“Does that happen?” asked Isra. She kept her voice level, but the
thought of it made her heart beat a bit faster. There could be
“Every now and then,” said Alfric. “You hear stories. Usually it’s younger groups that go places that are too tough for them. Sometimes there’s an uproar, and people try to put a stop to it. The League does help stop the worst of it, but they’re a bit of a trivial roadblock. Between the entads and the ectads, there’s too much profit to be had. We made out well in terms of rings, but the things we sold will almost immediately turn into profit for the people we sold them to, to the tune of twenty to thirty percent. They’d no more shut down the dungeons than they would shut down the mines or stop the foresters from chopping trees or—well, I hope you get the point.”
“There’s nothing from the dungeons that people need to live,” said Isra.
She was thinking of her own trade, hunting. If she was forced to stop,
it would mean less meat in the village, and people
“Well, yes and no,” said Alfric. “Strictly speaking, I suppose you’re right, but those pipes we took from the dungeon will be used to make waterstones, and without those, people would be reduced to drinking well water or river water.”
“I drink water from the stream,” said Isra.
“Oh, well,” said Alfric. “Is that… safe?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” asked Isra. She was getting that tight feeling, like she’d once again said something wrong.
“Disease, I thought,” said Alfric.
“In the cities, maybe,” Isra replied. “So long as people follow the rituals, there should be no problem.”
“The rituals?” asked Alfric.
“For waste,” Isra replied.
“Oh,” said Alfric, in a way that suggested he didn’t know the rituals for waste, or thought her odd for mentioning it.
They walked in silence for a bit. That was how it went with Alfric, and seemed to be how he preferred to spend their time together, silence punctuated by verbalizations. They were silences that she didn’t particularly like, because it seemed as though he was carrying on the conversation in his head, looking for ways to keep it going, which made her feel uneasy.
The silence was interrupted though, as a rustling of grass came from the grazing field beside them. By the time a ball of black fur leapt up over the stone wall, Alfric had his sword drawn and Isra’s dagger was in her hand.
It had to turn a bit to find them, but when it did, the dog started barking its head off.
“Back!” shouted Alfric, brandishing his sword. He lowered the point of it, aiming it at the dog, which was barking ferociously and showing teeth.
Isra slipped her dagger back into its sheath and stepped forward. “That’s not how you handle a dog,” she said. She moved to step in front of Alfric, between him and the dog, while the dog continued his barking. “Stop,” she said, using her best commanding voice.
The dog stopped immediately, closing his mouth and straightening up somewhat to look at her.
“Sit,” she said.
The dog sat on his haunches, now fully at attention. Isra got closer and stooped down, patting him softly on the head, then feeling around his neck for a collar, finding none. She frowned slightly, then stood back.
“You’re not a wild dog,” she said to the dog. “Someone should have put a collar on you. Go back to your owner.”
Without another sound, the dog hopped back over the stone wall and could be heard rustling through the grass, away from them. Isra turned to Alfric with a smile, but he was staring at her, and her smile fell.
“What?” she asked.
“How did you do that?” he asked.
“Have you never had a dog?” she asked. “They must be less common in the city.”
“That is
“They’re very intelligent creatures,” Isra replied. “More than birds or cats.”
“Yes, but,” Alfric said, “you can’t just get a dog to stop by telling him to stop.”
“You can,” said Isra, feeling confused. “I did. If you haven’t been around dogs before—you just tell them and they listen. Say it like a command.” She started walking again. Seeing the dog had made her feel good, though she’d have been happier if she’d been able to return him to his owner. They were new, strange people walking by his pasture, he hadn’t meant anything by coming at them. Alfric’s questions, and further, his insistence that she’d done something wrong, rankled. People talked to dogs, she knew they did, it was something she’d seen a dozen times before. There was nothing that should have been confusing or strange about it. She found herself walking a little bit faster than strictly necessary, and the way that Alfric lengthened his stride to catch up made her feel even worse, like he was chasing her.
