Chapters (13)
Wei Jintai repeated her pedigree, suitably impressing Lao Bingyi, and Khanh tilted his head at Sang’s name.
“Do you have people up by the Ko-anam Ford?” he asked curiously. “That’s where I’m from originally.”
Sang looked startled to be receiving any conversation at all, fiddling with her bread before answering.
“No, but my brother was headed up that way a few years ago. Sis and I met in Kochin, where I’m from.”
“Oh, you’ve come a long way,” said Lao Bingyi admiringly. “Where are you two young ladies going, anyway?”
It turned out that Sang and Wei Jintai were headed to Betony Docks, one of the river towns that offered transport to points further west. Chih was headed the same way, hoping to catch up with a stipend that was waiting for them from Singing Hills before they took the ferry towards Vihn.
“But really, I’m hoping to spend at least a little while in Betony Docks learning about the local stories and the heroes,” Chih said. “The whole world talks about the martial legends that come out of the riverlands, and I would like to see what the riverlands might want to say if they were asked.”
“You’re welcome to come with us, cleric,” Sang said. “The ferry takes less money if we’re in a group anyway.”
“Why, nonsense,” Lao Bingyi exclaimed. “That’s an extra four days, and what, all so that a ferryman can drink away your fares? No, come west with us instead on the foot road. It’ll be faster by far.”
Sang frowned.
“Pardon me, auntie, but we’ve heard the foot road is more treacherous, and that the ferry is safer.”
Lao Bingyi smiled as if Sang had said something funny.
“Listen, my old man and I have lived at Betony Docks since the rocks were soft, and we’d be ashamed to take the ferry. The bandits know better than to raid in this region, and the ones who don’t are quickly taught. We’d never hold our heads up again if they saw us floating into town!”
Wei Jintai’s head came up, and there was a glint in her eyes as she took Sang’s hand.
“If they are not going to take the ferry, then why should we?” she said. “Oh, Sang, of course we must take the foot road. It will be faster—didn’t you say we should stay on the back roads?”
Sang hesitated, but before Chih could wonder too much what her resistance was, she shrugged.
“All right. The foot road it is, and if we get our throats slit by bandits or crushed in a rockslide, don’t come crying to me.”
“Wrong season for rockslides,” Khanh said, mopping up the last of his chao with a piece of fried bread.
“Well, there we are then,” Chih said.