by Sharon Shinn
What might be even more helpful for you to know, as you deal with the natives of that country, is the attitude with which they approach the world. Their history is long and dramatic, with periods of brutal violence followed by equal periods of peace and enlightenment. They are governed generally by a sense of balance, but not in the way you Welchins find harmony among your five elements or the Malinquese strive to find a middle ground between their two towers of light and darkness. Rather, they operate in the extremes and expect their cumulative actions to somehow even out.
Their primary philosophy is one of atonement. An act of great evil can be erased by an act of parallel generosity. Their most famous king slaughtered nearly one hundred children to punish a rebellious noble. To expiate this monstrous sin, he became the greatest benefactor of schools and orphanages throughout the country. His entire personal fortune went to founding a university that only the very poor can attend, at no cost to themselves. It is the best university in the realm.
The corollary to this philosophy is the belief that even the very virtuous have some darkness at their core. No one is surprised to discover anyone is capable of deep wickedness. It is hard to shock Karkans. Hard, also, to impress them.
Of course, the country was annexed more than one hundred years ago by Cozique. To the Karkans, this is a great and terrible wrong that has yet to be righted. The whole country is out of balance, and this has led to a certain debauchery among the ruling family. (They are no longer the ruling family, of course, merely figureheads who do as the Coziquela bid them; but they are descended from the last true rulers of the country and they live at the royal palace, and their people still look to them for guidance.) I know stories of their excesses that I do not want to repeat here for fear of sullying my pen.
You say that representatives from the Karkades are coming to Welce to negotiate with your regent. If you have his ear, I would encourage you to whisper this information into it: The Karkans are determined to win back their independence. They believe it is the only way to atone for the humiliation of the past, that it is their right to achieve it, and that nothing they do to attain their goal can be considered too outrageous. On the surface, they will not appear to be fanatics—they might even possess some charm. But the regent should remain on his guard even so.
I half wish I was upon friendly terms with the empress Filomara of Malinqua, for I would give her the same warning. You remember, of course, that Coziquela warships invaded Palminera shortly before you departed. While hostilities were short, Cozique continues to maintain a military presence here, and this has caused stress and strain among the Malinquese citizens. It is said that Filomara and her oldest nephew are constantly scheming for ways to eject Coziquela forces completely from their soil. Naturally, the Karkans are aware of their discontent, and they have sent envoys here to investigate a partnership between their nations. In normal times, Malinqua would have so little to gain by such an alliance that the idea would be laughable—but these are not normal times. Malinqua may be so eager to rid itself of Cozique’s influence that it will sign a treaty with the Karkades, and then I do not know what terrible consequences may follow.
There! Have I filled you with uneasiness and disgust? The more I know about the royal houses of the southern seas, the more I think they are all full of murderers and madmen. Dhonsho with its rampaging king, Berringey with its barbaric habit of slaughtering royal heirs, Malinqua with its long history of poisoning rivals, the Karkades with its self-righteous brutality. For many years, I believed the only civilized court could be found in Cozique; but, from what you tell me, Welce is a place of relative sanity. A place anyone might be happy to live.
I hope, as you settle in there, that you are indeed finding yourself happy. I am eager to receive your next letters, hoping to hear news of a glad reunion with your daughter. Hoping to hear any news at all.
I think of you often, never more so than when I am sorting through goods brought to me by some trader. I wonder which pieces you would like, which ones you would believe in so wholeheartedly that you could convince almost any customer to take them home. The other day, a Berringese merchant came by selling jewelry, and there was a piece that reminded me so strongly of you that I had to purchase it. It is not for you to sell in your shop, you understand; it is for you to keep. I hope you will wear it from time to time and think of me.
Chandran
Well. This was a letter that would require a few readings. Leah momentarily laid it aside to pick up the slim packet that held Chandran’s gift. Her mouth formed an O of pleasure as she unwrapped it to reveal a pair of earrings. Each one was made of simple gold wires wrapped around three small emeralds, holding them in place like buds on a filigree branch. They were a perfect match to a necklace Leah had bought during one of the first ninedays she had worked at Chandran’s booth.
He had remembered.
They were not just business partners after all.
Not that such a realization could do her much good when he was a long ocean journey away and she was pretty sure she was never leaving Welce again. But it was a comfort nonetheless. Leah finished her meat pie, took another sip of wine, and read the letter again from the beginning.
SEVEN
The very next day, Leah had her first encounter with a Karkan.
She had gone to the palace to share Chandran’s assessment with Darien. The regent had listened closely, nodding a few times, but kept his conclusions to himself. Well, of course he did. Darien never told anyone what he was thinking. His only comment was, “And this information comes from the man who tried to poison you?” She couldn’t tell if that made Darien more or less likely to trust Chandran’s word.
“Well, yes. But in his defense, he knew I was lying to him.”
“If everyone I ever lied to had tried to poison me, I’d be dead a thousand times over.”
“Perhaps you should start practicing honesty.”
“I practice vigilance. So far it seems just as effective.”
She rose to go and he stopped her. “If you have a little time,” he said, and she sank back into the chair.
“Of course I do.”
“There are a handful of visitors in a room down the hall, awaiting an audience with me. Two are from the Karkades, two from Soeche-Tas. They know that I am busy for an hour or two and seem content to sit there until I am free. I can have a servant escort you there so that you, too, appear to be waiting upon my convenience. You might overhear something useful.”
“I might,” she said, “if they’re not speaking in one of their own languages. I don’t know either Soechin or Karkan.”
“If that’s the case, you can loiter a few moments, then storm out impatiently. But my guess is that they communicate in Coziquela since they have not been allies long enough to study each other’s habits of speech.”
“I’ll see what I can learn.”
He was silent a moment, thinking something over, then he said, “Officially, so far only a couple of Karkans have arrived in Welce. Envoys who will gauge my level of interest in speaking to someone with more power and influence. Unofficially, I believe a member of the royal family is already staying in a rented house near the Plaza of Men and using an assumed name—which is ironic, since one of his affectations is that he tells no one outside of the royal family what his true name is.”
He sounded so disgruntled that Leah couldn’t help smiling. “What? And your spies in the Karkades haven’t discovered what it is yet?”
Darien did not look remotely amused. “They have not been in place long enough to do so.”
“Is that what you want me to find out?”
“I don’t really care what he calls himself,” Darien replied. “I would rather have you bend your attention to gathering information of more value.”
She nodded and came to her feet. “I’ll do my best.”
A few minutes later, one of Darien’s impa
ssive servants showed her to a pleasant but very dull room with a few formal couches, a couple of spindly desks, and a view down the mountain road toward Chialto. A long table in the back of the room held basic refreshments—clusters of fruit, platters of bread, pitchers of water. Four strangers sat together on two of the sofas, leaning forward, elbows on knees, deep in conversation. Leah acted as if she was totally uninterested in them, catching only glimpses from the corner of her eye.
“And how long might it be before the regent has time to see me?” she asked the servant, allowing an edge of irritation to come to her voice.
“I am very sorry. I do not know.” The man bowed and showed himself out.
Leah smothered a sigh, glanced around, spotted the table, and helped herself to refreshments. Then she sat at the desk closest to a window, glared out at the sunshine, and gnawed discontentedly on a roll.
The other people in the room had stopped talking when she entered, but after a moment or two they resumed their conversation. Darien appeared to be right that they were speaking Coziquela, but not loudly enough for her to hear more than a few phrases at a time. And none of their words sounded particularly incendiary.
“. . . one of the better hotels . . .”
“. . . not like Cozique . . .”
“Oh, but dinner was good! Not what I expected . . .”
“. . . though not exactly entertaining . . .”
If they didn’t start outlining the details of their villainous plots pretty soon, she’d throw down her half-eaten roll and stalk out.
Five minutes after Leah entered, the sole woman of the group stood up, refreshed her water glass—and came over to where Leah was sitting. Leah looked up in surprise that wasn’t entirely feigned.
“I noticed you, too, were waiting for the regent,” the woman said in flawless Coziquela. She had an accent, though, drawing out each vowel just a little too long. Leah had heard enough Soechin speakers to know this woman wasn’t from that country. Karkan, then. Good. “Could you tell me, is he generally prompt?”
Before answering, Leah tried to take in as many details as she could without being obvious about it. The other woman looked to be in her late thirties, but her face was so expertly made up that she might have been ten years older, Leah thought. She was strongly built, somewhat below average height, with frosty blond hair randomly strung with glittering beads. Instead of the tunic and trousers favored by the Welchins, she wore a dress in the Coziquela style, though somewhat more ornate and fitted. Her hands were heavy with rings and her throat hung with necklaces—what Leah might consider an excessive amount. She couldn’t tell if this was normal attire for the Karkans or if the woman had gone to extra effort because she was seeking an audience with the regent.
She decided to tone down her malcontented attitude; the last thing she wanted to do was paint Darien as uncooperative. He could manage that all on his own. “Prompt enough, I suppose, if you’ve got an appointment,” she said. “I don’t. And I know he’s busy.” She shrugged.
“Is he generally responsive? Reasonable? What kind of man is he?”
Leah straightened in her chair, allowing her interest to show this time. Anybody would be intrigued to be asked such questions about the local ruler. “He listens to everybody, whether they’re from the Five Families or the southside slums,” Leah said. “He doesn’t always take the action you might want, but he does hear you out.”
“That’s good, I suppose.”
Leah warmed to her role. “And you’ll never know what he’s thinking. He’ll be very polite, and he’ll nod in all the right places, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.”
“Also a good thing, for a man planning to be king.”
“But he’s honest. If he does make you a promise, he’ll keep it.”
The woman nodded. “And what kinds of things does he respond to? Some kings like gifts, for instance. Some like to be introduced to new friends.”
What does that mean? Leah wondered. She remembered that Chandran had called the Karkan royal court debauched. Was this woman asking about Darien’s sexual preferences? If Darien had any that could be satisfied by foreign visitors, Leah didn’t want to know about them.
“He likes information,” she said. When the woman cocked her head to one side, Leah expanded. “He likes to know things other people don’t. He likes to put pieces together. If you have knowledge about—” She waved a hand. “Something that’s happening in Soeche-Tas. A secret alliance between Cozique and Berringey. A plan that’s about to be launched by the Karkades. He likes to know. Give him information and he’s more likely to give you what you want.”
“Now, that’s a very useful tidbit,” the woman said. She bestowed a warm smile on Leah. “I am Seka Mardis, by the way,” she added. Leah had no idea if Seka was her title, her first name, or some other identifier. “I am visiting from the Karkades.”
“I’m Leah,” she answered. “I’m just about to open a boutique in the shop district.” She faked a start of realization. “I specialize in foreign goods. You might drop by and see if there’s anything that would interest you.”
“I would be happy to do that. I have only been in Welce a short while, but already I miss some of the scents and colors of home.”
“I spent five years in Malinqua,” Leah said. “It was a couple of quintiles before I got used to the food.”
“It is both the biggest advantage and biggest disadvantage of foreign travel,” Seka Mardis agreed. “I have not traveled often beyond our borders, but I am hoping that one day soon—”
She didn’t get a chance to complete her thought, because there was a sudden quiet presence at the door. Darien’s servant was back, bowing deeply. “The regent will see you now,” he announced to the room.
“Excellent,” Seka Mardis murmured.
Leah worked hard not to let her irritation show as she tried to figure out a casual way to remind Seka to visit her shop. But she didn’t have to; Seka seemed just as interested in initiating a friendship as Leah was. “I would so much like to see the goods you have in your boutique,” she said. “Where exactly is it?”
“I’ll write down the address for you,” Leah replied, scrawling the information on a piece of paper that someone had left behind. “I won’t be open for a few more days, but I’d love to have you as one of my first customers!” She gestured at the men, who were waiting impatiently at the door. “And all your friends.”
“We’ll be by soon,” Seka Mardis promised. “Leah.” And she nodded and hurried out.
Leah sank back in her chair, watching the visitors walk out. Many of her conversations back in Malinqua had started the same way when she was trying to cultivate new sources. She had exchanged a few words with a café owner, a bartender, an ostler, a maid. Asked no questions, made no promises, just appeared amiable and mildly curious. Some of the friendships had yielded nothing but a few desultory conversations; others had provided a valuable stream of useful information. It was hard to know for sure, but she thought a relationship with Seka Mardis would fall in the second category.
And so it begins again, she thought. She could feel herself smiling.
• • •
Virrie and Mally didn’t drop by the shop during the afternoon, but they were waiting outside Leah’s apartment when she got home that night. The evening air was cool, but they weren’t shivering in the street. They were sitting inside an idling elaymotive, with the heating system activated in the back and a grinning Yori sitting in the front.
“What are all of you doing here?” Leah demanded, leaning in through a window.
“We’ve come to take you to Nelson’s,” Virrie said. “He’s having an impromptu party. Mostly family.”
Leah took in such a quick breath that she almost started coughing. “So then why are we invited?” she said a little sharply
“Oh, Nelson knows Taro’s gone home and Mally
and I are here without him, and he wants to make sure we aren’t lonely,” was Virrie’s affable response. “And I think he’s worried about you. Living in this little place all by yourself. He thinks you just sit here all night and brood.”
Nelson indeed might have said that. Virrie could have come up with it on her own, too. Leah eyed the older woman with a certain hostility, but they both knew she wouldn’t be able to resist going. Especially not when Mally stretched forward to smile at her.
“I think it will be fun,” Mally said. “Virrie says there will be lots of kids! You should come, too.”
“Well—” Leah glanced down at her clothes. She’d dressed up to visit Darien, but after working in the shop for five hours she’d managed to get dirt on her trousers and dust on her tunic. “Maybe I should change.”
Virrie pushed the door open. “Oh, don’t bother. You know no one at Nelson’s house cares what you look like.”
Leah sighed and settled onto the bench seat, Mally’s warm little body between her and Virrie. “No one at your house ever cares what anyone looks like,” Leah corrected. “When Nelson feels like it, he can put the rest of us to shame.”
Yori put the car in motion and soon they were winding down the Cinque to the most prosperous part of town, where the majority of the Five Family members had their city houses. “It’s a little funny, isn’t it?” Virrie said. “None of the primes really care about fashion. Taro always looks like an old farmer. Zoe would rather wear rags and camp on the river than dress in formal attire to attend a banquet. Kayle Dochenza—if he even remembers to change clothes once a nineday, I’d be surprised. And Mirti Serlast—well. It’s pointless to even speculate what might be in her closet. Of course Nelson can outdo any of them! It’s not difficult.”
