Galatzi Trade

by Robin Roseau

  She received a cheer in response, and I thought she was a popular leader. I had seen her lead, and I wasn't surprised.

  I just wish she would treat me as well as she treated her followers.

  If only she would learn to ask instead of order.

  She gave a short speech, but it wasn't until she talked about Mordain that I paid close attention. She talked about how much she already missed her little sister, and she knew many others here did as well. The crowd was quiet.

  Then she said, "I know you wonder what we have gained in trade for our loved one. You see this woman beside me, and you wonder. And I have ordered my fellow travelers to offer no hints. I can already see the looks of frustration when they refused your questions."

  That generated some nervous laughter.

  "But I see nervous looks, and I understand why. She is gagged, and we have not returned to Indartha with a gagged galatzi prisoner in the past. You wonder what this might mean."

  She was speaking carefully, both to be more easily understood by everyone here, but also so I could understand, and I actually appreciated that. But I was uncomfortable with her words. But she turned to me and pulled my chin more directly towards her. "Be brave," she said to me.

  She surprised me with those words.

  Then she brushed at my cheeks, and I realized there were tears. She said nothing for a minute, and the villagers waited, patiently, more or less.

  She offered a quick smile then turned back to them.

  "My galatzi prisoner is a strong, proud woman." She smiled at me again. "She is strong willed, amazingly intelligent, and knows things no one any of you have ever met knows. She is the most unique woman on all of Talmon, and she is now a woman of Indartha."

  That generated some whoops of joy, but they were also somewhat reserved.

  "You do not yet know how unique. My galatzi prisoner comes with an unexpected name. When speaking formally, she is called Cecilia Grace. Grace is a name she shares with her parents and her sister, and perhaps others in a larger family, but she and I have not yet discussed that. She answers to her given name of Cecilia."

  I could see the looks of confusion. The Talmonese did not have a family name, and Cecilia was not remotely a Talmonese name.

  Sartine paused, looking around. "I see questioning looks. None of you have heard of a person with two names like Cecilia carries. Is that not true?"

  I looked out at the crowd, and they were nodding. I was impressed with Sartine. She was a good speaker, and a natural at leading this way.

  I wondered if she was remotely as nervous as I was.

  "But that is not quite true, is it?" Sartine asked. She turned and pointed. "That is our schoolhouse." She pointed to the left of her manor home. "And in our schoolhouse, we have books. Not many, but a few. And amongst those books are two very, very, very old books, books from before there were people of Indartha. Books from a time before there were even people on Talmon. These books are written using words few of us understand."

  "None of us understand!" someone called out.

  She laughed. "Says our schoolteacher." And even I felt the amusement. "All right. These books are written using words none of us understand, and we do not even know the name of the language, although that is going to change. This woman, Cecilia Grace, can read these books."

  The crowd grew hushed.

  I turned to her and offered a pleading look.

  "Oh please," she said quietly. "You speak seventeen languages. What are the chances you can't read them?" And so I nodded.

  She turned back to the crowd. "Relain, we cannot read the books, but you once showed them to me, and you pointed to the words on the cover, and you told me the titles of these books. And you pointed to the names, and you said these were the people who wrote these books. Do you remember the names?"

  "One is Robert Givens," she called out. "The other is Beatrice Hastings." She pronounced both names poorly, stumbling over the sounds besides, but it was enough I could understand.

  "Yes," said Sartine. "The authors of these books carried two names."

  Then she waited, letting them think about it. None of them came to the conclusion yet, or at least they didn't voice it.

  Finally, Sartine continued. "Cecilia Grace, were you born in Sudden?"

  And slowly, quite deliberately, I shook my head.

  "Were you born anyplace anyone here would recognize?"

  Again I shook my head.

  Then she stepped closer. "They need to hear your accent," she said quietly. "Will you speak?" I nodded. "Will I regret your words?" and I shook my head.

  She didn't ask for more than that. Gently, she removed the gag, and then she plucked the rags from my mouth.

  I worked my mouth for a moment. "Thank you," I whispered. "What do I have to do to have my arms untied?"

  "The custom keeps them tied for now. We will discuss it later."

  I nodded then turned to the waiting people. There was mumbling, quiet discussions, but most of them were quiet. Here and there, I saw people pestering my fellow travelers, but they all had their lips clamped shut, and I was impressed. Their loyalty to Sartine was surprising.

  I smiled. Beside me, Sartine said, "You will need to speak loudly and carefully."

  I looked at her. "Oh please," I said. "I may be a poor diplomat, but I am not so poor I have never given a speech."

  She smiled and gestured to the crowd, so I turned back to them.

  I knew I wouldn't get many words out before I would be drowned in the surprise from my accent. And so I spoke loudly, projecting carefully. "People of Indartha!" I called out. "Thank you for the welcome to your home. My name is Cecilia Grace, but I answer most often to Cecilia. I know that is an unusual name for you to say. I also come with a title, which I will share shortly."

  I paused. "My name is unusual on Talmon, perhaps unique." I smiled. I knew it was unique. "I carry this unusual name and speak these words in such an unexpected fashion because I am not from Talmon." I raised my volume to speak over the ensuing responses. "My home is very, very far away, a the fourth planet circling a distant star called Centos. And so, my home is called Centos Four."

  I let them yell and babble, but when Sartine raised her hand, they grew quiet, more or less.

  "I have only a little more to say," I called out. "We have months and months to get to know each other better. First, I wish to say I am pleased to be here." I flashed a smile at Sartine. "In spite of what is to me a very strange manner in which to arrive."

  That generated nervous laughter.

  "I promised to share my title with you. Beyond your sun are other stars in the night sky. Most have planets, but only a very few have planets that host life. And even far fewer of those have men upon them. But amongst those planets there is an empire. Centos Four is one planet of The Empire. I am sent to Talmon to offer friendship. And so, I am an imperial envoy, and that is my title, although I answer more readily to my name."

  They were stunned into silence again. Sartine stepped forward. "I told you she was unique, and now she is ours."

  That generated more whoops, but they were also puzzled. They did not know what any of this meant. Neither did I.

  "I'm not quite done," I said to Sartine, and so she quieted them.

  "I know this is all stunning, and I am sure we will have many conversations," I said. "And I bring evidence of what I say; you will need to judge for yourselves if my evidence is proof. Perhaps when I read the books for you, you will believe."

  Then I turned to Sartine. "Vendart."

  She looked at me with shock, her mouth opening.

  "I am sorry for my blame in our dispute."

  She opened and closed her mouth several times.

  "I cannot promise we will never again fight. We both know we will. But I will not again fight you with my feet but will limit myself to the tools of a diplomat: my words." I left most of the crowd confused, but Sartine understood, and that was enough.

  I looked back out at the people.
"Vendart. People of Indartha. My home is Centos Four. I am a citizen of Centos Four, and that will not change. But, for now, and with your blessing, I wish to consider Indartha my home away from home. I hope I am welcome."

  I didn't wait for a response but spoke over the crowd, and my voice carried.

  "I am a citizen of Centos Four, and an imperial envoy besides." I turned to Sartine. "Vendart, I call you by your title as a mark of my respect for you and your leadership of these people." Then I turned back to the crowd. "But no one, and I mean no one, had ever again believe it is meant in the fashion that landed me tied this way when I used it for the vendart of Sudden."

  There was nervous laughter, most of it from the people who knew the entire story.

  I turned back to Sartine one more time. "Sartine. Vendart. If you still want me, then I am your galatzi prisoner."

  "I do," she said, but it was said quietly.

  "I do not believe they heard you."

  "I do!" she said more loudly. "You are my galatzi prize, now and forever."

  "We'll see," I said, but only loudly enough for her to hear. But I moved right up to her until our bodies were touching, and she wrapped her arms around me. And then I could whisper into her ear.

  "I am still mad at you, and our fight is not over, which we will continue in private. I cannot offer more than I have. If it was not enough, then you must plan my return to Sudden."

  "You call yourself a poor diplomat, but today, you gave me what I needed without giving more than you could. You are not returning to Sudden."

  "Then, if it is the custom, I will allow a kiss, and I will not respond with a foot. But if you tell me, 'I told you so' or offer a self-satisfied expression at what I have offered today, I rescind all my promises."

  She didn't wait. We separated only enough for her to pull my mouth to hers. And it was not our longest kiss, or our best. But before she was done, I knew I was kissed, and I stood there numbly for a moment or three afterwards, not even hearing the cheers and howls of the assembled people of Indartha.

  But then she turned us both, slipping an arm about my waist. She raised her other hand, but it took time before the crowd quieted.

  "I am left somewhat at a loss for words," she told them. "Clearly, there is a long story to share, but we shall not share it now."

  "Perhaps more than one long story," someone called out.

  "Just so," she agreed. She turned partly to face me, still largely facing the crowd. "Cecilia Grace, imperial envoy, on behalf of all people of Indartha, I welcome you to our village, your new home away from Centos Four."

  I noticed she said it differently, but it was enough for me, and I thought perhaps it was for her.

  "Thank you, Vendart. Now, may we please do something about the way my arms are tied? I am begging you."

  She, along with most of the people assembled, laughed.

  "Can you hold it together a short while longer?" she asked quietly and I nodded once.

  "But soon, Vendart. Please."

  She smiled at the use of her title, with everything she believed it implied.

  "Then you must greet your new village," she said. "For you are now of Indartha, as are all assembled here."

  And then, amidst more cheers, she led me down from the gazebo. We passed amongst the people, Sartine greeting many, accepting hugs and a few kisses. No one attempted to hug or kiss me, but a great many touched me as we passed amongst them.

  One old woman, assuredly ancient, if the creases in her face were any measure, interposed herself in our path, and the other villagers let her. Sartine brought me to a stop.

  "Cecilia Grace," she said formally. "This is Laradain, my father's mother."

  "My greetings, Laradain," I said. "I would offer a hand clasp or a hug, but as you can see." I wriggled my fingers.

  She smiled and stepped closer, then she cupped my cheek the way Sartine often did. Then she spoke far too rapidly for me to understand. I smiled at her, saying nothing, letting Sartine handle it. She must know I wouldn't understand. Her fingers caressed my cheek as she lowered her hand, and then she turned to Sartine and accepted a warm, deep hug, the two almost of the same size.

  Then Sartine pulled me away, and I asked her, "What did she say?"

  "I do not wish to tell you."

  "But you are going to anyway."

  She laughed. "She said you are beautiful and that she was assured your fire would keep me on my toes."

  "Was that really what she said?"

  "She also wants to know why you arrive gagged; I am sure the story will be all over the village by nightfall."

  "Who knows I remained gagged only because I refused to call you Vendart."

  "Only the two of us," she replied.

  A few people wandered past, touching one or the other of us. She looked around. "Come. There are far too many to meet all at once." She tugged me to the side. "I will show you your new home, and then we shall discuss the price of freedom for your arms."

  "No," I said. "You will show me the entrance of my new home away from home. You will then untie my arms and ignore any noises I make for a few minutes. Then you will show me the rest of your home. We will have no serious conversations until you have provided a hot bath and possibly bribed me with a massage for my shoulders."

  She didn't say anything, but she pulled me through the crowd -- more touches -- and then we were away from them, and her house was before us.

  It was not impressive. I owned three homes that dwarfed this one. But it was at least as charming as anything I owned, and it was plenty large for her purposes.

  And much bigger than my old home in Sudden.

  She drew me to the door then opened, and we stepped inside. I immediately saw my pack and, on top of it, those clothes of mine we had carried that hadn't fit inside the pack.

  Then I looked around. It was lovely inside, although cozy. I understood about efficiency for heating, especially in a land that used firewood for heat. And I realized the house was perhaps actually a little large for the purposes.

  "How do you heat it?"

  "In the coldest months, we close off many of the rooms. On the deepest of cold nights, we may all share one or two rooms, and there have been times we all gather in the kitchen." She paused. "Does this answer disturb you?"

  "No. Are you assigning me a room of my own, or another arrangement? Perhaps not even this house."

  "There is a room for you," she replied. "It is modest. I am sorry it is not grander."

  "How long do I have before you will wish to stop heating my room?"

  "I would rather not heat it at all," she said. "But you were clear the night we took you, and I must court you." I laughed lightly. "Do you expect that to take a year?"

  "I would have invited you to my bed the first night we met," I said. "But I find I want courting. I have never been courted the way you imply. How long?"

  "If you ask me to heat your room all winter, we can." But it didn't sound like she wanted that.

  "So you offer no ultimatum."

  "Not on this."

  I nodded. "All right. I wish you to now untie my arms, and then please, can we do something for my aches?"

  "There are baths in the village but they are communal. It would take time to provide a private bath here, but we can. It would be easier if you waited until tonight."

  "The fire from cooking dinner?"

  "Yes."

  "Are the communal baths at least divided by gender?"

  "Yes. And I would say we could probably have them to ourselves, but with so many of us freshly arrived home, I will not promise that."

  "So, you intend to bathe with me?"

  "Would you deny me? I would massage your aches."

  I stared into her eyes. "Please, Sartine. Untie my arms. I cannot reach the knots myself."

  "Of course you can't," she said. She smiled.

  "Please don't make me beg more than I have. I feel vulnerable enough."

  "I am not going to make you beg, Cecilia," sh
e said. "I have three requirements."

  "Oh no you don't. You will untie them now!"

  "Do not take that tone with me," she said. "And I won't take it with you."

  I stared at her, and then lowered my eyes. "Please untie me."

  "One. You will, in private, right now and from time to time in the future, refer to me with the words 'My Vendart'. It is between us and only us."

  "No."

  "Two. You will call this home, 'My home', with none of your extra words around it. And those will be the words you use in the future."

  "Sartine, please! Blackmailing me is not the way to get what you want."

  "Three. We will forgive each other of all past mistakes. We begin anew."

  I stared at her for a minute, then lowered my eyes and asked quietly, "Is there a four?"

  "No."

  "Fine," I said, lifting my eyes. "Sartine, you are going to untie my arms. You are not going to blackmail me into anything. Once my arms are free, and my body and nerves soothed, we can discuss anything you want. It may be that, in time, I will, indeed, call you by the words you want. I am exceedingly displeased not fifteen minutes ago you told me my words during the speech were enough, and now you tell me they were not."

  At that, she looked down, but she said, "This is important to me."

  "This is not the way to get what you want! If you want words like those, you have to earn them. If you want me to truly consider this home, you have to make me want to be here with you. Instead, you are working hard at making me regret my words out in the square."

  "What about item three?"

  "You seek to terminate any outstanding fights."

  "Yes. Fresh start, from this moment forward."

  "I suppose you even expect forgiveness for this latest ploy of yours?"

  "I do," she said.