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“Oh, let us not be formal,” he urged, while he folded his height downward. She perched on the workbench and swung her feet in unladylike wise; but then, she was an artisan, in what was considered a man’s occupation. “I require cups, dishes, pots of attractive style; and you, no doubt, will be glad of the sale.”

Lena nodded, with less eagerness than she would ordinarily have felt. Feeling his gaze searching her yet, she forced herself to tease: “What, have you broken that much? And why have you not sent your maidservant or your son?”

“I felt I had better choose the articles myself,” Jans explained. “See you, I have decided on renting out the new house, but its bareness has seemed to repel what few prospective tenants have appeared.”

“The new house?”

“Have you forgotten? Ah, well, it was years ago. My wife and I bought it, thinking we would move thither as soon as we could sell the old one. But the war came, and her death, and these lean days. I can no longer afford the staff so large a place would demand, only my single housekeeper. The taxes on it are a vampire drain, and no one who wants it can afford to buy it. I’ve posted my offer on every market board and

FAIRY GOLD

17

had it cried aloud through every street—without result. So at last my hopes are reduced to becoming a landlord.”

“Oh, yes, I do recall. Let’s pick you out something pretty, then.”

Still Lona could not muster any sparkle. Jans stroked his bald pate. “What hurts you, my dear?” he asked in a most gentle tone.

She snapped after air. “You . .. may as well hear … now. Soon it will be common knowledge. Arvel and I … have parted.”

“What? But this is terrible. How? Why?”

“He—he will not be sensible. He cannot confess … to himself… that Sir Falcovan Roncitar’s fleet is going to sail beyond the sunset without him—” Lona fought her wish to weep, or to smash something. She stared at her fingers, where they wrestled in her lap. “When that happens … I dread what may become of him. We could, could survive together … in this trade … and today I told him we must . .. b-because the father of my children shall not be a drunken idler—And he—O-o-oh!” She turned her wail into an oath and ended bleakly: “I wish him luck. He’ll need it.”

In his awkward fashion, Jans went to her and patted her shoulder. “Poor lass, you’ve never fared on a smooth road, have you?” he murmured. “A child when you lost your mother; and your father perforce made you his helper; and when he too wended hence, there was no better inheritance for you than this.”

Lona lifted her head. “It’s not a bad little shop. It keeps me alive. It could keep a family.”

18

The Unicorn Trade

Jans winced. She saw, and welcomed the chance to escape from herself. “What pains you?” she demanded. “It’s your turn for telling.”

He stood aside from her. His back sagged, while a sad little smile tugged his lips upward. “Oh, an irony,” he replied. “The single form of humor the gods know, I believe.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Quite simple, ‘tis. Hark,” He confronted her. “When for a time it appeared that Arvel might indeed sail off to the New Lands, and you with him as his bride, were you not also ablaze? Be honest; we speak in confidence.”

“Well—” She swallowed. “Not in his way. I would have been sorry to forsake this my home for a wilderness. Nonetheless, I was ready to go for his sake, even if I must sell out at a great loss. And in truth, I would have welcomed such a chance to better ourselves and bequeath a good life to our children.” She spread her empty hands. “Of course, I knew from the first it was likeliest a will-o’-the-wisp. He would have had to borrow the sum required, and where, without security? His father’s estate entailed. Nobody who might desire this shop and cottage is able to pay a reasonable price, wherefore they are just as unmortgageable. After he tried, and failed, I besought him to settle down here and at least earn a steady living; but there it was I who failed.”