Fairs' Point by Melissa Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

day’s chores, and reached for paper and pen.
     
    The basket lurched and barked in his arms all the way through Point of Hearts and across the Hopes’ Point bridge and into Point of Dreams. It was still barking, though more hoarsely, as he climbed the stairs to the rooms he shared with Rathe. The little dog threw himself back and forth against the woven vines, and Eslingen wasn’t surprised when the door opened.
    “ Philip? What in Astree’s name?”
    Eslingen saw his face change as the details registered, and no dded, grimly. “Yes, I’m back from the redistribution.”
    Rathe stepped out of the doorway. “A basket terrier?”
    “ No, it’s a magic basket that barks and shakes.”
    Rathe took it from him, and Eslingen latched the door as the other man began to unwind the cords that kept the lid secur ely in place. “She—he?—will be better once she’s out of there.”
    “ He, I think,” Eslingen said. “Its name’s Sunflower.”
    The basket convulsed as Rathe loosened the last knot, and the lid popped off with a shrill yap. Sunflower poked head and shoulders above the rim, then leaped up and out, landing on the table where Rathe had been working. He swore again, and caught the dog before he could do any more damage, se tting him back on the floor. He barked again, almost in admonition, and set off to explore at full speed.
    “ That’s what they gave you,” Rathe said.
    Eslingen spread his hands. “De Calior paid seven pillars for him as a puppy. Or, rather, didn’t pay.” He gave the dog a dubious look as he disappeared under the bed. “He seems fast enough.”
    Rathe nodded, though Eslingen thought he was suppressing a smile. ”Has he raced?”
    “ Not yet. I gather he’s only just old enough this season.”
    Sunflower emerged from under the bed, dust on his sleek coat and trailing from his whiskers, and Eslingen stared hel plessly at him.
    “ What are you going to do with him?” Rathe asked.
    “ I haven’t the faintest idea.”
    Rathe cocked his head. “Someone’s annoyed you. How much did she offer?”
    “ Three pillars,” Eslingen said. “And it was a he.” And probably it had been foolish, but he’d taken a dislike to the man.
    “ Well, you won’t get any more than that, and probably less, if you try to sell him now,” Rathe said. “Not when everyone has their kennel in place already. You could always race him, I suppose. Mind you, that would mean laying out some more money for the trainers, but if he wins, you might get a decent bit more for him. Or hire him out at stud—he is intact, right?”
    Eslingen looked at the short-furred hindquarters, elevated as the dog tried to dig his way under the clothes press. “Unmistakably.”
    “ But of course if he doesn’t win, what you’ve got is a nice dog.” Rathe shook his head. “Probably best to sell him now.”
    Eslingen crossed to the cabinet beside the stove and poured hi mself a glass of beer, feeling that he’d earned it. “I don’t know. It’s not like I have the money in hand now. Why not race him, see what he does?”
    “ It’s a risk,” Rathe said. “And you’d have to find a trainer willing to take him on at this late date, or else pay to house him until at least the fall meets. All of that costs.”
    “ I imagine I could make a deal with a trainer to share the winnings if she shares the costs,” Eslingen said. It was always amusing to see Rathe’s southriver thrift make an appearance. “At least, horse trainers are usually willing. That would cut the expenses.”
    “ It’s possible,” Rathe said. “Do you have any idea whether he might be any good? Horoscope, pedigree, anything like that?”
    “ I’ve got both,” Eslingen answered, and dug in the cuff of his coat for the packet of papers. “But I couldn’t make head or tail of them.”
    “ It’s a specialized business,” Rathe said. “It’s a pity Beier’s gone missing, he’d have been the man to look at them for you, though he’d have