She brought the worn, hand-drawn map to the table and unrolled it. She leaned over the table, standing next to Da, holding her side of the map open while he held the other.
He used his free hand to point. “You’ve gone to Shinroo and Gishin on your own. I would start with Shinroo. It’s the closest, and that will give you one solo run.”
Tereka traced a finger along the road leading southwest. “Attu. Pir Bakran. And Utoro. That’s three.” She looked up at Da, her eyebrows raised.
“I agree. They won’t be too much trouble. The problem is Juquila’s demand for a fourth new town. You’ll either have to go to Paamiut or North Rivash.”
Not a happy prospect. Most traders avoided Paamiut, west of Utoro, because pirates had raided the town, slaughtering any who got in their way. North Rivash was nestled in the foothills of the mountains, and bandits prowled the slopes above the road that led from Shinroo. They raided that stretch of road more than any other.
She tapped North Rivash. “I’ll go here. Better bandits than pirates. I’ll do anything to avoid falling into the hands of pirates.” She shivered, remembering tales of what happened to women captured by pirates.
Da nodded. “Then do your run to Shinroo this week. Next week head south, and trade in Attu, Pir Bakran, and Utoro. That gives you two runs and three towns.”
“Then Shinroo again, I suppose? And back to Attu?”
“Right. You can do Shinroo and North Rivash last. Two months should be ample time to get all that in.” He hesitated. “But…”
“But what?”
“You need to go armed.”
“Juquila said— ”
“I know what she said. But if I’m not there with you, what’s to keep some drunk trader from coming at you during the night?”
“If I have weapons, I’m risking my probation.”
“Your probation or your life? Which is more important?”
Scowling, Tereka dropped onto a stool. “Why do I have to make such a choice?”
Da closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t have wished this on you for anything.” He leaned toward her. “But you have to be able to protect yourself. Most of the traders we know would never touch you. But we don’t know everyone, nor do I trust the guardsmen.”
As she spoke, she rapped the table. “Juquila said no weapons.”
“Tell me what you’d do, Tereka,” Da said with a snort. “Imagine you’re on the road, following the wagon in front of you. A mob of bandits gallops up, swinging battle axes and shooting arrows. Are you going to sit on your wagon and fold your hands hoping the guardsmen fight them off? And if they fail, will you calmly wait for a bandit to either shoot you or carry you off for some private entertainment later?”
She hung her head and stared at her hands. She’d traveled with caravans attacked by bandits before. Every time, Da hid her under the seat of the wagon while he used his bow and arrows to keep the robbers at bay. He was right. The guardsmen couldn’t be counted on for protection.
Her father placed a hand on her shoulder. “Why do you think I taught you to throw knives? Because every trader needs to carry a knife, for cutting ropes and such. Having a knife doesn’t count as being armed. And we can hide your bow and arrows so no one will notice them. Just use them if you need to.”
Tereka threw her head back and huffed. “Fine. I hope I don’t live to regret this.”
8
That evening, Juquila watched the sand in her hourglass run out. She turned it over with a sigh. Where was that fool Muzquiz? Surely the traders’ guild meeting was over by now. She paid Muzquiz good money for information. She didn’t like when he was slow about delivering it.
She leaned back in her oaken chair and drummed her fingers on its arms. Like that of all konameis—the councilors who ruled villages and towns in Tlefas—her public office was plain. Wood tables served her and her clerk as desks, wood benches along the wall were enough for anyone who had reason to sit down. The floor was rough stone, the walls whitewashed plaster. At least she had a fire in the fireplace to warm her on this chilly spring evening. The one luxury allowed in her public office.
What a farce it all is. If people only knew what the private rooms looked like. She thought of the comforts she enjoyed—thick carpets on the floors and tapestries on the walls that made a barrier between the cold stone and the room. And the beds. Actual beds with feather mattresses, rather than bags of straw to sleep on. The food, with fine spices and fruits never sold in the northern markets. And the servants, all of whom were never allowed out of the house. No one knew of these advantages. The luxury of the konameis’ private rooms was a well-kept secret. The people needed to think that everyone lived equally.
Her oil lamp flickered. She looked up to see Muzquiz hovering in the door.
He twisted his hands together. “If you please?”
“Sit.” She pointed at her clerk’s chair. “Long meeting tonight?”
Muzquiz lowered his thin frame into the chair as if he expected it to bite him. She thought about how she’d chew on him if he didn’t have news for her. The idea amused her and she smiled. “Tell me.”
“We had thirty-one traders tonight. They were upset over the bandit attack on the caravan near Litavye.”
“They’re always upset over bandit attacks. As am I.” She frowned.
Muzquiz licked his lips. “If you please, they’re angry over the deaths. They think more guards are needed.”
“If they want more guards, they’ll have to pay more in guild fees.”
“They’ll never agree to that. In fact, they say many of the guards either don’t fight or are in league with the bandits.”
Juquila slid her hands to her lap where Muzquiz couldn’t see them and folded them together. She raised her eyebrows and gazed at him, trying to look as if this news was only mildly interesting to her. “Did they talk about defending themselves?”
He pursed his lips and looked at the ceiling. “One or two might have shouted something like that, but the rest didn’t seem too interested in that idea.”
“Which one or two?”
“Oh, they were all shouting at once. I have no idea.”
“Was one my sister’s husband?”
“Tarkio?” Muzquiz stroked his chin. “He was there, I think, but he didn’t say anything that I remember.”
“Hmm. Who else was there?”
Muzquiz rattled off a list of a dozen names. “That’s all I recall.”
“What about the women traders? Were any of them there?”
He nodded. “A few.”
She scowled at him. So he wanted her to dig for his gossip. “Which women were there?”
“Pokachi’s widow and daughter. And Tarkio’s daughter.” He scratched his face. She fixed her dark eyes on him, willing him to tell her more. He didn’t disappoint.
“She’s headed for Shinroo the day after tomorrow.”
Shinroo. It made sense that Tereka would do the easiest run first. “Is Tarkio going with her?”
Muzquiz frowned. “No, I think he’s headed for Attu. Why?”
Juquila waved a hand. “Idle curiosity. But back to the main point. Have you talked with any of your members about disarming?”
“Yes, but, if you please, very few like the idea. As long as the guards aren’t able to protect them, they want to be able to defend themselves.”
“Who are the biggest opponents?”
Muzquiz studied her face before answering. “I’m not certain.”
Juquila looked at him blandly, cursing herself. She must have asked the question more eagerly than she’d intended. He always claimed uncertainty whenever he thought the information was important to her. “Anything else?”
“We discussed some new items being brought up from the south, and the harvest and weather predictions.”
As he answered her questions about the southern goods, she listened with only half her mind, letting him prattle on with useless details while she pondered her next move. Best to go slowly, to
lull Tarkio into believing he’s got it all under control.
“Do you enjoy the sound of your voice, or do you have any real news for me?” She suppressed a smile as he hunched his shoulders and shrank into himself.
“If you please, I have remembered one other thing. About a year ago, I noticed that Tarkio had two bows in his wagon, half-hidden under the seat.”
She scowled. “A year ago, and you didn’t think to mention it sooner?” She pointed at the door. “See that you are more prompt in keeping me informed.”
“Thank you. Peace and safety.” He scurried to the door and fled through it.
When the door closed, Juquila shifted in her chair to find a more comfortable position. Silly rules to create the illusion that all are equal. They fool no one. Everyone knows the konameis have favors no one else enjoys. So why can’t one of those favors be a cushioned seat?
The hardness of her perch wasn’t the only thing making her frown. Muzquiz hadn’t told her much of value. What was he hiding? So Tarkio’s bringing Tereka to guild meetings now? Something to remember. She was also sure that Tarkio still took his bow and arrows with him every time he traveled. Was he teaching Tereka the same? Surely he’d want her to be able to defend herself, even if it was technically a violation of the rules. Not to mention her explicit command. She would extract obedience from Tarkio, one way or another. And keep him from stirring up the other traders. Traders who weren’t afraid to use their weapons against bandits might decide they could use them against the Prime Konamei’s government to get what they wanted. She drummed her fingers on the table. Who could she get to spy on Tarkio and Tereka while they traveled? That was worth some deliberation.
She reviewed what Muzquiz had disclosed about the traders’ dissatisfaction with the guards. Many of the guards either don’t fight or are in league with the bandits. That one line was worth the time she’d wasted with Muzquiz.
Smiling, she toyed with her quill, twirling it between her fingers. Perhaps she had something to share with Kaberco, the ephor. Another scrap of information he could use that would put him just a little more in her debt. When she made her move, he wouldn’t have noticed how she got him under her control.
9
Kaberco grimaced and laid down his pen. He didn’t like signing orders to take people, but it was a necessary part of his job, his duty to keep the people safe. Why was it some people just couldn’t accept that everyone had to make sacrifices for the safety of all and fairness for all? His face hardened. Some day, when they’d made the land safe and fair, they’d enjoy the prosperity the first Prime Konamei had dreamed of. Some day.
In the meantime, he had other worries. Four guardsmen killed during a bandit attack on a caravan. It was getting harder to find anyone who wanted to be a guardsman these days. Why didn’t more young men want to help keep the land safe? What was wrong with them?
He scraped his wooden chair back from his worktable and stood up. Squaring his shoulders, he strode across the stone floor to the window and stared out at the main square of Trofmose. The morning rain had given way to sunshine which made the puddles in the square shine. Nine years he’d been ephor of Trofmose. A much bigger job than his last post, ephor of the small village of Gishin. Now he oversaw the safety of a regional center, as well as the surrounding area and its villages.
They wouldn’t stay safe if he didn’t get back to work. A knock at the door caused him to turn around. “Yes?”
His clerk peered around the doorframe. “If you please, the syndic is here to see you.”
Interesting. What would Juquila want? “Send her in.” His lips twitched. Second-guessing her was one of the most amusing parts of his job.
Juquila sauntered past the clerk, a wide smile on her face, her head held high and proud. “Peace and safety to you, Kaberco.” With a smile, she tipped her head to look up at him.
“Peace and safety to you, Juquila.” He motioned for her to sit. Sitting in his own chair again, he placed his elbows on the desk and rubbed his hands together. “What can I do for you?”
She handed him a sheaf of documents. “Our revenues are up over last year.” She proceeded to give him a summary. “In short, if this year continues as it started, we’ll take in ten percent more than last year.”
Kaberco shuffled through the papers. Juquila was a lot of things, but inefficient wasn’t one of them. Of all his konameis, he could count on her to get her job done well. And the amazing thing was he’d never caught her skimming the profits like her predecessor.
According to the town gossip, she’d seduced her long-dead husband, the former ephor, as a means to get the syndic’s job. It caused no end of uproar because Juquila never finished her apprenticeship as a vendor, unless you counted how she’d sold her body for what power and luxury the sixty-year-old ephor could give her. But she’d done well as syndic, there was no denying it. “Thank you, Juquila.” He laid the papers on the table. “Will you report this at our next Konament meeting?”
“As you wish.”
When she didn’t get up to leave, Kaberco asked, “Can I do anything else for you?”
Her smile broadened. “What makes you think I want anything?”
The ephor almost laughed. She always wanted something. “I assume you’re too busy to turn this into a social call.”
Juquila dipped her head, still smiling at him, her eyelids crinkling. Here it comes, Kaberco thought.
“You’re right about busy. And I’d imagine it’s even worse for you, although the job doesn’t seem to weigh on you like it did my husband.”
“I’m a bit younger than Valday, thank you very much. I just hope I can serve as long as he did.”
“Oh, we all want that, Kaberco.”
Kaberco wasn’t so sure. Sometimes he wondered if Juquila had her sights set on his position. “I’m glad to hear it. Now, I’m guessing you want to discuss the latest bandit attack.”
She nodded. “As truth would have it, I do. I’m sure you can imagine how it has upset my traders. Some say there weren’t enough guards.”
“They might have a point. I sent a message to the ephor in Litavye, asking him why there were only six guards on that caravan. If he sends a bird today, I’ll let you know.”
“I hope he has something to say that will calm the traders down, get them to stop talking.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some are saying the guards didn’t fight, they just ran away.”
“That’s not what I hear.” The heat rose in his face. Sometimes the guards did run away. When any of his guards fled an attack, he dealt with them severely. But this time, he’d not heard of any turning tail. Were they covering for each other, or was Juquila lying? He knew he couldn’t trust everything she said.
She shrugged. “Maybe that’s just talk. But others are saying some of the guards are in league with the bandits. They flee and allow the bandits to take what they want.”
The ephor swallowed before answering to make sure he kept the anger out of his tone. “Is that what you believe?”
“I might believe it of the guards from Litavye. But not any of yours.”
He wanted to believe her, the way she looked at him with her large dark eyes, made darker and larger by the turban she wore. Gazing at her, he could imagine how easy it had been for her to captivate Valday with her sultry beauty. Even now, in her mid-thirties, she had an erotic appeal. Which he was not going to fall for. “I can assure you, none of my guards are in league with bandits. Because this is a matter of safety, I’ll make certain they are not.” He leaned forward, smiling, hoping to imply he was enthralled by her charms. “But I need your help, Juquila.”
She tipped her head to the side. “What can I do?”
“Squash any gossip that the guards are working with the bandits. That kind of rumor will do no one any good.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll try to reassure the trade guild. It won’t be easy. We have some troublemakers, you know.”
“Any I should be interest
ed in?”
“Just the usual malcontents. You know who they are. And the women traders, too. They’re a bit more vocal about not feeling safe on the road.”
The usual malcontents. Who did she mean? He ran through the traders, as many as he knew. A few were worth looking into. The women traders, now—he could see them being perturbed about guards deserting the scene. “Anyone in particular?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to falsely accuse someone. That would hardly be fair.”
Blasted woman. Why wouldn’t she just come out and tell him? “Do you want my help?”
“Oh, Kaberco, would that be possible?” She’d made her tone beseeching, as if she was talking to a lover.
He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands together. She was scheming, he could feel it. Maybe she was concerned about revenue. Or maybe this was her own private plot. Something he, Kaberco, had no desire to get sucked into. “Which traders do you suspect?”
“There are one or two I’m keeping my eye on.”
She wanted to make him fish. Fine. “Do these one or two have names?”
“Rumor has it Tarkio Sabidur is training his daughter in archery.”
Tarkio. He’d been suspicious of Tarkio seventeen or so years before, but the man had been a model of compliance ever since. “So? I’d rather the girl let the guardsmen handle any bandits, but if it came down to it, I’d want her to be able to defend herself.”
“If that was all it was, I’d agree with you. But the talk is that they plan to use the confusion of an attack to distract other traders and rob them.”
Kaberco pulled his eyebrows together. That didn’t fit what he knew of Tarkio. “Can’t you deal with your traders, Juquila?”
“I can, but it would help to have you backing me up when it comes to enforcing the Prime Konamei’s rules.”
An interesting spin. It was his job to enforce the rules, and hers to back him up. “Very well. I’ll put some men to watching them. Now, if you please, I’m expecting the questor any minute.”
Flicker of the Flame: A YA Epic Fantasy Page 5
