‘Rosa told me that you’d had a run in with Haligon, too?’
‘Yes, I did,’ Cleve said, seizing on the subject and trying to disentangle himself. ‘Ran me down on the Boll trace six sevendays ago. Got a nasty sprain out of it. Rosa mentioned he pushed you into sticklebush and you had some mean slivers. Caught you on the hill curve, did he?’
Tenna turned up her hands to show the mottled sliver pricks still visible from that encounter.
‘How terrible!’ Felisha said insincerely. ‘That boy’s far too reckless.’
‘Indeed,’ Tenna said, not liking this girl at all, though she smiled amiably. Surely she was too heavyset to be a runner. Her mop of hair covered whatever hall or hold cords she might be wearing. Tenna turned to Cleve. ‘Spacia told me that you know a lot about the local leathers and I need new shoes.’
‘Don’t they tan hides wherever you come from?’ Felisha asked snidely.
‘Station 97, isn’t it?’ Cleve said, grinning. ‘Come, I’ve a mind to look for new leathers myself and the bigger the Gather the more chance at a good price, right?’ He brushed free of Felisha and, taking Tenna by the arm, propelled her across to the door.
Tenna had a brief glance at the furious look on Felisha’s face as they made their escape.
‘Thank you, Tenna,’ Cleve said, exhaling with exaggeration as they strode across the court to the Gather Square. ‘That girl’s a menace.’
‘Is she a Boll runner? She didn’t introduce herself.’
Cleve chuckled. ‘No, she’s Weaver Hall,’ he said dismissively, ‘but my station runs messages for her CraftMaster.’ He grimaced.
‘Tenna?’ Torlo called from the door and they both stopped, allowing him to catch up with them.
‘Anyone point out Haligon to you yet?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Rosa and Spacia did. He was behind the Lord Holder. I’ll have a word with him when we meet.’
‘Good girl, good girl,’ Torlo said, pressing her arm firmly in encouragement and then he returned to the station.
‘Will you?’ Cleve asked, eyes wide with surprise.
‘Will I what? Give him what-for? Indeed I will,’ Tenna said, firming her mind with purpose. ‘A bit of what he gave me.’
‘I thought it was sticklebushes you fell into?’ Cleve asked, taking it all literally. ‘There’re none of those in a Square.’
‘Measuring his length on a Gather floor will do nicely, I think,’ she replied. It ought to be rather easy to trip someone up with such a crowd around. And she had committed herself rather publicly to giving this Haligon a visible lesson. Even Healer Beveny was helping her. She was obliged to act. She certainly didn’t wish to lose respect in the station. She took a deep breath. Would tripping him be sufficient? At least on the personal level. There’d still be the charge of reckless behaviour levelled against him with the healer-verified proof of her injuries. These had certainly kept her from running for three days – loss of income.
‘Oh!’ she said, seeing the display for fabrics draped on the Weaver Hall booth: brilliant colours, and floral prints, as well as stripes in both bold and muted colours. She put her hands behind her back because the temptation to finger the cloth was almost irresistible.
Cleve wrinkled his nose. ‘That’s Felisha’s hall’s stuff.’
‘Oh, that red is amazing. . .’
‘Yeah, it’s a good hall . . .’
‘In spite of her?’ And Tenna chuckled at his reluctant admission.
‘Yes . . .’ and he grinned ruefully.
They passed the GlassCraft display: mirrors with ornate frames and plain wood; goblets and drinking glasses in all shapes and colours, pitchers in all sizes.
Tenna caught a reflection and almost didn’t recognize herself except for that fact that there was Cleve beside her. She straightened her shoulders and smiled back at the unfamiliar girl in the glass.
The next stand was a large Tailor Hall display with finished goods in tempting array, dresses, shirts, trousers, and more intimate garments: enticing merchandise to be sure and this one was already packed out with buyers.
‘What’s keeping Rosa?’ Cleve asked, glancing back over his shoulder towards the station which would be visible until they turned the corner.