Unquiet Land

  “No, but I agree with you,” Darien said. “I wouldn’t even be meeting with them, pretending I am considering their terms, if I wasn’t trying to placate Soeche-Tas.”

  Leah leaned her head back against the chair. Darien had the most comfortable furniture. Since she had never seen him relax for even five minutes, she had to assume someone else had picked it out. “Since when do you care so much about Soeche-Tas?” she demanded.

  Darien shared a look with Zoe. Leah straightened up fast. “What?” she said. “What else is going on that you probably haven’t told anybody else because you’re so secretive?”

  “I’m not secretive, I’m careful.”

  Zoe’s voice was regretful. “Relations with Soeche-Tas have been strained for several years, ever since the viceroy’s engagement to Corene was—interrupted,” she said. “Earlier this year, when the prince of Berringey came visiting, he spent a good deal of time in Soeche-Tas—and he has reason to dislike us as well.”

  “Oddly,” Darien murmured, “in both cases, actions by Zoe have led to the estrangement between Welce and other nations.”

  “That’s so unfair,” Zoe said. She was laughing.

  Leah knew what Zoe had done to anger the Soechin ambassadors. She had no idea what Zoe had done to alienate the Berringese, but she imagined it had to have been equally spectacular.

  “At any rate, Soeche-Tas has expressed its dissatisfaction with Welce, so far, in small ways,” Darien went on. “Merchant ships that sail to the northern ports have been harassed. Towns on the northern border, up by the mountains, have been raided. We have sent more ships to patrol the waters and more troops to patrol the land, and so far we have seen nothing but skirmishes. But I admit to a certain nervousness.”

  “So if you make a deal with the Karkans—”

  “The Soechins are placated,” Darien finished. “Yet I find myself allied with two nations that I neither like nor trust.”

  “If the Karkans wish you to promise military assistance against Cozique, then perhaps the answer is to ally with Cozique instead,” Chandran said.

  “An excellent strategy—if Cozique was only a one-day journey away,” Darien answered. “And if Cozique hadn’t made enough enemies of its own.”

  Leah groaned. “Malinqua,” she said. Cozique had invaded the smaller country just a few days before Leah left, and she supposed it would take a long time before good relations were restored between the two governments.

  “And Dhonsho,” Darien added. He walked to his desk and spun a small painted globe that sat on the corner, stopping it when it showed the expanse of the southern seas dotted with islands and small continents. “If Dhonsho, Berringey, the Karkades, Malinqua, and Soeche-Tas all form a single alliance, Cozique will be very lonely. Will the queen be willing to shore up Welce’s military if her own country could be attacked at any minute by five other nations? Or would she be better served guarding her own borders and not worrying too much about overmatched friends on the other side of the ocean?”

  Zoe gave them all an apologetic smile. “Nothing is ever as simple and straightforward as it seems,” she said.

  “So I am in a precarious situation,” Darien said. “I do not like the Soechins—not a single one that I’ve ever encountered—and I have developed a deep distaste for the Karkans. And yet I do not want either one as an enemy, which means I must maintain them as friends or at least neutral parties.” He paused a moment, then added grimly, “And yet I do not want them murdering Welchin citizens, whether or not they pay for the privilege. And I am not certain precisely how to dissuade them from pursuing that particular pastime while we negotiate our relationship.”

  Zoe had tilted her head to one side and appeared to be thinking something over. “I wonder if I might be able to help them understand how unacceptable such behavior is by Welchin standards,” she said.

  Darien regarded her for a long moment. At last he said, “I wonder if you might.”

  She was trying not to smile. “Tonight?”

  “Too public,” he said. “There will be forty people in the room. Maybe we can arrange a private luncheon in a day or two.”

  Leah almost bounced in her comfortable chair. “No! Come to the shop! I just got a shipment of Karkan goods. Chandran says the prince will be so excited about them that he’ll come to me if I invite him.”

  “Perfect,” Darien said. “Of course, you’ll have to clear everyone else out.”

  “That’s easy enough.”

  Chandran spoke up. “And provide guards for protection.”

  Zoe waved a hand at him. “You don’t even need to mention that.”

  Chandran was still watching her. “But what will you do?”

  Zoe was smiling widely. “I’m the coru prime,” she said. “I’ll think of something.”

  • • •

  Darien sent them back in one of the royal elaymotives, though neither one of them wanted to go home. It had been a strange day—even measured against all the other strange days lately, Leah thought—and they were both still sorting through the ramifications. So they had the driver drop them off at the Plaza of Men and they wandered through the booths along with the other restless nighttime visitors who weren’t deterred by the cold. As they strolled along, Leah casually reached for Chandran’s hand, and he casually laced his fingers with hers. She was worn out from the stresses of the day, and a little achy from carrying heavy boxes up the stairs, but she figured she could walk another hour or two, just so she didn’t have to let go of Chandran.

  Neither of them had any interest in buying a horse, but they stopped in front of the horse trader’s stall anyway to listen to the breeder explain the good points of his animals to a group of young men gathered in front.

  “How did you find out about the little girl?” she asked as the trader prattled on about muscle and wind and length of leg. “The servant’s daughter?”

  “I discovered her,” Chandran said. “In my wife’s bedchamber. Her mother had been looking for her all afternoon. As soon as I heard that, I knew where she would be.”

  Leah squeezed his hand so hard her own bones protested. “I’m so sorry.”

  “That was the day,” he said. “That was the day I killed her.”

  She didn’t know how to answer that. She lifted their linked hands and kissed his knuckles, one after the other. Then she touched the back of his hand to her cheek, so he could feel her tears.

  “I do not know how something that happened so long ago can still feel so raw,” he said.

  “Which thing?” she murmured. Now the horse trader was talking speed and endurance and the various merits of two different breeds. “Finding or killing?”

  “Both,” he said. “Grief and rage.”

  “You need to fill your head with other pictures,” she said. “Fill your heart with other memories.”

  He pulled their linked hands to his own face so that she could feel the stubble of his cheek. She couldn’t tell if the traces of moisture there had been transferred from her own skin or if Chandran was crying, too. “I am trying,” he said. “It is hard.”

  The gawkers at the horse trader’s stall were beginning to disperse, so Leah and Chandran moved on. Just past a booth where a scribe was selling his services they found a familiar sight.

  “There he is,” Leah said, irrationally pleased. “I thought that boy would have closed up his makeshift temple by now.”

  “Clearly too many people need blessings and are too lazy to go searching for the real thing.”

  “Shall we try again?”

  “I can always use a little guidance.”

  “Get your blessings here! Full set—nothing missing!” the boy called out to the passing crowd, then he beamed at them as he realized they were approaching. Leah already had a few quint-silvers in her hand and dropped them into his tithing box.

  He gave no sig
n that he recognized them, so Leah supposed he’d done a brisk business in the past nineday. “Do you want to pull your own coins, or do you want me to help you pick?” he asked.

  “Oh, we need three hands in the barrel,” Leah said. “So you have to help.”

  As before, Leah’s blessings were a little fuzzy—one quint-copper, one disk that looked like the button off a soldier’s coat, and one battered temple coin stamped with the glyph for certainty. Wouldn’t that be nice? she thought. As before, Chandran’s were more illuminating: courage, clarity, and honor.

  “Again,” Leah murmured when she saw the coin in his hand. “It follows you. Maybe we should go to a jeweler’s and buy you a charm with this blessing.”

  “You can keep that coin,” the temple-master said eagerly, “but you have to pay.”

  Chandran dropped it back in his bucket. “Oh, no,” he said, “I would hate to make you break up your set.” They were both laughing as they strolled away.

  TWENTY

  Two days later, Leah hosted a small, private party for Karkan royalty.

  The day after the meeting with Darien, she had sent a note to Seka Mardis, describing a few of her new purchases and hinting at others, wondering coyly if the prince could be persuaded to come to the shop “some evening when we would have the place entirely to ourselves.” On Chandran’s instructions, she’d sprinkled the note with grains of an aromatic spice that had arrived in the most recent shipment.

  “It is the scent of promises for the future,” he said. “A woman might tuck a sachet of it into the pocket of a man she wants to become her lover. One of our famous historical adventurers sent some to his sworn enemy as a way to let him know he would exact his revenge.”

  “I don’t want to give Seka Mardis the wrong impression,” Leah objected.

  He smiled. “You have gone to some trouble to give her the wrong impression,” he pointed out. “But this gesture will do no more than intrigue her. And by all indications, she is a woman who loves to be intrigued.”

  Whether she was intrigued, curious, or merely bored, Seka Mardis answered within the hour and offered to bring the prince to the shop on fifthday. It will be quite delightful! she wrote. We are looking forward to it.

  Naturally, Leah had to arrange for food and drink and comfortable chairs for her visitors, and naturally this was the day dozens of customers chose to drop by, requiring Leah’s personal attention. But by nightfall, she was more or less prepared. She had created a cozy seating area in the back of the shop, shadowy enough to let the prince hide his face if he wished, but illuminated with candles for a welcoming ambiance. She had thought Chandran would leave the premises altogether, but he wanted to remain upstairs, along with any royal guards Darien elected to send.

  “What if he insists on a tour of the whole building? He’ll see you. What if he recognizes you?”

  “I would rather run that risk than worry about what might be happening while he is here with you.”

  “I’ll have a half dozen protectors.”

  “Well, now you will have one more.”

  She figured it was safe to allow both Yori and Annova to have free run of the shop, since Yori would be viewed as Leah’s intimate friend and Annova would be seen as hired help.

  “They might look twice at Yori, but they won’t think you’re a threat of any kind,” she said to Annova. “They’ll think you’re a bit frail and elderly. But I’ve always had a feeling that you could defend yourself if the necessity ever arose.”

  Annova was grinning. “I’ll be unobtrusive unless the situation gets out of hand.”

  Zoe would show up later.

  Yori arrived with three guards shortly after the shop had been tidied up from the day’s business and organized for the night’s visitors. Chandran and the soldiers went upstairs, but Leah and Yori and Annova were left with little to do but stare at each other. Leah thought about fetching Mally’s box of stones, but Yori pulled out a pack of cards and asked, “Does anybody play penta?”

  Leah laughed. “Are you joking? I share a house with Rafe Adova. Apparently, everyone who’s ever known him longer than five minutes is forced to learn it.”

  “I knew the game long before I met Rafe,” Annova said.

  “Then let’s play a few hands,” Yori said. “Low stakes, of course.”

  Leah eyed her. “I have a feeling I shouldn’t play you for money.” She looked at Annova. “Either of you.”

  Annova was smiling. “Quint-coppers,” she said.

  If there had been a lower denomination of coins, Leah would have been better served holding out for that, because she lost every hand. The other two women were fairly evenly matched, though their styles differed wildly. Annova would win huge pots on spectacularly risky plays, while Yori devised masterful strategies that relied on a perfect memory and iron nerve. “You both ought to be down in a southside tavern, earning a living by fleecing tourists,” Leah said in disgust as she threw down her last cards.

  “That’s not a life that would keep my interest very long,” Annova said.

  Yori yawned. “Not enough action.”

  Almost on the words, there was a clatter in the streets and a figure hurried toward the shop. Yori swept up the cards and faded toward a side wall while Annova slipped behind the sales counter. Leah opened the door, extending her palm and smiling widely.

  “Seka! You’re here!” she exclaimed. “But where’s the prince?”

  Seka pressed Leah’s hand, kissed her cheek, and gestured toward the street. “Outside while I come in to look around and make sure—” She shrugged eloquently. “Everything is in order.”

  “Absolutely. I just have a couple of friends on hand to assist me, if necessary. You remember Yori from the other night?” Yori waved but didn’t come any closer. “And Annova works with me here in the shop. She’s utterly trustworthy.”

  “Oh, and how important it is to have one or two people you can rely on even when the rest of the world is failing!” Seka remarked. “We have brought attendants as well—three of them—though the others can stay outside if you like.”

  “Inside or out, it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “It’s a cool night,” Seka said. “I will bring them in as long as they keep out of the way.”

  In a few minutes the shop was filled with the scent and the restlessness and the glittering presence of five Karkans. Three men who were clearly guards, though they were dressed like courtiers, clustered by the door, trying to be unobtrusive while still maintaining constant readiness. The prince entered last, stooping a little at the low door, pausing to place his warm palm against Leah’s. His face was shadowed and his clothes were completely covered by his dark, hooded cloak, but when he touched his hand to hers she felt the metal of rings on every one of his fingers. She thought she also caught a flash of gold braid on the clothing under the cloak.

  “How very pleasant to see you again,” he purred in his rich, cultured voice. “Seka has teased me with hints of the treasures you have laid in for our visit. I admit I am quite wrought up with curiosity.”

  Wrought up with something, at any rate. What she could see of his face under the hood looked flushed and ruddy; his breathing seemed a little too fast. Sometime within the past hour he had enjoyed something very much.

  “I hope you are pleased with my offerings,” she replied, her voice demure but her smile provocative. “When one makes new friends, one is never sure what will—captivate them.”

  “That is why new friends are so exciting.”

  She urged him to the back of the shop, where she had arranged a table of refreshments and four chairs. The fourth chair was for Zoe, although the prince wouldn’t know that; he was supposed to think she was just being hospitable, in case he brought other high-ranking friends.

  Seka Mardis had followed close behind, and the three of them sank into their seats, Leah closest to th
e steamer trunk that had been stuffed with goods. “May I get you something to eat or drink? I have cans of tchiltsly to send home with you, but for now I thought we might sample some traditional Welchin pastries while we look over the merchandise.”

  “I would take keerza, if you have any,” Seka Mardis said.

  Leah laughed. “Have you managed to acquire a taste for it?”

  “Not yet, but I’m still trying.”

  “Wine for me,” the prince said, moving restlessly in his chair. He resettled himself, crossed his arms, uncrossed them, and began tapping his fingers against his knee.

  Annova had trailed soundlessly behind them, and now she busied herself with the refreshments. It made Leah a little less nervous to have Annova’s calm presence nearby.

  Once they were all served, Leah leaned over, opened the trunk, and pulled out the first item. Not a Karkan import, but something she knew would be welcome, anyway. “More veneben, of course,” she said, handing the pouch directly to the prince. “In case you don’t like anything else I have on hand, I know you will still leave here happy!”

  “You are the most generous of hostesses,” the prince said. He held the pouch to his nose, inhaled deeply, then laid it in his lap, but his fingers kept toying with the clasp. The man couldn’t sit entirely still.

  After that, Leah brought out a series of items—the fillichie, the tchiltsly, a tin of keitzees, a box of caramel-like candies that had small hard cores of poison. “Eating them is a game,” Chandran had told her. “Can you suck off all the sweetness before you get to the kernel of venom at the center?”

  “I would spit it out long before I got too close,” she’d said.

  “Not if you had ever had one,” he’d replied. “They have an exquisite taste. You would hate to give up even the smallest amount.”

  “Then why bother making them toxic? Why not just make them wonderful?”

  “Because that would be too simple. Because only risk makes you savor the reward.”

  “Karkans are insane.”