma, sound asleep
And so perhaps, yes, he'd been a little bored, a little distracted, had been leaning a little closer than absolutely necessary to their newest, red-headed female singer, putting perhaps the merest shading of a message into his expression and voice, but still, even so
"Devin, in the name of the Triad," had snapped Catriana d'Astibar, breaking up the rehearsal entirely, "do you think you can get your mind away from your groin for long enough to do a decent harmony? This is not a difficult song!"
The affliction of a fair complexion had hurtled Devin's face all the way to bright redMenico, he saw, Menico who should have been sharply reprimanding the girl for her presumption, was laughing helplessly, even more flushed than Devin wasSo were the others, all of them
Unable to think of a reply, unwilling to compromise the tattered shreds of his dignity by yielding to his initial impulse to reach up and chanel white bucket handbag whack the girl across the back of her head, Devin had simply spun on his heels and left
He'd thrown one reproachful glance at Menico as he went but was not assuaged: the troupe-leader's ample paunch was quivering with laughter as he wiped tears from his round, bearded face
So Devin had gone looking for a bottle of Senzio green and a dark place to drink it in on a brilliant autumn morning in AstibarHaving finally found the wine and the tenuous comfort of shadows he fully expected to figure out, about half a bottle from now, what he should have said to that arrogant red-maned creature back in the rehearsal room
If only she wasn't so depressingly tall, he thoughtMorosely he filled his glass againLooking up at the blackened crossbeams of the ceiling he briefly contemplated hanging himself from one of them: by the heels of course
"Shall I buy you a drink?" someone said
With a sigh Devin turned to cope with one of the more predictable aspects of being small and looking very young while drinking alone in a sailor's bar
What he saw was somewhat reassuringHis questioner was a soberly dressed man of middle years with greying low price prada bags hair and lines of worry or laughter radiating at his templesEven so:
"Thank you," Devin said, "but I've most of my own bottle left and I prefer having a woman to being one for sailorsI'm also older than I look
The other man laughed aloud"In that case," he chuckled, genuinely amused, "you can give me a drink if you like while I tell you about my two marriageable daughters and the other two who are on their way to that age sooner than I'm ready forI'm Rovigo d'Astibar, master of the Sea Maid just in from down the coast in Tregea
Devin grinned and stretched across the bar for another glass: The Bird was far too crowded to bother trying to catch the owner's rheumy eye, and Devin had his own reasons for not wanting to signal the man
"I'll be happy to share the bottle with you," he said to Rovigo, "though your wife is unlikely to be well pleased if you press your daughters upon a traveling musician
"My wife," said Rovigo feelingly, "would turn ponderous cartwheels of delight if I brought home a cowherd from the Certandan grasslands for the oldest one"That bad?" he murmuredWe can at least drink to your safe return buy chanel bag from Tregea, and in time for Festival by a fingernailI'm Devin d'Asoli bar Garin, at your service
"And I at yours, friend Devin, not-as-young-as-you-lookDid you have trouble getting a drink?" Rovigo asked shrewdly
"I was in and out of more doorways than Morian of Portals knows, and as dry when I left as when I'd entered Devin rashly sniffed the heavy air; even among the odors of the crowd and despite the lack of windows, the tannery stench from outside was still painfully discernible"This would not have been my first or my tenth choice as a place for drinking a flask of wineWill I seem eccentric if I tell you I always come straight here when the Sea Maid is home from a voyage? Somehow the smell speaks of land to me
"You don't like the sea?"
"I am quite convinced that any man who says he does is lying, has debts on land, or a shrewish wife to escape from and?" He paused, pretending to have been suddenly struck by a thought"Come to think of it he added with exaggerated reflectiveness
Devin laughed aloud and poured them both more wine"Why do you sail then?"
"Trade is good," Rovigo said frankly"The Maid is small chanel messenger bags enough to slip into ports down the coast or around on the western side of Senzio or Ferraut that the bigger traders never bother withShe's also quick enough to make it worth my while running south past the mountains to QuileiaIt isn't sanctioned, of course, with the trade embargo down there, but if you have contacts in a remote enough place and you don't dawdle about your business it isn't too risky and there's a profit to be madeI can take Barbadian spices from the market here, or silk from the north, and get them to places in Quileia that would never otherwise see such thingsI bring back carpets, or Quileian wood carvings, slippers, jeweled daggers, sometimes casks of buinath to sell to the taverns, whatever's going at a good priceI can't do volume so I have to watch my margins, but there's a living in it as long as insurance stays down and Adaon of the Waves keeps me afloatI go from here to the god's temple before heading home
"But here first," Devin smiled They touched glasses and drained them
"What's news in Quileia?" he asked
"As a matter of fact, I was just there," Rovigo said"Tregea was a stop on the way dolce and gabbana bags |
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