The Seven Markets by David Hoffman Page B

ground.
    When Cutter returned, he was not alone.
    “This is Rossi,” he said.
    “I know. The cook’s son. You’ve traveled with us for some time, haven’t you?”
    “Yes, mum,” the boy said, his voice shaking. She knew him to be a shy, wide-eyed boy who constantly snuck her extra rolls or a second glass of wine. She guessed he was a year or two younger than she’d been when the Prince first swept her away for a life of adventure and romance.
    “He’s going to accompany you in your errand. He will . . . look after you.”
    “Thank you,” Ellie said. Burdened as she was, she still managed a rough bow in the boy’s direction.
    “Mum,” he said, cheeks flushed, eyes turned down.
    “You understand?” Cutter said.
    “Yessir.”
    “And the danger?”
    “Yessir. Absolutely, sir.”
    “Good.” Cutter spared a glance at the fat moon overhead. His eyes, perhaps of their own accord, moved up to the high window of the Prince’s suites and then down to Ellie and the cook’s boy. “Rossi,” he said, as if to remind himself.
    “Captain?”
    “Nothing, nothing,” Cutter said.
    “Very good, sir. We should go then, shouldn’t we? Mum?”
    It seemed the lanky man had something he could not articulate.
    “You are always so serious,” Ellie said. “Don’t give us another thought. We’ll be back before you know it. This brave boy will be a capable escort. Go and look after my Prince.”
    “My lady,” Cutter said. He opened the door to the inn, hesitated as if he had still more to say, and then vanished within.

    Together, Ellie and the cook’s boy, Rossi, began walking. They passed through the different layers of the Market, following streets she was pleased to discover she could navigate without the slightest thought.
    The Market, of which I dreamed as a girl, is now my home. How many worlds will we see together? I know it as well as I know my own heart.
    The first of the three suns was peeking over the distant treetops as they came to the wide stone gate. Ellie paused to shift the wrapped weapons into a more comfortable position. Rossi adjusted the leather pack on his back.
    “You her?”
    Beyond the gate stood the largest man Ellie had ever seen. His shoulders were broad enough to ride on; if they’d arrived before sunrise, the gleam on his bald head could have been the moon hanging in the sky. As Ellie watched, he began growing larger and larger, towering over her as if he’d been launched up over the wall.
    And then she realized, oh my, he’s not growing. He’s standing up.
    Ellie and Rossi bowed.
    “I’s Dhaleb,” the huge man said. He himself bowed—the swoosh of air nearly knocked them off their feet—then extended a hand to Rossi in greeting.
    “Sir,” Rossi said. He looked in danger of being swallowed whole within the giant’s hand.
    “Good man. I heard what you done. Good man, you.”
    “Thank you. I—d’you have horses for us?”
    “Course,” Dhaleb said. “Tha’s the job, innit?”
    He moved to lead them away to, Ellie supposed, where their mounts were waiting. He stopped in mid-stride and looked down at himself. It gave Ellie vertigo just watching.
    “Lords!” he said. “How’d I—lords, you won’t tell, will you?”
    “Sir?”
    “M’glamour. Lords, I can’t let the townfolk see me this way. Did any, d’you think? You didn’t see anyone, did you?”
    Rossi turned his head back and forth and assured the giant they were alone out on the road. “It is still very early, sir. I do not believe anyone saw you.”
    As if on cue, Ellie heard voices approaching. A couple by the sound of it, a local couple. She moved to warn the giant but he was gone before she could even move. A second later a man and a woman, walking together but not touching, lost in private conversation, appeared from around the bend. They walked past her and Rossi without a second glance.
    “Lords, that was a close one,” Dhaleb said. “Y’won’t tell, will you? I’s usually so good, y’know,