An hour later Fulcris was on his way back to the remnant of the caravan and
Esaria was introducing Strick to her second cousin. Then she took her leave to buy something or other to prove to her father that shopping had indeed been her goal.
“And what about the report those dangerous-looking bodyguards give him?” Strick asked, smiling a little.
“Oh, they tell him what I tell them to tell him. They do exactly as I tell them.”
Strick thought this an opportune time to say, “I am not that sort of man,
Esaria.”
White teeth flashed and dimples sprang into bold evidence. “Can’t I just see that, 0 Mysterious Foreigner!” And with a wave, she was gone.
Still smiling that close-mouthed smile of his, Strick turned to her Second
Cousin Cusharlain.
“Second Cousin Esaria is… taken with you, Strick.”
“I know. That’s why you just heard me warn her. I am being careful, Cusharlain, and not encouraging your noble and wealthy cousin’s dotter, believe me. Now let me tell you a little about my plans, and the sort of information I need.”
Confident that Cusharlain was working on his behalf, Strick wandered. Passing snatches of conversation informed a tourist who used his ears as well as his eyes.
Carrying a bag formed of a dirty sheet trailing dirty laundry, he studied the palace while Beysin guards studied him with little interest. He went on his way, and soon bought a third armband. When it would not fit around his upper arm, he was apologetic about returning it. The “protectors” chuckled after him as the foreigner, apparently chicken-hearted for all his size, went on his way. Having strolled to the very end of Governor’s Walk, he had a look at Sanctuary’s main temples. He noted destruction, and the busy work of reconstruction. No, he learned, there was no Temple of the Flame or any kind of fire in Sanctuary.