The Silent Dragon: Children of The Dragon Nimbus #1 by Irene Radford Read Free Book Online

“And the draw the day before?” She nibbled her lower lip nervously, not caring that it revealed her overhanging upper teeth.
    “Honestly fought. You learned as much about my faults as I did yours. I applaud you for taking your lessons seriously and not accepting victory as your due.”
    Linda smiled genuinely this time. As they crossed the bridge onto Market Isle, she did not drop his arm at the first opportunity to examine some fine silk cloth from the big continent to the northeast of Coronnan.
    While Miri and Chastet cooed over bolts of silky greens with silver brocade, she half-listened to the voices around her. The sounds blended into excited babbles and serious bartering. None of the discontent the lords had hinted at. This portion of Market Isle displayed luxury goods sold by wealthy merchants with permanent storefronts. The gossip here would revolve around the court and scandalous activities of the nobles. If she wanted the truth, she needed to go farther afield.
    “What did you want to show me, Master Lucjemm?”
    “On the far side of the island, closest to the Bay and farthest from the city islands,” he said quietly. His glance noted how absorbed Miri and Chastet had become with the luscious fabrics. Gentle pressure of his arm guided Linda away from them.
    She resisted, leaning close to Miri’s ear. “Remember to listen for gossip about a drought, or unrest among the people.
    Miri nodded slightly.
    “You may wander off with him,” Miri replied, cocking her head ever so slightly toward Lucjemm. “We will not be far behind.”
    “Let him think he’s won a victory over you in getting you away from us,” Chastet muttered, barely moving her lips.
    Linda swallowed her smile.
    Curiosity and a need for adventure gave Linda the courage to step away from her ladies and follow Lucjemm. She knew they’d stay out of sight but close-at-hand should Lucjemm become overly familiar.
    Chatting amiably, they wandered the maze of shops and open stalls. Linda tried to memorize the path they took, but quickly abandoned the task as hopeless. Chastet would remember. But how lost could she get on an island of seven acres? All she had to do was follow the river upstream to the next bridge.
    As they progressed, the aisles and alleys became narrower, the cobbles less firm with wider gaps between them. The permanent store buildings became fewer; temporary stalls and tents dominated, and they became smaller, less gaudy, more tattered. The goods they offered grew less costly, less desirable, more used and less new.
    Accents varied from the sharp clatter of Southern rural reaches to the lilting singsong of foreign ports. Then one voice cut through the cacophony. “Rivers to the south running higher than normal spring runoff. But here, can hardly get a canoe through some of the island passages.”
    That didn’t sound right. Linda craned her neck to look at the River Coronnan, the lifeblood of the continent. Too many people and buildings stood between her and the water. Later. On the way home she’d peer more closely at the water levels beneath the bridges.
    Linda glanced around for traces of Miri and Chastet keeping close under the guise of fingering a frayed ribbon or gaudy painted metal cosmetics jar. There. To her right she caught a flash of green brocade, the same color as Miri’s gown.
    Finally, she and Lucjemm fetched up before a plain canvas tent a little larger than its neighbors, a little cleaner, but still not as fine as the ones left behind nearer the city islands and bridges.
    “What could you possibly want here?” Linda asked, almost afraid to examine the lackluster gems, tarnished metal pots, and threadbare cloth.
    “This,” Lucjemm said, picking up a black wooden box the size of a loaf of bread. The boards looked clean and polished. The lid had been inlaid with other colors of wood, also polished to a smooth and gleaming surface. It surpassed all the other goods in a ten-tent radius in quality, and probably in