“You seek my name?” There was a softness in his manner that confused me.
“I don’t know who you are,” I replied. “Why would I tell you my business, stranger? You’re not from these parts and you do not seem Perpatanian, for they deem tattoos as ungodly.” I tried to temper my words, which I had wanted to spit at him, with some measure of patience so as to hide my nerves.
“My god doesn’t care about the flesh,” he said, his smirk expanding. “I would imagine yours does not either.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I have seen you in warm weather. You too are marked like me.”
I balked. “So you know who I am, but I do not know you. Rather unfair, I think. Again I say to you, tell me who you are.”
“I am a man concerned there is no midwife on this caravan. Only two Perpatanian physicians who think all women’s troubles are beneath them.”
“What man concerns himself with womanly troubles? I only practice midwifery on occasion. And how do you know that?”
He put his hood halfway back on his head. He paused, his handholding it in place while he assessed me and then, as if making a decision, he pushed it all the way back to rest at his neck. “I am Vyggian, but I have not lived on the island in a long time. The lord’s son has hired me and my three companions to act as scouts for this caravan.”
This intrigued me. Hundreds of Perpatanian soldiers would be traveling with us. What did Thane need with four other scouts? But I said, “What need does a scout have for a midwife?”
“It is as I say,” he responded. “A third of the people traveling are womenfolk, and there is not one midwife amongst the lot. Is a man not allowed concern for women? Is that such a rare idea to you people of Sheridan?”
I laughed suddenly. “You do not know the church of Rodwin, do you?”
The tattooed man glanced around. “You should come.”
I shook my head. “I’m the last woman in these parts to own property, but they won’t pay me what I am owed for my land. What is in it for me?”
“You do not worry about Tintar?”
“Who are you?” I burst out. “Sir, I do not know you. You have not given me a name, only your country of origin. Should I call you ‘salt man’ then?”
He nodded. “I grew up in the shallows. Even worked in them. I have a house there. So, yes. I am content with being your salt man.”
Vyggia was best known for its expansive salt shallows, easy-to-wade-in stretches of shoals rich with the export. Men labored all day collecting Vyggian seawater and boiling it on the shoreline, reducing it to the finest salt in the known world.
“Salt man,” I said, “get out of my way.”
“You do not worry for the women on this journey? It does not give you pause to know they may have need of you, that they may suffer?”
I stared at him and said nothing.
“Do you want for the protection of a man? Is that it?” he asked.
“And what if it was?” He was a mystery, and I decided to only answer his questions with questions.
“Then I would offer you my services,” the stranger said, stepping closer to me. “I am swift with a knife, handy with my fists, and even better at avoiding a skirmish with my words. I would willingly pledge you my protection.”
“You don’t even know me.”
He opened his mouth as if to speak but remained silent.
“If I agree will I be given a name, defender of women?” I taunted. “How noble of you, Vyggian, to worry about the women of Sheridan. You should be lauded for your magnanimous nature, truly.”
He gave me a smile. “Sarcasm suits you,” he said, almost more to himself than to me. “Yes, lady, I will give you my name if you sign the list.”
“I am a ‘lady’ now?”
That light eye traveled up and down the length of me slowly.
