The noise of shuffling boots on the stone floor and the murmurs of the men ceased when the door at the end of the hall opened and Juquila walked in. Tereka stared at her aunt, who wore a shapeless gray dress, like all village women. The only things that marked her as one of the konameis were the gray turban the female konameis wore and the bronze chain draped over her shoulders, the chain that marked her as the syndic. Tereka watched her take her place behind her worktable, commanding silence and respect with just a flicker of her eyes. Tereka envied the woman’s confidence, wishing her own wasn’t so deficient.
Juquila leaned forward and appraised the traders sitting in front of her. “So. Your caravan was attacked.”
Muzquiz stood up. “If you please, that is correct. The day they left North Rivash.” His voice shook a little.
“Losses?”
“Two traders dead, one guard dead, seven traders and six guards wounded.”
“Were any goods stolen or damaged?”
“A few sacks of grain were stolen, and a cask of ale damaged.”
“So not too bad.” Juquila wrote a few notes on the paper in front of her. “How many bandits died?”
“At least twenty.”
She frowned. “How many attacked?”
“If you please, there were two groups. Twenty at the front of the caravan. At least fifteen fell on the rear.”
“Were they all killed by the guards?”
Muzquiz hesitated. Tereka didn’t understand why. Surely, since they were in a fight for their lives, Juquila would understand why the rules had to be bent. “Ten, I believe.”
“And the other ten?”
It took a moment for Tereka to realize that Muzquiz and the traders were all staring at her. She blushed.
“You?” Juquila frowned and narrowed her eyes.
Clasping her hands together to keep them from shaking, Tereka stood. “Yes, if you please. Only four. One was about to attack Hina and none of the guards were near.”
Juquila gave her an icy stare. “And what does Hina have to say?”
Muzquiz shuffled his feet. “Hina told me Tereka did fight off the bandit. But with no regard for safety.”
Tereka stifled her gasp. How is it possible to fight a bandit safely?
Juquila fingered the document in front of her. “Muzquiz, I’m disappointed. You know the rules. You know traders are to stay out of the guards’ way when bandits attack. I expect you to keep your traders in line better. I expect all of you to follow the rules in the future. Or there will be consequences.”
A shiver ran up Tereka’s spine. Fines were the worst things most of these traders would face. But Juquila could prevent her from ever getting her trading license. And there had been traders who’d been taken after they’d angered the syndic. Which meant they met some unknown, most likely horrible fate.
Juquila gestured toward the door. “You can all go.”
The traders stood and shuffled out of the hall.
“If you please,” Muzquiz said.
“Can it wait? I want a private word with my niece.”
Oh no. What did Juquila want with her? She looked at Kemet, her stomach fluttering.
He squeezed her hand. “I’ll be waiting outside.” She watched him leave with the others. She fought the sense of being abandoned, a lonely chick facing down a fox.
“Come here.”
She cautiously approached Juquila. “Yes, Aunt?”
“You shot and killed four bandits?”
“Yes.”
“You did that, knowing traders aren’t supposed to fight?”
“If you please, they were getting very close. And the guards were all at the front of the caravan, where the first group of bandits attacked.”
“That’s not what I hear. The guards reported that you were still shooting when they were closing in on the last bandit. You could have shot one of them by accident.”
Tereka swallowed. Juquila was going to blame her and it made no difference that the guards had been too far away to help her. Or get accidentally shot for that matter. “I was afraid,” she said. “The bandit was very close. And very angry. I thought he would kill me.”
Juquila sneered. “You don’t understand, do you? I didn’t think so. You’ve always been a bit thick.” She leaned forward. “I’ll try to explain so you understand. The bandits are getting bolder in their attacks, right? And they’re coming in larger numbers.”
“Yes.”
“We need all the guards we have. Do you agree?”
“Yes.” Tereka felt her face growing hot. Why was Juquila talking down to her like she was a stupid child?
Her aunt’s tone sharpened with another sneer. “So it’s better for the safety of all if one trader is injured, rather than that an irresponsible, unsafe trader shoots a guard accidentally. A guardsman is worth more to the building of a safe and fair society than a trader. What’s wrong with you that you don’t understand that?”
So many thoughts ricocheted in Tereka’s mind she couldn’t seize hold of any of them to reply. The bandit had drawn so close, it would have been impossible for Tereka’s arrow to have hit a guard. And was Juquila saying that the guards’ lives were worth more than hers? How did that fit with all the talk of fairness?
“When did you learn to shoot?”
The question startled Tereka from her musing. “I, uh, my da taught me a little.” What could she say that would keep Da from getting in trouble? “Just a few times.” She hoped Juquila didn’t see through the lie. “I got lucky, that’s all.” That much she believed.
Juquila fixed her large eyes on Tereka. “Your da is testing my patience, teaching you to shoot. How far does he think he can push me?”
Tereka opened her mouth but could think of nothing to say.
Juquila tapped the documents lying on her table. “I made an exception for you, to even allow someone like you to have a chance at a trading license. This is how you repay me? Your mother put up with your nonsense long enough. I’m not going to.”
Tereka’s eyes widened. She wasn’t the only one who fought back. Kemet killed at least one bandit, and she saw a few other traders fighting as well. Why was she singled out? She glared at Juquila’s blazing dark eyes.
“You’ve been enough trouble that I could just have you taken.”
Tereka’s knees wobbled and her jaw dropped. “Aunt, please.” Her voice was plaintive and weak.
Juquila picked up a quill and dipped it in an inkwell. “It would only be just.” She ran a finger along the document in front of her.
Sweat ran down the back of Tereka’s neck. Her pulse pounded in her eardrums. Would Juquila really order her to be taken?
After she heaved a fake-weary sigh, Juquila tipped her head to the side and pursed her lips. “But because I’m inclined to be merciful, I’m giving you a choice. First, apologize.”
Bile rose in Tereka’s throat. She swallowed it back as her aunt stabbed at her with the quill. “If you don’t, I’ll extend your probation. For one year. One more violation of the rules and I’ll have to have a conversation with Kaberco. He might agree you need to be taken.” She paused, as if sizing up Tereka’s reaction. “And since you’re Tarkio’s apprentice, we might have to look into him as well.”
Any thoughts of refusing vanished and her hot anger of a few moments ago was replaced by an icy chill in her core. “I’m sorry, Aunt.”
“For what?”
Tereka tucked her shaking, sweating hands behind her back. “For behaving in an unsafe manner by fighting bandits.”
“Hmm. And do you promise to never go armed on a trade run again?”
That would be agreeing to allow bandits to kill or molest her. But she couldn’t let Da take the blame. “I promise.”
Juquila studied her face. “I wish I knew you were sincere. I’m fining you twenty sheaves. To be deducted from your profits this month. When you finish your probation and you fail to make your profit quota, you’re done as a trader. Do you understand?”
<
br /> “Yes.”
“I don’t think you do.” Juquila held up her hands and studied her long, graceful fingers. “You’re also seventeen. Time you were married.”
Tereka gulped. She knew time was running out for her. If people didn’t choose their marriage partners by eighteen, the ludi did it for them. And she suspected that in her case, Juquila would influence the ludi’s choice. “If you please, I don’t understand what that has to do with my trading.”
Her aunt’s sensual mouth curled in a sneer once again. “Marriage indicates a stable person, eager to help build our safe, fair, and prosperous country. Through marriage, people have the children who will be our next generation. If you remain unmarried, it signifies you aren’t interested in helping fulfill our Prime Konamei’s dreams.”
And what about her dreams? “Yes, I see now.” Tereka dragged the words out. “I will put some thought into that.”
“Hmm. I hope you’ve gotten my message. Peace and safety.”
With a mumbled “peace and safety,” Tereka stumbled from her aunt’s presence. She understood Juquila all too well. Her aunt would use all the power at her command to put as many oppressive restraints on Tereka as she could. Until Tereka either broke and became mindlessly submissive or ended up taken. And she wasn’t sure which fate would be worse.
15
Tereka kept her head high as she stalked out of Juquila’s office. She pushed past the traders in the outer office and burst onto the street, bumping into a man standing just outside the door.
“Hey, watch yourself. Don’t be so unsafe.”
Had it been anyone else, she would have snarled a response. But this was Tirk. And it was the first time in weeks he’d even acknowledged her existence.
“Tirk. It’s good to see you.” She smiled and tipped her head to the side.
He studied her face as if making some kind of calculation. Then his face relaxed as if he’d come to a decision. “It’s been a while. Are you hungry? I was about to go to the inn.”
She had no interest in food but was grateful that Tirk wanted anything to do with her. “Yes, please, let’s.” She tucked her arm into his and released it when she felt him stiffen. She was startled by his coolness but told herself it was just due to overwork. His eyelids drooped and he seemed thinner than that last time she saw him.
“Fine.” He strode toward the inn’s entrance on the other side of the square without another glance in her direction. She scurried after him, dodging groups of meandering villagers all clad in ash-colored cloaks and carrying baskets or bundles.
Once at the inn, Tirk chose a table in a corner and settled onto a stool. “So, how do you like trading?”
Tereka pulled her eyebrows together. From the abruptness of his question and the harshness of his tone, Tereka thought he might be angry with her. She tried to answer blandly, so she wouldn’t provoke him. Best to find out what was on his mind first. “More than I expected. So far Da has me doing the same runs. It’s a little dull doing the same thing over and over.”
“Like clerking?” His eyes narrowed.
“I would think that would be different every day.” She had never seen this touchy, defensive side to him.
The innkeeper’s girl bustled over, wiping her hands on a stained rag. “Anything for you?”
“Yes, apple cider, if you please. Tirk, do you want one? I’m buying.”
He nodded curtly. “What are you up to?”
She leaned back and stared at him. “Up to?”
“You were on that caravan attacked by bandits.”
“That was terrifying.” She shuddered. “I did what I had to, even though I’m doing my best to follow the rules.”
“Are you?” Tirk shook his head and scowled. “You know, it was embarrassing for me when you got yourself on probation. The other clerks couldn’t stop talking about it. My stupid sister, the lifelong apprentice.”
She got herself on probation? What about Juquila’s unfairness? She nearly snorted at his complaing he was embarrassed. What about her? She swallowed hard. She was not going to fight with him, no matter how wrong he was. “Your job sounds interesting. I bet you have some fun stories to tell.”
The girl brought back their drinks. Tirk took a sip of the honey-colored liquid. “Interesting, yes. And important.”
“That too.” Maybe if he warmed up, she could ask him to talk to Juquila about shortening her probation. “Are you happy with what you’re doing?”
“It’s rewarding and important work.” He sat up straight and scowled down his nose at Tereka. She looked down at her drink to hide her confusion. This was Tirk, her brother, who she’d grown up believing to be her twin. The boy she’d run through the market with, shared pasties with, the boy who’d acted as a buffer between her and Groa, the boy who’d smuggled food to her when she’d been sent to bed without. Now he was pompous and cold. She wanted to scream at him, to shake him. But a direct confrontation wouldn’t help. He’d only get angrier, or worse, go telling tales to Juquila.
“How’s Aito?” Maybe that will bring back the Tirk I love.
“Why do you care?”
This time she couldn’t hide her surprise. “Tirk, he’s my brother. What’s with you?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Me?”
“You. Why do you think you are above the rules?”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t play stupid. The rules about fighting bandits, remember those?”
This couldn’t be happening. “Tirk, I didn’t mean to break any rules. But the bandits were charging at me and another woman trader. The guards were at the other end of the caravan, far away. What could I do?”
“You could trust the guards to save you, instead of endangering them. Our aunt is trying to keep all the traders and caravans safe. She can’t afford for one trader to injure a guard. Or do you think you’re worth more than them?”
She hung her head. She had violated the rules. But so many others did in the same circumstances. Pointing that out along with the fact that Juquila was unfairly targeting her wouldn’t do anything to mollify Tirk. Not when it seemed he was parroting Juquila’s opinions.
“Just so you know,” he said, “Aito is miserable. He brightens up when Da comes around, which isn’t often. Seems Da’s too busy with you.”
“Tirk, that’s not fair. You know neither of us would have left, except— ”
The reddening of his face made her stop. He took a long look at her. “If it wasn’t for you, Da wouldn’t have had to leave. That was all your fault. Aito cried for him every night. For a very long time.”
Ice seeped into her veins. Did Aito ever cry for her? She didn’t dare ask. She wasn’t sure he’d reply. Or if she’d like the answer.
Tereka was still trying to come up with a response when he snarled at her. “And Mam, she’s unhappy, too. Think she’s having a good time, having to fend for herself, to feed Aito and me? At least now I can help her. No one else does.”
“What are you talking about? Da gives her money every month, he has ever since we left. We’ve sent gifts and food and all kinds of things.”
Tirk snorted. “That’s what he tells you.” He curled his lip. “He’d show up from time to time with money, sometimes with gifts. But not often. And certainly not regular enough that Mam could count on him.”
“That’s not what Da says. And I have no reason to believe he’s lying.”
“I have no reason to believe Mam is.”
“I do.” The words burst from Tereka’s mouth. “She lied to me for years.”
The flush on Tirk’s face deepened. “Don’t talk about her like that. You aren’t worth as much as her little finger.” He stood up, scraping the legs of his stool over the stone floor. “I was going to ask our aunt to reconsider your probation. Not anymore. She was right, you’re heedless and self-centered, having no thoughts of anyone else, let alone their safety. Maybe she should just deny you a license and be done with you.”
>
Stunned into silence, Tereka stared at him.
“Don’t try to talk to me again.” He stalked out of the inn, leaving Tereka wondering what had just happened. She stared at the dust motes floating on a ray of sun shining through the dusty windows. She hadn’t realized that Tirk hated her. He would never help her with Juquila. Her dream of being a full partner with Da would die.
And then what? She was going to have to get married and bear the required three children. But she wasn’t ready for that. So much of the country was left to see. Da promised to take her to the capitol, and all the way to Litavye. And to trade with the Riskers, although she couldn’t decide whether that prospect was enticing or frightening.
The scrape of a stool brought her back to the dingy inn. Kemet occupied the seat Tirk had just left. He leaned closer.
“What’s wrong, Tereka?”
“Nothing.” She stared at the table.
“Oh, you know about the sheaves.”
She looked up at him, a frown wrinkling her brow. “What sheaves?”
“So, you don’t know.” He pulled out a money bag and dumped the bronze coins on the table.
“Sheaves.” She shrugged.
“Look again.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out another sheave. He placed it next to one of the others.
Tereka stared at it. The lone sheave was slightly larger. She picked it up and studied it. Then she compared it to one of the others. The markings on the one from the money bag were irregular, uneven. She picked up another. “Tlefas” was misspelled. She stirred the pile of coins with her finger. “These are fake.”
He nodded, twisting his mouth into a grimace. “The fake ones are from the grain vendor in North Rivash.”
Her eyes widened. She reached for her own bag and pulled out three of her sheaves. Two were false.
Dropping her head, she stared at the worthless money in her hand. “I don’t even want to check the rest.”
“I had fifteen fake sheaves and four fake stones. Da will kill me.”
“I’m so sorry, Kemet.” She really was. She ignored the tears in her eyes. “It’s been nice to travel with you. I guess I’ll have to find someone else to ride behind me.”
Flicker of the Flame: A YA Epic Fantasy Page 8
