Unquiet Land

by Sharon Shinn

  “No, it’s mine. But I could tell you where I purchased it. They might have more left.”

  “I’d probably have to feed it, though, wouldn’t I? And make sure it always had enough water.” The queen laughed. “I tend not to be very good at remembering to care for other creatures.”

  Her companion, who was a few paces away, looked up with a sardonic expression. “That’s what servants are for,” she said.

  “I’ve never been very good at it, either,” Leah said. Though I’m getting better. “So far I’ve managed to keep the fish alive. That seems like a good start.”

  “Next you could get a whole school of fish,” the queen suggested, amused. “Then perhaps a stable of horses. And eventually, who knows? Children!”

  Leah hoped her smile covered the painful contraction of her heart. “It might take a while to work up to that,” she said.

  Alys wandered over to the other side of the shop, still trailing her fingers over every surface. “Do you want children, Leah?” she asked. Her tone was idle and incurious, as if she was just trying to maintain a polite conversation with a stranger. But Leah felt another skip in her heartbeat. She had the sense that Alys never posed casual questions.

  “I might,” she said. “If the circumstances were right.”

  Alys lifted her eyebrows. “Circumstances?”

  How had they gotten on this topic? So quickly, so smoothly? How could Leah get them off of it? “If I had enough money, a big house, a reliable husband—you know, if I thought I could give a child a good life.”

  “There are a lot of reasons it’s important to have the right husband, but you don’t need one to have a baby,” Alys said, laughing.

  Well, you were married when you had your daughter, though your husband didn’t sire the child. And you were married the second time you got pregnant, too, though I understand you never brought that child to term. Naturally, Leah did not say either of these things. Instead, she smiled her agreement. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “But for the moment, I’ll stick with fish.”

  Alys picked up a Dhonshon scarf—dark green, shot through with gold and yellow—and draped it over her red curls. She glanced in a mirror, then turned to Leah, her eyebrows up in a question. How do I look?

  “A magnificent color for you, majesty,” Leah said.

  With a quick motion, Alys slipped the scarf off her own head and flipped it onto Leah’s, coming close enough to tuck the ends into the top of Leah’s tunic. “Even more suitable for you,” the queen decided, tilting her head to one side. “It brings out the highlights in your hair, which is somewhat dark. A little more rouge, a bit of lightening right here—” She reached up a delicate forefinger to trace the curve of Leah’s eyebrow. “You could be a very pretty woman.”

  “Thank you, majesty,” Leah said.

  The queen was still regarding her, tapping her own lip with one finger. “It’s so odd,” she said. “I feel like I’ve seen you before. More than once. Could that be?”

  Welchin was not a good language for cursing, but Leah silently chanted a few satisfactory Coziquela obscenities she’d learned over the years. “I don’t know. I grew up in Welce, but I’ve been living abroad for some time. I’ve only been back a few ninedays.”

  “Yes, my memory of you could easily be several years old,” Alys said. She reached up to adjust the scarf, pushing it back to reveal more of Leah’s hair. “We were at a dinner or a party or someplace fancy. And you were very well-dressed. Does that sound familiar?”

  Indeed it did. “No, your majesty.”

  “Who were your parents?”

  “My father was an actor, and my mother was a young woman who fell in love with him,” Leah said, managing a wry smile. “From what I understand, it was something that happened a great deal.”

  The queen laughed. “Oh, I had a sweela father, so I understand that very well!” she exclaimed. “Perhaps I saw you in some theatrical production? Though that doesn’t feel right.”

  Leah spread her hands helplessly. “I wouldn’t think so.”

  “Well, I’ll think of it. I always remember things when I want to.”

  Leah reached up and slowly pulled the scarf from her head, then folded it into neat thirds. Altogether, this day was proving to be a challenge to her nerves. “Is there anything else I can show you?”

  Alys turned back toward the sweela displays. “I want to take another look at that ruby necklace.”

  Ten minutes and ten gold pieces later, the sweela queen and her friend were gone. Leah waited until they were lost among the crowd of other shoppers on the street, then turned to give Annova an expressive look. A smile was already lightening Annova’s dark face.

  “Of all the people I thought might recognize me, Queen Alys wasn’t even on the list!” Leah exclaimed.

  “Do you remember meeting her?”

  “Oh yes. I was at a party at Nelson’s and I was—” I was arguing with Rhan. Mostly because he was flirting with Alys. “And I wasn’t having a particularly good time. But I don’t remember doing anything so remarkable that the queen would have had any reason to notice me.”

  Annova shrugged. “Does it matter if she knows who you are? You’re not trying to conceal the fact that you grew up in Welce, are you?”

  It matters because she might remember that I was at the party with Rhan. Because she might figure out the truth about me. About Mally. Because someday I want everyone to know that Mally belongs to me, but I don’t want them to learn that information from Alys.

  Because I don’t want her to find some way to hurt Mally.

  “No, it doesn’t matter at all,” Leah said, trying to speak lightly. “Now let’s decide what we can bring downstairs to replace that ruby necklace she bought! I can’t say I like Alys very much, but she certainly has excellent taste.”

  • • •

  On ninthday, Annova and Chandran and Leah reviewed their inventory and discussed what items Leah should look for when she drove to the harbor in the morning. When Annova headed out to pick up lunch, Leah invited Chandran to accompany her on the buying trip, and she was surprised and disappointed when he declined.

  “It is is a very long ride to the harbor and back in very small quarters, and that is too much intimacy for a long day,” he explained. “We must abide by the rules we ourselves have set.”

  “Yori will be with us the whole time. The driver.”

  He looked at her. “A large man might easily overcome two women. Especially on an extended journey down an often deserted road.”

  “I can defend myself better than you seem to realize,” Leah said with mordant humor. “And Yori has never said so, but I’m sure she’s one of Darien’s guards, not just a driver. You might find us harder to disable than you think.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” he said. “Maybe some other time.”

  She returned to Darien’s house that night feeling confused and slightly depressed, though she tried to shake off the mood so she could enjoy the evening. Both Josetta and Rafe had been gone for most of the nineday—she to work in her southside shelter, he to do a stint flying test aeromotives for Kayle Dochenza.

  “You might even run into him down at the harbor tomorrow,” Virrie said. “Since that’s where Kayle’s factory is based. They say that sometimes the pilots fly over the harbor itself, and everyone runs outside and stares up at the sky, shouting and pointing.”

  “I admit, I’d like to see an aeromotive one day,” Leah said. “Though I don’t think I’d want to be in one.” She appealed to Mally. “How about you? Would you like to go flying?”

  “No,” Mally said. “It’s too far from the ground.”

  “That’s exactly what Taro says,” Virrie observed. “But someday I’d like to be in one. Just to see what it’s like.”

  It was Leah’s turn to tuck Mally into bed and, as usual, Mally requeste
d a story. This time she was specific. “Tell me about when you were a little girl.”

  How much of this actual tale should she truthfully relate? “My mother was a rich young woman who fell in love with a poor young actor,” Leah said. “They didn’t have a house of their own. They lived in a big wooden wagon that was part of a caravan with seven or eight other wagons, and they traveled all across the western provinces, putting on plays. When I was born, they just kept traveling, so I grew up in that wagon.”

  Mally was fascinated. “There was no kitchen? What did you eat?”

  “Mostly we bought prepared or dried food when we stopped in little towns. Sometimes we made campfires and cooked outdoors.”

  “Did you sleep in the wagon?”

  “Mostly. Sometimes in the summer we’d sleep outside under the stars.”

  “Right on the ground?” The idea seemed to please her.

  “Well, we had blankets. But yes. On the ground.”

  “That would be the best,” Mally decided. “I want to do that.”

  Leah tilted her head. “You’ve never slept outside? That surprises me. I have to believe Taro does it with some regularity. Or rather, that some nights he’s out walking the estates and just forgets to come home.”

  “I don’t know about Taro,” Mally said. “But I want to.”

  “Then we’ll do it sometime,” Leah promised. “When it’s warmer. You and me.” She smiled. “It will be the most fun I’ve ever had.”

  FOURTEEN

  Yori picked Leah up in the morning, so early that the whole world still looked black and white. The sky was nothing but a promise of light over a landscape of stark shadows, and frost added a pale gilding to the dark patterns of houses and trees.

  “It’s cold,” Leah complained as she slid into the front seat.

  Yori grinned. “It’s Quinnasweela.”

  They were down the Cinque and across the canal bridge before most of the city had woken up. Yori drove with her usual calm competence, but Leah couldn’t stop yawning for the first thirty minutes of the drive. It was her own fault that they’d set off at such an early hour. She wanted to get back tonight, no matter how late, because she had a shop to run in the morning. She needed to take advantage of every daylight hour available.

  They arrived in the harbor while it was still mid-morning, and the first thing Leah spotted was a heavy freighter tying up at the southernmost dock. It was flying a bold red flag divided by crossed swords and covered with a field of white flowers. “Look at that,” Leah said in satisfaction. “A Malinquese ship has just sailed into port. Let’s see what it has for sale.”

  The captain was a slim, hollow-eyed woman who looked frail enough to blow overboard in a high wind, but she had an eye for merchandise and a stubborn streak when it came to negotiating prices. Still, Leah bought three trunks of specialty foods, high-quality linens, and whimsical musical instruments and was convinced that she’d made a good deal.

  She was less successful with the next two ships she tried, both from Berringey, walking away completely empty-handed from the second one. But the fourth ship was the real prize. Not only did it hail from Cozique, but the captain had swung by the Karkades on his way to Welce. Half his crew was Karkan, and he had a hold full of merchandise Leah hadn’t seen anywhere else.

  “I have a few Karkan expatriates as customers, and I think they’re getting homesick,” she told him. “What could you sell me that would make them eternally grateful? What’s something they can’t get anywhere else but home?”

  Captain Demeset was a weathered old sailor with leathery skin, wild white hair, and a reprobate’s smile. That smile lit his face as he considered her question. “Let me check with the cook in the galley,” he said. “We brought treats for the crew—nothing we planned to sell, you understand—but there might be enough left to make up a special gift for a friend. If you would be willing to wait—?”

  Leah settled back in the hard chair in his tiny office. “I would.”

  “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  He was gone for fifteen minutes, during which time Leah tallied up what she’d purchased so far and how much money she had left to spend. Once she factored in the items she’d already committed to here, the answers were quite a lot and not too much. Well, she’d wrap up her business with Captain Demeset and then be on her way back to Chialto. It would be nightfall before they were home, but she considered it a good day’s work.

  Captain Demeset returned with an armload of small metal canisters that were stained with grease and dented from much use. “Cook says these are the three things Karkan sailors appreciate the most,” he told her, setting them on the small table. “Not too much left of any of them, but might be worth your money anyway.”

  Leah scooted closer, smiling broadly. She liked Captain Demeset’s attitude. “Let’s see.”

  He pried the lid off a small container, and the tiny office instantly filled with a dark and sweetly wistful scent that made Leah think of funeral feasts and mourning sachets. “I love that,” she said, inhaling deeply. “But it has an air of sadness to it. Is that an odd thing to say?”

  “I had the same thought,” the captain admitted. “Cook says it’s a spice that only the very wealthy can afford. He put it in a dinner pudding for a special occasion, and the Karkans went wild for it.”

  Leah nodded. “All right. And the next item?”

  This canister, when opened, released an odor so foul that both of them exclaimed aloud and Demeset recapped it as quickly as possible. “Cook said I wouldn’t like this one, but I think it’s gone bad,” he said. “Your pardon.”

  “Maybe not,” Leah said. “Did he put a name to it?”

  “Shilly—shilty—something unpronounceable,” Demeset replied.

  “From the way it was described to me, I believe that’s what it’s supposed to smell like,” she said. “But it’s even worse than I expected.”

  Demeset looked doubtfully at the canister. “I think it’s gone bad,” he repeated. “You can’t want this.”

  Leah smiled. “I think I do, though. But let’s see what’s in the last container.”

  The items in the final tin were hard, round candies with no particular scent, though both Leah and Captain Demeset were wary when the lid first came off. They peered in to try to get a rough count of the pieces inside—maybe thirty, Leah thought.

  “Cook says these are dessert treats, but they come with a little kick,” Demeset said. “More potent than wine, so he’ll only dole out one or two to a man.”

  “Easier to transport than liquor,” Leah observed. “But I hate to deprive your crew of a special indulgence.”

  Demeset grinned. “These are leftover bits. Cook says he’s got full tins of all three—though if he has any more of that shilly stuff in the galley, I’d be tempted to throw it overboard.”

  Leah laughed. “I don’t blame you. But my friend spoke of it so longingly that I’ve got to try to give her a supply.”

  “So you want all three?”

  “I do.”

  They haggled amiably over the price since, for Demeset, this was an add-on sale and he didn’t need to make much of a profit. When they were done, Leah had arranged to buy such a large quantity of merchandise that the captain wondered if she had enough room to transport it home.

  “I do,” she answered. “But my driver and I might need help getting it all in the elaymotive.”

  “Ah, now that’s something I’d like to get a closer look at,” Demeset answered.

  “Then come on down with me,” Leah invited. “And my driver will take you around the harbor.”

  • • •

  Once a couple of sailors had helped Leah and Yori pack all the goods into the smoker car, Yori took Captain Demeset on a quick tour through the nearest streets. He returned looking both delighted and unnerved.

  “It doesn’t
seem right that anything can travel like that, with nothing pulling it or pushing it along,” he said as he climbed out. “But I can think of ten lords in Cozique right now who might want to own such a thing.”

  “The elaymotives are built in a factory near here,” Leah told him. “I know the owner and I’m sure I could find the address.”

  “I know right where it is,” said Yori, who was lounging against the car and listening with interest. “I’ve taken the regent there a dozen times.”

  Demeset looked undecided. “Probably more than I could afford as a speculative investment.”

  “Maybe,” Leah said. “But it might be worth the conversation to find out.”

  Demeset nodded. “Let’s go talk to the owner.” He glanced at Leah. “If you have time to make the introduction?”

  She was eager to get back on the road, but she wouldn’t often have the chance to broker a deal between a Welchin prime and a Coziquela merchant, so she nodded and squeezed in next to Demeset in the front seat. Yori drove carefully through the crowded and poorly maintained streets until they arrived at a huge, featureless building with a bright yellow roof. Once they unfolded themselves from the smoker car, Demeset sniffed cautiously at the air, which was heavy with a bitter, oily odor.

  “It smells almost as bad as the shilly,” he remarked.

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  As they headed for the door, Leah was wondering if she should warn Captain Demeset about Kayle Dochenza. She’d known the elay prime fairly well when she lived with Taro and Virrie, and people weren’t entirely joking when they described him as a madman. Kayle Dochenza didn’t seem to move through the world with the same solidity as most people did; he appeared to be far more focused on thoughts and ideas than on living creatures occupying corporeal space. Strangers tended to find that unsettling the first time they met him.

  The door opened before she could reach for it, and Rafe Adova stepped out.

  “Leah!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

  She had completely forgotten Rafe might be at the harbor. She smiled at him. “I’m shopping for merchandise, of course.”