The lion comparison was seeming more and more apt. Hakon crept over to the house, launched himself silently onto the roof like it was nothing, then crouched, waiting to pounce. Ajax waited until Hakon was in place to clamber down off the boulder himself. With shorter legs and less experience, he made a hash of it, slipping and falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
He kept his mouth shut, though noise didn’t matter at this point. He wasn’t aiming for stealth, but boldly walking up to the door. Well, boldly perhaps implies a courage Ajax lacked, but he tried to think bold thoughts in any case. The scratches he got on his hands and face lent some authenticity to his story, along with the wine stains. Perhaps that might help.
Ajax knocked on the door firmly, only to be greeted with a dull thud and a sore hand. He’d forgotten that Hakon had guessed it to be stone, painted to look like wood. Hakon had been correct. Ajax cursed under his breath, but still called out politely.
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am.” he said, loud enough to be heard through the door. “I’m searching for a potter and the girl at the store in town sent me here.”
All true, no lies yet. He heard footsteps and then the door opened and there she was, smaller than she’d seemed through the window. Most women in Radenor looked Ajax in the eye, but this one was a full head shorter, with round cheeks, blond curly hair pulled back into a messy bun, and flour on her apron. Every inch of her screamed ‘mother,’ down to the full, attractive figure that even Ajax had to notice, though there was no sign of any children here.
When she opened the door she initially looked suspicious but a quick glance at Ajax put a friendly smile on her face. Mothers were especially vulnerable to the handsome young sheep, even if this woman merely looked the part.
“Aye, I’m a potter. How can I help you lad?”
Ajax put on his saddest face and told his story, this time with a lot more detail. He didn’t hesitate to tell the lies, though perhaps he would have if he’d been a more honest person. He was very aware that Hakon was listening and wanted to show him he could make a real contribution, even in a way Hakon probably found contemptible.
“So you see, ma’am,” he said as he finished his false tale of woe, “if you can’t help me I’m in a lot of trouble. That cartload of wine is worth five years of my wages as an apprentice. My master said if we lose it on my account, he’ll drag me over the border to Daravin and sell me as a slave to pay off the debt. I believe him too. Can you come patch up the jars? The cart is just up the road.”
“Please,” he added in a mournful tone, laying it on rather thick.
She hesitated, but not for long. Brushing the flour off her hands, she sighed. “Yes, very well. Hold on a moment.”
She turned and went into the house, giving Ajax a clear look for the first time. If the exterior was meant to be unobtrusive, the interior gave the game away. It was simply stunning. There was glassware and pottery of the finest quality covering every surface and stacked high in the corners. And there were statues too, so lifelike they seemed about to move. Fell didn’t make statues. He also wasn’t stupid. This woman might as well have hung out a shingle that said “Mage for Hire.” Foolish. Ajax had little sympathy for that.
The mage emerged a moment later with a bucket full of clay slip and a roll, which must have been fresh from the oven because it burned Ajax’s hand when she handed it to him.
“Thank you,” he said as she turned to lock the door. He couldn’t eat, not even to sell his story more effectively. He was too on edge. Hakon would jump at any moment. Ajax took a few steps away, trying to put a little distance between himself and the woman before that happened.
