by Myers, Karen
Then both the boys walked off into the gathering dusk the way they’d come, leading the tired horses behind them.
Najud halted alongside her. “Thought we could stay a night in a merchant inn. Lots of stabling, easy access to market.”
“Didn’t you want to see Tak Tuzap? Don’t they have markets south of the river?”
“Wanted to see Dzantig, too,” he said. “Plenty of time for Tak after that.”
He looked at her. “I think you’ll like this place. Meals, beds, and a real bath, with hot water.”
Her stomach growled at the suggestion, and he smiled.
“Good. Thought you’d agree.”
An actual dinner, with civilian sophistication. Penrys didn’t think she’d eaten so well in a very long time. Somehow it tasted all the better after a long soak in hot water, with Najud in another tub nearby.
She’d held her left hand out of the water but removed the neck bandage, willing to replace it afterward in their room for the pleasure of truly clean hair. When they were done, it was just a simple walk from their room down a flag-stoned passage to the inn’s common room and a heavy meal.
Najud thumped his empty mug on the table and raised it for service, while Penrys shook her damp hair and yawned before she could raise her fist to cover her mouth.
“Wake up, now, we’re going to have company,” Najud told her.
At her puzzled look, he cocked his head at the entrance. She realized he’d been watching it all through the meal.
She peered at the man walking in, and blinked. It was Dzantig, and he carried a canvas-wrapped package under his arm.
“I called him,” Najud said, tapping his forehead meaningfully. “Wasn’t sure he’d come.”
He kicked out an empty chair at the table as Dzantig drew up. “Sit. You’ve eaten?”
Dzantig looked ill at ease. “I couldn’t get away earlier, so I had to wait until after dinner.”
Penrys had straightened up in her chair. “You look well, considering.”
“And you, brudigna.” He settled into his chair and a man walking by handed out two mugs, one for him and another for Najud.
“I think I owe you my life,” Penrys said, soberly. “Twice. Once in the tunnels, and once bleeding to death at the barricade.”
She felt the burden of the debt as an ache in her chest. “I don’t know how to repay you.”
Najud took a lengthy pull from his mug, and smiled. “Good thing that I do.”
Both the others turned to stare at him.
“Here’s what we should do,” he said. “I want to set up a trade route, over the High Pass, on the border in Song Em. Bring a caravan through regularly, up all the way to Gonglik, right here.” He hooked a thumb out in the direction of the market square.
“Trade with the Zannib?” Dzantig said, stunned.
“Why not? Must have plenty to sell.”
Dzantig waved that aside. “That’s not it. It’s never been done.”
“So?”
Penrys leaned back and watched Najud in professional action as a trader for the first time.
“What if this truce ends up with us all returning to Nagthari?” Dzantig protested.
“Are there no roads to Linit Kungzet and beyond? Shortcuts, too, maybe.”
Dzantig paused with his mouth open, and Najud laughed at him.
“I don’t have any authority to do this.”
“Who does?”
That stopped Dzantig altogether. “I don’t know.”
“Would they want this, the Rasesni?”
Dzantig nodded, hesitantly. “Some of them. But what about Kigali? They’ll never let it happen, trade with another country that they don’t control.”
Najud shrugged. “We can adjust as we go along. It’s a long border.”
Penrys interrupted. “Do you want this, Dzantig? Would you like to be part of it?”
He drained the rest of his mug in silence while he thought about it, and they respected his delay.
“Yes,” he said, slowly. “Yes, I would. The wizards who want to share knowledge survived better than the jealous ones like Dhumbhod—Vejug the traitor is an embarrassment to them now and they don’t want to be linked to him. The new Mage Council would probably agree. That Rinshradke is part of it now, Zandaril, and she thinks well of you. And what the wizards want, they mostly get.”
“Priests aren’t dumb about what might happen otherwise, eh?” Najud said.
“It’s not just that,” Dzantig said.
He looked at Penrys. “I told them what happened that night, everything except the names of where you went, and I told them that Dzangab had required it of me. This has created some… divine authority for change. We are at a decision point, some think, about what we should do, and the balance may have shifted.
“What you propose, Zandaril, that might tilt the balance even further.”
He swallowed. “Yes, I want to be part of this.”
Najud nodded genially. “Good. Here’s what you do. I want you to be my factor. Tak Tuzap can probably help you, introduce you to the merchants here in Gonglik. You carry my proposal to the council and tell them—without you, I say there’s no deal.”
Dzantig’s eyes widened and Penrys hid a smile.
“Tell them it will take a year to get the first caravan organized, maybe two. You get paid like any factor, a percentage of the value of the goods. Tak Tuzap can explain how it works.”
“But, but…” Dzantig sputtered.
Najud pressed past his objections. “I will check sarq-Zannib treaties with Rasesdad and Kigali, and if something needs to change, we will change it. Yes?”
Dzantig finally got his objection out. “You’re not in charge in sarq-Zannib, you can’t just make this happen.”
“Well, if we are all at war, you’re probably right. If not, what is there to lose by trying?”
Penrys nodded and ticked off a mark on Najud’s side. If she’d been keeping score, that would have been a winner.
“Besides,”Najud said, “I do know people on the Ghuzl mar-Tawirqaj in Ussha, and both of us are currently in favor with the Liju, the Emperor, at the moment.”
“Long may it last,” muttered Penrys, and both heads turned to her.
She thought back to books she had read in the Collegium. “In sarq-Zannib, new caravans based in the west would bring in entirely different goods from the established ones in the east, while the outgoing market is barely served. Not so much for the big traders to object to, not much overlap, isn’t that right?”
Najud nodded. “It’s not impossible.”
“And I bet no one knows if Kigali would object, or not,” Penrys offered. “Try it and find out.”
CHAPTER 62
Najud opened his eyes cautiously in the morning, waiting to find out if he had a headache or not. He moved his head and confirmed the anticipated punishment. Good thing I don’t have to celebrate new deals every night.
Penrys’s side of the bed was empty and no longer warm, and he was alone in the room. He flung the sheets and soft blanket aside and sat up, scratching. When he ran his eyes over his clothing, scattered in the direction of the chair, he missed the flash of color he expected.
*Where’s my robe?*
A mental chuckle returned to him. *I’ve got it. Get back into bed, I’m bringing a visitor.*
Incoherent outrage seized him, and then he heard footsteps coming and took her advice, pulling the covers back over him.
Penrys knocked once on the door in warning before unlocking it and ushering in her guest. Najud pegged him as a merchant—a tailor, judging by the tools belted around him.
“Najud, this is Chak Zobu. He owns the tailor shop in the square. I wanted to find fabric for another robe—you can’t go all the way back to sarq-Zannib on a single robe, it’s ridiculous. But this is better—he can make you one, he says. He was nice enough to come with me to take measurements so you wouldn’t have to spend time there yourself.”
Chak looked fro
m the obviously naked man under the bedclothes to the robe in Penrys’s hand and clearly decided discretion was his best option.
“Binochi, it would be my pleasure to provide fresh clothing for you. The lady tells me you will need everything by tomorrow morning, early. This is so?”
Najud tried to rescue whatever dignity he could from the situation and nodded. “We leave tomorrow, after breakfast, Tailor-chi. Have you made robes to that pattern before?”
He nodded at his one robe still in Penrys’s grasp. Since his ceremonial robe was buried in the packs in the stable, he needed to get this one back.
The tailor carefully took it from her and shook it out to lay it smoothly across the bottom of the bed. Najud snaked his feet up to sit cross-legged and give him a flat surface.
Chak ran his hand lovingly over the front of the robe. “The material is very fine, sir. Himmib, the fine goat hair, if I’m any judge, yes?”
At Najud’s nod, he continued. “Soft and warm, but not very strong, is it? I rarely see such fabric, but perhaps a soft but durable sheep’s wool will do for travel? We have some fine dark colors, such as a man like yourself might favor.”
Penrys’s grin distracted him, but he managed to reply, “Dark colors, blue or brown, would do well for a plain robe. I do not expect you to mimic the ornamentation, Tailor-chi.”
His gaze softened when it rested on the garment. His nurti, his second sister had embroidered the collar and edges a couple of years ago and given it to him as a bawi-anit gift, for his name day. It still fit him, and reminded him of her whenever he saw it. The rougher robe he’d been wearing had been ruined in his captivity.
He glanced up at Penrys, detecting a bit of uncertainty behind her insouciance. It was well-thought of her, to arrange this, he admitted, despite the methods she’d used.
Chak broke into his thoughts. “No, binochi, we can’t do that in a day, and I suspect it was a hand you know who set this work for you.”
Najud gave him a sharp look. “Plain and tough and warm will do well enough for travel. Can you match this one as a pattern?”
“Nothing easier, binochi.”
He cleared his throat. “The lady suggested that the rest of your apparel might need augmentation. Perhaps you could suggest your needs?”
Penrys said, “I’ll just step out for a moment and let you two discuss it. Two robes, mind,” she told the tailor. “Your best material for the purpose.”
She narrowed her eyes at Najud. “We have plenty of room in the packs. Don’t stint on this.”
He raised his hands in surrender and shooed her out of the room.
For the next several minutes, he discussed options with the tailor. Small clothes and socks were easily handled, and shirts and breeches to his current pattern as well. When the tailor asked about over-garments for bad travel weather, they settled on cloaks of the type the miller in Lupmikya had given them, long since seized by the Khrebesni, and two sorts of hats, a front-brimmed cap to wear under the hooded cloak for light precipitation, and a full brimmed one for serious rain or snow, to wear on top of the hood. Chak’s suggestion for heavy knitted caps for outdoor sleeping was also accepted.
When all the measurements were completed, and Najud had gratefully dressed, Penrys’s knock sounded again on the door. She must have been monitoring to get the timing that precise.
When he opened to door for her, she looked up at him with a question on her face. *Everything all right?*
“Good idea, Pen-sha,” he assured her. “Now it’s your turn.” He laughed at the dismay on her face.
“What, you thought you’d get away?”
He hauled her into the room by her good arm and presented her to Chak as he closed the door behind her and blocked it. “Good Tailor-chi, you see what she has. Rough-made stuff, fits badly, not comfortable. What can you do, by tomorrow morning?”
Chak looked her over briefly. “Do you want clothing of a similar fashion, minochi, but more suitable for rough travel? That would be quite easy to do quickly. Now what are your preferences? Colors?”
As he spoke, he picked up his paper and charcoal to take notes. He ran his measuring tape over her, from bottom to top, but as he started on her shoulders, the chain resting on the top of the bandage around her neck caught his eye, and he dropped his tape with a gasp and backed up, bowing deeply as he went.
“Your pardon, minochi—this posom should have realized—they said she was traveling with a Zan.”
He backed up another step. “They say you killed the demon that was coming.”
His face stared at the floor in his deepest bow, and he held that position.
Najud watched the dismay spread on Penrys’s face, followed by a deep flush.
Good. Someone here appreciates what she did. She should hear it.
“Never mind all that,” she stuttered out, and coughed as if something were choking her.
“Um, look, I would be grateful if you would advise me.”
Chak straightened up cautiously.
She removed the glove from her left hand and showed him what was left, wrapped in its bandage. “As you see. Maybe there are fasteners for clothing that would work better for me, encumbered as I am. Toggles instead of buttons?”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“And gloves… see how this one is padded? I need two thin pairs, and two thicker ones, don’t you think? And sheep’s wool to fill them, yes? More wrapping for the arm, too—it’s a long trip.”
Chak began to lose his awe as she engaged him in a technical discussion, and Najud approved her tact with him.
“The same kind of outer garments that he asked for should work for me, and the socks, and all. But, um, I will need some sort of breast support I can manage one-handed. Do you think there’s something you could recommend?
*Ah, now, I’m always happy to help you with that, on or off.*
She didn’t turn her head to look at him, but Najud watched with interest as a blush warmed her cheeks.
They worked out the rest of the details, and Penrys added two blankets to the list.
When she pressed a gold coin on the tailor, removed ahead of time from the pouch Tun Jeju had presented to her, he backed away and raised his hand to stop her.
“No need, minochi. No need.”
“Nonsense. You should have money up front, and perhaps extra for the rush and personal attention.”
“Minochi, this is my honor, that my shop should provide such services for you.”
“You will please me by taking the money, and you can say whatever you wish to your other customers about it. I am sure we will be very happy with the results.”
Ultimately, Chak pocketed the coin and bowed his way out, clutching his notes.
She closed the door behind her and dropped into the chair with a sigh of relief. “I didn’t expect all that. Not used to someone looking at the chain as anything other than an odd necklace.”
Najud asked, “If you wanted better clothing before, why didn’t you get it, instead of putting up with the army clothes?”
Penrys stared at him. “How? I didn’t have any money, and there was no place to get better clothes anyway.”
Idiot. Of course she didn’t have any money, arriving from Ellech as she did. She took what she was given, like any soldier. I didn’t think about that.
His eye fell on Dzantig’s package, the one he had brought with him last night.
“I have something for you, too.
He pointed at the package. “Go ahead, take a look.”
She bounced up and started to unfold the canvas wrapped around it. She used her bad hand to help where she could, to Najud’s approval.
Penrys picked up each book as it appeared and read the title. “Look, two books about wizardry, for Dzangab, his god, and a grammar, and a Rasesni/Kigali dictionary.”
She beamed at Najud. “Why did he bring these?”
“I told him it was for me, but I wondered how much Rasesni you might keep after we left.”
/> She nodded as he spoke. “I’d retain a lot of it, since we used it so much, but it would fade. This is perfect, it’ll help us preserve it.”
“Dzantig warned me the grammar was for the godly language, closer to what the books are written in, not the popular one we’ve been using.”
“It’s always that way,” she said. “You should see the shelves and shelves of formal languages that aren’t used anymore, at the Collegium.”
CHAPTER 63
“So this is Tak Tuzap’s house?” Najud said.
Dzantig, who had kept up a running commentary ever since they crossed the bridge and entered the densely populated main city with its busy morning traffic, wound down to a stop and gaped.
Penrys replied, “Can’t say for sure, but this is where he is, anyway.” She had followed her link to him, allowing Dzantig to steer her to wider roads whenever the direct route was blocked.
They stood together at the entrance to a samke compound that occupied a full block, just around the corner from another one of Gonglik’s many broad markets. The gates were open, and a steady stream of people passed in and out, and crossed the inner paths to the various buildings. Only a small portion of it was a family dwelling, the rest appearing to be warehouses, workshops, and even a substantial stable and freight yard.
“No point waiting,” Najud said, and he walked up the stone steps to the family door and tapped the wanbum with his knuckle. The little gong made a mellow but penetrating sound.
He spoke to the servant who answered, and then beckoned them all to join him.
The small hall was graciously proportioned, its floor tiled with stylized hunting scenes, but Penrys noted empty spaces on the walls giving evidence of missing decorations, and the surfaces of the tables and benches that lined it were curiously bare.
Stolen, or removed for safety?
The servant led them to a back room on the ground floor, tapped on the door and cracked it enough to consult, then opened it wide and ushered them in, Najud in the lead.
Tak Tuzap rose from his chair at a long table, his brush hastily laid down and still rocking on its rest. “I heard about it, everyone knows.”
