Vaughn bent at the waist, his fat belly nearly rubbing against the white stone altar. “It is a fine piece of steel. Why would you give it up for twelve goats?”
“It’s worth at least a hundred and you know it,” Riley spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m giving it up for a promise. Emma May will be allowed to choose her own husband when and if she likes.”
Vaughn had picked up the blade now and was weighing it. “If you’re willing to let this go so cheap, I’d be a fool to walk away.” He looked to Milton. “I can’t speak to a father’s rights.”
“Why? Why would you do this for us?” Riley glanced over her shoulder. Milton was holding Emma May’s hand and tears were streaming down his cheeks.
Riley turned around and looked at four girls of descending height in the front row. The oldest one was holding a little boy’s hand. There was no mother to be seen. “If this sword can bring any happiness for a family, there’s no better use for it.”
The thin man’s chest swelled. “I swear this before the town and before all six gods, Emma and all of my daughters will agree on their husbands.”
There was an eruption of cheers, the children swarmed her, all of them trying to hug her at once.