Chapter 87: She Brought Forty Husbands and No Manners

Dove washed behind the service office’s closed door before asking how many men counted as enough to fill a yard. The road worker stood outside with his shovel, giving Edrik directions while Thorne checked her tail cover.

"Forty mates," the worker said. "Another sixty following her wagons. She tells them there might be room for more if they keep proving themselves."

Dove stopped combing her blonde waves. A hundred men sounded less like company and more like a grocery bill capable of eating its own cart. She asked whether the woman was headed for the market permanently, but the worker only knew what the wagon drivers had told him.

Day Thirty-Six brought four packs of AA batteries from Sprout. Selling three paid fourteen normal coins. Six fresh Favor unlocked a thirty-coin three-pack of work shirts, and her road task needed three newly stored trades. Exercise remained fifteen active minutes, with no reward for sitting on a very handsome cat.

"He is exceptionally handsome," she told it while Thorne crouched for her. "You can still stop suggesting what I should do about it."

They followed the worker along the road’s dry edge, with the guide pulling his cart behind Thorne. Edrik stayed human until the narrow section ended, ready to steady a wheel if it slipped. Nobody asked Dove to wade through freezing water to prove she was independent.

Beyond the crossing, the old quarry road descended between rock walls. Loading sheds stood around a gravel yard below, their entrances raised above a drainage channel. Smoke rose from a shared cooking shelter, and a watchman opened a fenced gate wide enough for carts.

The printed map showed the quarry. It did not show the new stalls beneath its shed awnings, the sleeping rooms built into old offices, or the line of men who forgot what they were doing when Dove lifted her face from Thorne’s fur.

"You’ve brought a woman," the watchman said. A second guard came closer, breathing in before his gaze settled on her mouth. Edrik moved into the space he had been trying to enter.

"She’s noticed," the bear said. "Ask your questions from there."

Dove gave the guard their names and asked about rooms. When he offered a private tour, she pointed at the waiting carts. "Start with the gate. You’re holding everybody up, and I’m not accepting a date just to find the bathroom."

Thorne lowered her beneath an empty awning, then shifted behind a parked truck while Edrik stayed beside her. The guards recorded their weapons, including Edrik’s recovered handgun. Dove kept the ammunition boxes stored; nobody had confirmed which rounds fitted it yet.

Three men bought batteries before the guide finished introducing her. One needed a flashlight, another a child’s toy, and the third an old kitchen clock. Rice, clean cloth, and a lidded tin changed hands, giving her three new trades to store and the fourteen-coin reward.

Her normal balance rose to seventy-seven. She spent fifteen minutes checking the market on foot with her men, earning three more. Walking the raised walkway was different from trudging through roadside snow, and she wanted to see every entrance before paying for a room.

They passed the shared stove, a wash area screened with doors, and the keeper’s office at the far end of the sheds. The loading shelter had an upstairs room they could borrow tonight. A counter with its own bedroom might be available tomorrow, if she reached the keeper before another interested trader.

Thorne held her coat when she stopped to adjust it. "You’re fussing," she told him. "At least let me pretend I can fasten a button without supervision."

"I was enjoying the view," he said. She tugged him close by his collar and kissed his cheek, then told him to behave until they had somewhere private. Edrik watched her hand with an expression he didn’t bother hiding.

Their reactions completed the six fresh Favor and mate extra, taking her to eight hundred twenty-four. She kept the last battery pack for four, leaving eight hundred twenty. The work shirts remained unlocked and unbought, while eighty normal coins waited for something she actually needed.

A man offered a pretty scarf and asked whether she wanted a provider who could stay while her husband hunted. Dove returned it. "I’m asking about rent. If you want to help, point at the office and let me finish my morning."

He pointed. Edrik watched until he stopped trying to follow, then offered Dove his arm at a gap between walkway boards. She used it without pretending she had agreed to anything beyond getting across safely.

The first wagon entered before they reached the office. Men cleared the loading yard, and four broad-backed males carried a padded chair down from its covered bed. A small woman sat beneath layers of red cloth, holding out her hand for somebody to kiss.

Her hair was bright red, with a narrow feathered tail trailing beside the cushions. Her chest was slight, her chin lifted, and she looked thoroughly used to finding an audience wherever she went. The watchman called her Saffra and hurried to open the wider yard gate for the rest of her company.

"Make room for her forty mates," a follower announced. "And sixty more men who know how a female deserves to be treated."

Dove stopped counting when the line still hadn’t ended. Forty husbands, and Saffra couldn’t find one who deserved a please. Thorne tucked a loose blonde wave beneath Dove’s cap, and one passing man watched that small, welcome touch longer than he watched her body. Then Saffra called him back. Men carried gifts, food crates, blankets, and bags while Saffra complained about the pace. Even from the walkway, Dove caught stale sweat beneath heavy perfume when the chair passed close. Several men still looked delighted to hold its handles.

Then one bearer caught his boot against the step. The chair dipped, spilling a little tea over Saffra’s sleeve. He steadied it immediately and dropped to one knee, apologizing before she had even looked at the stain.

Saffra took a narrow knife from her lap and struck beneath his jaw. His apology stopped. The other bearers froze as he fell beside the chair, and she lifted her wet sleeve away from him as though he had been the thing that spoiled it.