Kell's Legend

need to open your eyes, old man. They’re far from children. They are roses, blossoming into beauty. They are river currents, flowing out to sea.”
    Kell snorted, and dropped Saark to the floorboards. “Save your pretty words for the whores downstairs,” said Kell. “There was enough good coin in the soldiers’ saddlebags to entertain you for a week; take it. But I warn you. Keep away from the girls.”
    Saark nodded, and brushed down his roughed clothing. He coughed. Stared at Kell, tilting his head. “You finished now, Grandfather? Can I go and get some ale, and a bite to eat? Or would you like to offer a sermon on further corruption and impurity in the world?”
    Kell nodded, and Saark moved back to the room. Kell stood, waiting, and Kat emerged, eyes lowered, and hurried into Nienna’s room. Kell followed her, retrieving his pack and axe. “I’ll meet you down in the common room for food, in about twenty minutes. Aye?”
    “Yes, Grandfather,” said Nienna. Kat said nothing.
    Kell grunted and left.
    “How dare he!” raged Kat, a few moments later.
    “Shh, he might hear!”
    “Damn him, damn him to hell, I don’t care! I don’t need his protection! I don’t need him treating me like his granddaughter, because I’m not, and I’ve looked after myself far too long to begin adopting an overzealous guardian now!”
    “He…only means well,” said Nienna.
    “Rubbish! He’s jealous! He sees my young limbs, my hips, my ripe breasts, and he wishes he could have a slice of my rich fruit pie. Well, he can’t.”
    Nienna stared at Kat, then. She shook her head. “That’s horse-shit, Katrina.”
    “Maybe so. But Saark says I’m beautiful, and I could take my pick of Jevaiden, Salakarr, Yuill or Anvaresh; and I could make money, lots of money, with my beauty.”
    “By doing what?”
    “I could be a dancer, or escort rich men to the theatre. Saark said they pay a lot of good money to have a beautiful young woman on their arm.”
    “And in their bed,” snapped Nienna. “Are you really that foolish? You’d be little more than a whore!”
    “Maybe that’s what I want!” stormed Kat, her temper escalating, her fists clenching. “At least it’d be my choice!”
    At that moment Saark entered, and stood, smiling at the two women. He was transformed. He wore a fine silk shirt of yellow, with ruffled collar and cuffs of white cotton; he wore rich green trousers made from panels of velvet, high black leather boots, and his long curled hair had been oiled and was scrapedback into a loose ponytail. He looked every inch the ravishing dandy, the court noble fop, the friend of royalty. He smiled, and a rich perfume invaded the room, a musky scent of flowers and herbs.
    Kat whirled, and her temper died. She smiled at Saark. “You look…ravishing!” she said.
    “Where did you get the clothes?” asked Nienna.
    “I bought them. From a clothes merchant. I make contacts fast, especially when I enter a new town looking like a diseased cesspit cleaner.”
    “Kell said for us to keep a low profile.”
    Saark grinned. “This is me keeping a low profile.”
    “But,” said Nienna, choosing her words tactfully, “you look extremely, um, wealthy. And the smell! What is that smell?”
    “The perfume of gentry,” said Saark. “Popinjay’s Musk. It’s expensive. Well, ladies, I’m waiting to eat.”
    “We need to change,” said Nienna. “Or at least, to beat the dust from our clothes.”
    “Wait there,” said Saark.
    He disappeared, with Nienna and Kat frowning at one another. When he returned, he carried two dresses, one of yellow, one of blue. Both were silk, richly embroidered, and Nienna and Kat clasped their hands together in wonder.
    “Saark!” said Nienna. “I don’t believe it!”
    “They’re beautiful,” beamed Kat, walking around Saark, her hand reaching out, almost timidly, to touch the silk.
    “Only the finest clothes, for such beauty,” he said, grinning, his eyes shining, lips moist.
    “But we can’t wear them,” said Nienna, suddenly, smile dropping, lip coming out a little. “Kell wouldn’t approve.”
    “To hell with the old goat. You’ve been to the Pits of Daragan and back; you deserve a little pampering. I surely couldn’t let you go downstairs to eat wearing those tattered rags. It would be…indecent!”
    “Thank you, thank you,” said Kat, eyes shining.
    “Get dressed. I’ll meet you down there.”
    “Did you get anything for Kell?”
    “No. If he wishes