In Which Asalaye Hears the Hated Hypocorism

August 22, 1169

"...so I said to him that she was a fine sow and I wouldn't take any less than half of what he was offering. So we argued for a while and--would you believe it?--turns out the man can't count past ten. I ended up getting more than I'd asked for just because he had no idea what 'fifteen' was until we'd actually agreed and counted out the coins."

Asalaye laughed. She could take or leave her stepsister Melria--she made good pies, but other than that she was rather dull--but the fact that the older girl had a sometime-sweetheart as interesting as Cord made it worthwhile to put up with her. She only wondered what it was that Cord saw in Melria; he did have a rather unfortunate nose, but otherwise he might have done much better.

"So what you're saying is that you ripped him off," surmised Lonriad from behind Asalaye's seat on the couch. Asalaye shot him a glare, then returned her gaze to Cord. She didn't know why Lonriad was here, exactly--the boys were out, and Lonriad didn't seem to get along with any one of the three girls--but Asalaye's father liked him for some reason, and thought it rude to turn away their lord's son in any case. Personally, Asalaye saw no problem with sending him on his way if he spoke to other guests like that, but Lonriad was so impudent that she doubted he'd leave even if she tried to kick him out.

"I did not 'rip him off'," Cord insisted with a scowl--to Asalaye's delight, Cord didn't like Lonriad either. "I made use of an opportunity."

Lonriad sniffed. "You took advantage of a man's lack of education--that sounds like a rip-off to me."

"Well, nobody asked you!" Asalaye snapped back at him, giving him little time to respond before she turned back to Cord. "What happened next?"

Cord shrugged. "Nothing. I sold him the pig, made a tidy profit, and went home."

"That's a little different from 'nothing'." Asalaye rolled her eyes; didn't Lonriad know how to shut up? "Sure, it's nothing interesting, but it's still something."

Asalaye scowled. "Shut up, Lonriad--you're just jealous because Cord actually does things."

"Yes, things like ripping off peasants."

Shaking her head, Melria pulled herself to her feet and stepped in front of Cord, obscuring Asalaye's view of him; she felt a distinct pang of annoyance as his eyes moved from her to the older girl. "Might we go now?"

"If you like." He took her by the hands, then pulled her along as he headed to the door. "Nice talking to you, Asalaye, Nanalie."

"Likewise," Nanalie muttered.

"Bye, Cord." Really, what did he see in dull old Melria ? She was about as bland as any middle-aged housewife Asalaye knew. Granted, she'd heard somewhere that men tended to gravitate toward women who reminded them of their mothers, but that seemed a bit gross--and besides, Cord's mother was actually interesting!

Cord waved, then ushered Melria out the door and closed it behind them. Asalaye watched them pass by the window, then looked down at her skirt. The fabric was getting a little faded around the knee area--maybe Cord thought it was sloppy? Or maybe he'd pay her more attention if she had breasts. If so, that was a shame; they seemed like they might be a bit of an inconvenience otherwise.

Behind her, Lonriad snorted, then hoisted himself over the back of the couch and landed next to Asalaye, prompting a disapproving glare from Nanalie. Maybe that was why he enjoyed haunting their house so much--no eleven-year-old girl was more matronly than Nanalie. "Good God--what an idiot he is."

Asalaye glowered. "Takes one to know one!"

"I'm serious," Lonriad insisted. "He's so full of himself; Nanalie, back me up here."

Nanalie frowned--as if it really made much of a difference to her face as a whole. "Well... maybe a little. But he does work hard."

"Unlike you," Asalaye reminded him. "You just sit around on your ass all day!"

Her sister's mouth formed a disapproving 'o'. "Asalaye! Don't say that word!"

"What?" She bounced indignantly in her seat. "He does."

Lonriad shook his head, then grinned. His teeth were almost unnervingly white. "Oh, Laya, Laya, Laya!" He always called her 'Laya'; she hated it, but protests had proven useless time and time again. "You don't know how busy I really am, do you?"

Asalaye tossed back her head and stuck her nose in the air, the way some of the older girls always did when talking to someone of inferior intellect. "If you were busy, then you wouldn't be here all the time."

"Maybe my business requires me to be here."

"Oh really?" Asalaye had grown up on a ranch; she knew bullshit when she smelled it. "What do you do, then? Are you a spy?"

"Yes," he replied without a hint of a smile. "Yes, Laya, I'm a spy. What else could I possibly be doing with my life at age ten?"

Annoyed, Asalaye sucked in her top lip and gave him the most impressively angry pout she could muster. "Well, would you mind spying on someone else for a change? Because we sure as hell don't want you around!"

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