"That's better now," Mange was saying as he moved forward. "Nice and compliant, like a good old Rankan bitch."
What happened next caught everyone by surprise, including Mariat. Incensed with rage at hearing his grandmother addressed so, young Keldrick broke free of his fear. He leapt forward with a kick, putting all the weight of his body into it, which slammed with a sickening thud into Mange's groin.
The bounty hunter screamed in surprise and pain, and fell to the ground, rolling in agony and clutching at his crotch.
Wik grabbed hold of Keldrick and lifted the boy high into the air, shaking him. Speido sprang forward and backhanded Mariat across the face, knocking her to the ground. Then he scooped up Darseeya and Timock into his lanky arms.
Suddenly, the feathered shafts of two darts sprouted from Wik's right shoulder. The big oaf bellowed and dropped Keldrick to the ground. Then Wik spun around tugging at the hated sting in his back.
Sinn came roaring out of the night like a demon released from hell. Behind him ran the street urchin to whom, two days before, he had given a silver bit in the Bazaar. The boy, named Jakar, had seen Smn wandering lost in the Maze and had returned the bard's generosity by leading him out of the tangled streets and to the Warm Kettle.
Speido dropped the children he was holding and pulled his dagger. Mariat staggered to her feet and screamed.
"Murder! Murder! Help!!" She prayed desperately for the watch to hear and answer her cry.
Sinn pulled up short and drew his weapon on Speido. When the sniveling youth saw that his dagger was facing a short sword, he lost all heart for the fight and tried to turn tail and run for it.
Speido only made it a few feet before Keldrick threw himself across the thief's path. Speido tripped and sprawled headlong on the ground, and Jakar leapt immediately on his back and battered the thief into unconsciousness with a small cudgel.
Mange was still lying on the ground clutching himself and watching the world spin around. But Wik, having pulled the darts from his shoulder, roared like a bull as he plowed into Sinn, bowling the minstrel over with the sheer bulk of his weight.
As the giant pinned Sinn to the ground, the bard felt his breath quickly leaving him. He worked his sword arm free and slammed the flat of the blade against the big man's skull. Had he known Wik any better, he would have aimed for a more vital part of the man's anatomy.
Wik rose from the ground like the personification of wrath. In his upraised hands, he lifted the man who had interrupted a simple, uncomplicated assignment. The big brute ignored the old woman and children clinging to his massive frame who were trying to deflect him from his purpose. He hurled the minstrel at the nearest wall with all the force he could muster.
Sinn felt some of his ribs crack and give way as he slammed into the building. As he crumpled to the ground in a mangled heap, he strove to fight off the darkness which was insisting on overwhelming him. He could not leave Mariat and the children undefendedBut as he lost his grip on the conscious world, he heard at last the unmistakable voice of the watch.
"Halt in the name of the prince!!" they cried.
Then oblivion took him.
Bakarat shifted his massive bulk uncomfortably in his seat. He looked disdainfully at his five fellow merchants seated in the common room of the Warm Kettle. The chairs Shamut had provided for the meeting were quite comfortable for them, but a man of the Toad's prestigious girth needed something more accommodating to his size.
He was about to call for Shamut to give him something more comfortable, when Mariat made her entrance into the room.
The fat merchant regarded her with hate. Somehow, she had made his plans last night go awry. He had learned from his underground network of informants that Mange and his cohorts had failed in their task. Bakarat did not worry about them implicating him. He had too many friends in high places. But he was exceedingly aggravated at having to enter this meeting without leverage over the woman Mariat.
The Rankan widow cleared her throat and called the meeting to order.
"Gentlemen," she began. "My thanks to you for taking time out of your busy and pressing schedules to come to this little get-together. I promise you I will make it worth your while."
Bakarat smiled to himself as he glanced at his business associates and saw the skeptical looks on their faces. Although none of them would ever sink to the depths of criminal intrigue at which the Toad operated, they were all shrewd businessmen who looked cynical of the fact that a woman could have something of interest for them to consider, other than her body-
"First," Mariat continued, "allow me to make two special introductions."
As she spoke, a young boy in his early teens entered the room. He brought with him a clean slate upon which he began to draw a map.
"This is my grandson Keldrick, who has recently proved himself man enough to take part in this assembly."
The merchants shifted uncomfortably, not quite understanding what she meant. Bakarat was becoming more and more agitated as the scene developed according to Mariat's plan.
"And may I also introduce Lord Molm Torchholder, who has come to hear and appraise our proposal as well."
Now the men in the room were absolutely stunned. ,They sprang to their feet, knocking over some of their chairs, in order to give due deference to the Rankan priest whom all knew by reputation. Bakarat was embarrassed to find that his chair followed him when he stood up to bow to the Torch. With his fat rump squeezed against its sides, the chair had a grip on him like a vise.
"Please be seated, gentlemen." Lord Torchholder waved all of them back to their chairs. "Let us hear what Madame Mariat has to say to us."
The merchants sat themselves down and now gave their alert attention to the Rankan widow. The presence of Lord Torchholder gave immense credibility to Mariat. Now they were willing, even eager, to hear what she had to say. All of them except the Toad.
"Thank you, my lord," Mariat acknowledged Molin's statement. "And now to the business at hand."
"All of you are aware that Aquinta wine was the most sought-after vintage in all the Empire. In fact, I have been informed by Lord Torchholder that only the wealthiest of Sanctuary's elite have ever been able to sample its famous bouquet."
"That's true," said one of the merchants, "but what is that to us? We have all heard what happened in Aquinta. There will be no more wine forthcoming from those fields."
"That is sadly all too true," Mariat continued. "But I have called you gentlemen here today to inform you that I possess an entire wagonload of Aquinta's finest vintage, and I have it safely housed right here in Sanctuary!"
The implications of the announcement were not lost on this group of men. Being merchants, they all knew that one or two bottles of the precious, now priceless wine would bring an unbelievable price at auction. To tell them that an entire wagonload was available was like telling someone that a mountain of gold is waiting in his backyard, ripe for the taking. Even Bakarat, who knew the purpose of the meeting (or so he thought), was taken aback.
"So you're coming to us to back the auction of your merchandise?" one of the other merchants asked hopefully.
"Yes, but that is not the end of it," Mariat said. Now was the time to present her plan-her whole reason for coming to Sanctuary. She said a silent prayer as she prepared to reveal her proposal to these men of business and profit.
Bakarat was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. First the woman had thrown in an ace in the hole by inviting the Torch. Now she was introducing an entirely new scheme. He felt control of the meeting slipping from his already shaky grasp.
"Just a moment," the Toad objected. "Either you want us to help you sell the stuff, or you don't. Which is it? I wish you would get to the point because our time is very valuable."
"Very well," Mariat replied, staying calm and showing much more common sense than the fat merchant was displaying.
"The prime vintage was not the only treasure I have brought to this city." Mariat paused. She had them completel
y in her grasp. They were all wondering what else could possibly match the revelation of wealth she had already made. All of them were on the edge of their chairs, except for the Torch, who already knew of her plan.
"In another wagon, I brought with me five hundred saplings of my hardiest vines from Aquinta. They have been stripped and prepared for travel, but within six months of their planting they will yield fruit from which we can begin pressing wine. Within three years, we will have the first fine vintage ready. In the meantime, we will slowly auction off the wine I have brought from Aquinta for capital."
She paused to let her proposal sink in. The Torch, she knew, was already willing to back her. The other five merchants were looking at each other thoughtfully. But the Toad was shaking with beet-faced rage. He looked like he might literally croak. He could not accept the fact that he was being outmaneuvered by a woman.
"You're insane," he said, rising and knocking the chair off his huge butt. "And the rest of you are insane if you're going to seriously consider this cockeyed plan. She wants you to pour your money into this ridiculous scheme of hers, and for what?" He turned to Mariat again. "What do we get in return for our investment? Three years of waiting and then nothing when it falls apart'"
"Please, To-1 mean, Master Bakarat, calm yourself. My plan is as wise an investment as most. I am putting my entire life's savings into this venture, and I am opening up this proposal to let some of you in on it from the beginning. All I need is the capital to buy the land, the proper equipment, and hire the laborers. I supply the vines and the supervision of the vineyard. I offer the investors a forty percent share of the first five years' profits, after the wine becomes sellable. In the meantime, I offer the same percentage for all the existing wine we sell over the next three years. Gentlemen, you cannot lose."
"What makes you think you're qualified to run a vineyard?" Bakarat exclaimed.
"The fact that, with my husband, I operated the most successful vineyard in the Rankan Empire-the Aquinta!" Mariat countered the fat merchant. "Who do you think helped my husband all through the years with the operation of the winery? I even ran it alone when he was gone for long periods on business."
It was obvious that the other merchants were rapidly becoming convinced.
"This is madness, I tell you," Bakarat continued, oblivious of all reason himself. "There is no place to plant a vineyard in Sanctuary!"
"No, not in the city proper," Mariat agreed. "But outside the walls there lies tillable land that has lain fallow for years. I have examined the land and the soil, and found plots in the hills and the upper swamps which will be suitable for grapes, given the proper drainage and irrigation."
She pointed to the maps that Keldrick had drawn, and showed the men where she planned to set up the winery.
"That's government land," the Toad shouted. "You won't be able to buy that for the price of your entire stock of vintage!"
"As a matter of fact," Molin Torchholder interceded, "she will be able to purchase it for the price of its back taxes. As the minister in charge of land development, I see no reason why this land should be unused. I have heard Madame Mariat's proposal, and I am ready to enter into an agreement with her on behalf of the prince. Who is with me?"
The merchants all stood and shouted their willingness to participate.
Bakarat was absolutely livid.
"I warn you," he threatened his associates, "if you enter into a pact with this woman, you will regret it."
"Master Toad," Mariat said in disdain. The merchant whirled on her, not believing that she would dare to address him so.
"This brings me to a bit of unpleasant business which I had hoped to delay until after the meeting. However, your arrogance and threats leave me no choice."
She opened the door and called into the hallway.
"Commander Walegrin, would you be so kind as to step in here, please?"
Mariat played her final card as the officer in charge of the city garrison strode into the room. Walegrin was followed by two of his men, one of whom was supporting the weak-looking figure of Sinn the minstrel.
"Commander, please perform your office." Mariat stepped back as Walegrin approached the completely dumbfounded Bakarat.
"I hereby place you, Bakarat the merchant, under arrest for conspiracy to commit kidnapping and extortion."
Fear struck the Toad for the first time.
"You can't do this to me," the fat man whined and objected. "You've got no evidence, no proof."
"Master Sinn," Walegrin asked, "would you be so kind as to affirm that you witnessed a conversation between Bakarat and three ruffians we now have in custody, in which the said Bakarat contracted their services to kidnap Mariat's grandchildren?"
"I do confirm it." Sinn managed to grate out the words between painclenched teeth. Though his broken ribs had been set and taken care of, he was not supposed to be up and about for another few weeks. He had insisted on coming, however, to play his part in the Toad's arrest.
Bakarat finally realized he was beaten, for the moment. He bowed his head in silence as Walegrin's guards bound his wrists. But as he left the room, the Toad lifted his ugly head to give Mariat one final, withering look of hatred and malice.
His glare said better than any words that he would not rest until he had paid her back for this indignity.
"Don't worry about this dung heap, madame," Walegrin said as he shoved Bakarat out of the room. "He's going to be keeping the rats in the dungeon company for a very long time. I hope they won't be offended by his moving in on them."
Walegrin and his men left the room with their prisoner, and Dansea, the innkeeper's wife, came in and helped Sinn back to his room.
Mariat turned to the merchants.
"Well, friends, are we ready to drink a toast to the Aquinta Cartel?"
They all agreed heartily. Darseeya and Timock came in on cue, bringing a bottle of fine Aquinta vintage, and the pact was sealed with a drink.
Later, Lord Torchholder witnessed the more formal written agreement as the merchants signed their names to support Mariat's proposal. And so the Aquinta Cartel was formed and officialized.
It was a beautiful day in the spring of Sanctuary as Mariat and her three grandchildren overlooked the land recently purchased by the Aquinta Cartel.
"There is so much work to be done," Mariat said to Keldrick, Darseeya, and Timock. "And we must never shirk from hard work. For on this land, we will build the new Aquinta."
"Keldrick," she said, bringing the boy around to face her. "You are the man of this family now. You must learn to lead as you have learned to be a man. I know you can, for you are the true son of your father and grandfather."
She paused and looked down at the run-down farmhouse which would soon be refurbished to be their home on the winery, in addition to the uptown mansion Lord Torchholder had arranged for them.
"Children, this is home, where we will spend our vintage years. This is where we build anew, from the ground up."
It was an entirely new kind of day dawning in Sanctuary. A day of hope.
QUICKSILVER DREAMS by Diana L. Paxson
"Aglon! I thought they'd killed you!"
He stands in her doorway, a pale figure in the moonlight that filters through the gauzy curtains, but no other man she knows has such fine shoulders or such a head of dark curly hai-r
"I'm surprised they let you come up to me at this hour-were you off on some mission? Why did they tell me you were dead?" Joia sits up in bed, throwing the covers aside in welcome. It must be late indeed, for the Aphrodisia House is silent.
He does not answer. Shadow veils him as he comes towards her. Then he's by the bed and once more the lightIalls across him. She sees him pale as a marble statue of a god-all except for the black gash in his throat where the blade went in ... She opens her lips to scream, but his touch freezes her.
Cold! He is so cold ...
"Eshi's tits! Joia, you gone crazy?"
The sharp slap was muffled by bed-curtains.
Still whimpering, the girl fell back against the silk cushions. A dark figure moved; light sparked from the flints and a wavering spark of lamplight firmed and grew.
"You're not Aglon!"
"Aglon's dead! You little bitch, have you had so many men you can't even remember?"
"Ricio ..." The name ended in a little catch of the breath. The girl pushed herself onto one elbow, brushing tumbled auburn curls away from her eyes. "Thank the gods! I thought Aglon's ghost was ... after me! I was so afraid."
She reached out to him, but he shrugged away her hand. He was very young, and the welts where she had scratched him were already rising red on his chest.
"Ricio, sweetest," whispered Joia. "You're not going to get mad just because I had a little nightmare? Look, I'm awake now. Don't want to waste the rest of the night, do you?"
"What's the use, if every time I touch you, you think I'm Aglon! I suppose all us garrison men are alike to you!" He sounded sullen, and she hid a smile.
"Oh, Ricio, it was a nightmare! He didn't mean anything to me once I met you!" This time he did not brush away her caress, but he was still frowning. "Look-this is the only thing he ever gave me-" Lamplight played like quicksilver on the glimmering surface of the ball the girl took from the night table. His belt pouch was hanging on the bedpost, and she dropped it in. "You take it, Ricio. I don't need it .anymore!"
Despite his pique his body was responding. Joia's hands grew bolder.
"You scratched me ..." he said hoarsely, turning at last.
"I'll kiss it better, so?"
The guardsman groaned and eased back against the cushions as she bent over him.
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