needed the marshal's oversight and what usually ran well without his interference.
As Joss listened, he drank the spicy soup and drained the tea, glad to have the conversation move onto less volatile ground. Askar hadn't much of a sense of humor, but he knew what was needed for a reeve hall to run smoothly.
'I'm fortunate to have you,' he said when Askar had done. He set bowl and cup on the tray, grabbed a knife, his short staff, and, after a moment's consideration, a pair of loose jesses. 'How did you and the others manage not to lose hope while Yordenas ruled here, with those dirty, corrupt reeves gathered around him? They must have made life miserable, and dangerous, for the rest of you.'
Askar shook his head. 'We did what had to be done. Of course, now we know there was another mind, working at a distance to corrupt Argent Hall and the council of Olossi. That Yordenas was simply a tool.'
'This battle isn't done yet,' said Joss. 'Our war is just beginning.'
7
Standing in the shop of her Ri Amarah hosts, Mai studied the wares for sale: netted bags; varying qualities of linen and cotton cloth, from stands-up-to-hard-use to dainty-for-festivals; needles of varying length and thickness; and two shelves packed with thread and yarn of diverse luster, strength, and color. Behind the counter, Eliar's father presided over cubbyholes and shelves and baskets packed with medicinals.
'Isn't that oil of naya?' she asked Isar, indicating a display of vials containing a pale liquid.
'Oil of naya is famed for its healing properties, verea.' Isar had Eliar's good looks, aged and mellowed, and Eliar's charming manners, but in other ways he reminded Mai of her own father: he liked tidy shelves and tidy rules, because he arranged them. 'This is finest-quality water-white, useful against certain skin conditions and ailments. Crude oil of naya has the property that it burns even when water is thrown on it, so it is hard to extinguish.'
Mai leaned against the counter to steady herself as the memory of living men engulfed in flame flashed in her mind's eye. Fifteen days ago, she had watched from the women's tower of the Ri Amarah compound as Anji and his troops, with the aid of the Olossi militia and the reeves of Argent and Clan Halls, had attacked the army invading the city. They had won a victory against a numerically superior force by dropping oil of naya on the army's encampment. Merciful One! Everything had burned, even flesh.
'Are you well, verea?' Isar asked. 'If you'd prefer to go back to the women's quarters, you might find it more suitable.'
She took in and released a measured breath, just as Priya had taught her, cupped a hand over the curve of her belly. After the battle, Anji had stayed with her for one night, and then he had ridden off with his troops in pursuit of the remnants of the broken army. He had his work. And she had hers. She would do what must be done.
'I am grateful to you for sheltering me, ver,' she said a little
hoarsely. 'Your house has shown me nothing but kindness and generosity. But I find I miss the bustle of the market. It keeps my mind off those things I cannot change.'
Isar seemed about to object when a pair of matrons entered the store and demanded his attention in their quest for an ointment to soothe abrasions and burns that men in their family had received while fighting the fires that had sprung up in the lower city during the attack. Mai sat on a stool reserved for customers, relieved she did not have to answer his objections, and watched the give and take. She never tired of bargaining. She could learn much observing how others conducted themselves. In addition to selling his wares, Isar acted as an apothecary might, refusing to recommend any tisane or ointment until he had led the women through an exhaustive list of symptoms to identify the severity and precise nature of each ailment. A pair of turbaned younger men entered from the back, bearing a tray with tiny cups. They offered this fragrant tea to the customers, but both women refused.
Several young women dressed in good quality silks ventured in, laughing together. As they spread out bolts of fabric, they glanced at Mai, whispering with heads bent together. The Hundred folk favored bold colors and patterns: stylized flowers too bright to be realistic, playful butterflies and bats representing day and night, handsome motifs formed out of ranks of green-on-gold vegetation. Their chattering, the strange patterns, the smell of unfamiliar herbs, and even the color of the dirt made her feel an utter outlander, tossed into a foreign land with no choice but to fight for her own survival.
She could not allow it to overwhelm her. She and Anji, and their company of about two hundred soldiers and additional grooms and slaves, had chosen to make their stand here, to carve out a life in exile.
'Verea, is there anything you need?' asked one of the young men hesitantly. When she smiled at him, he reddened and tugged at the cloth wrapping his head that concealed his hair, as if the action would deflect her gaze.
'No. I thank you.' She rose.
Isar looked up from his customers, marked her exit with a creased brow, and offered a brief and possibly disapproving nod.
If only his daughter were permitted to accompany her, but of course that was impossible.
She pushed through the hanging banners stamped with the signs that signified to customers what was sold within, and emerged onto the porch. Every storefront had such a porch, set a few steps up from the street, on which folk left their street shoes before entering. Her attendants waited outside. Priya sat cross-legged on the porch, watching the passing traffic. Her lips shaped the words of prayers that she chanted to herself whenever she had a quiet moment. Chief Tuvi and four soldiers stood guard. Eliar, her chosen escort and local guide, was leaning against a wooden pillar chatting with O'eki, the mountainous slave, about wool.
As Mai bent to strap on her sandals, Priya rose. O'eki broke off his disquisition on the importance of a long and lustrous fiber to a carpet that would stand up to repeated wear.
Eliar grinned as he pushed away from the pillar. 'Did my father talk you out of your reckless scheme, Mai?' he asked, as casual with her as if she were his sister.
Chief Tuvi gestured, and the soldiers fell into formation, two in the vanguard and two for the rear guard. 'Mistress? What is your wish?'
She gathered her courage, let out a held breath. 'Surely shopping must be the same in every town, even a foreign one. I am ready to go!'
The market streets in Olossi brimmed with ten times the wonders that even the twice-annual market fair in isolated Kartu Town could ever ever ever boast. Along one narrow street you could browse the stalls and shops of papermakers, with rice-paper lanterns, plain or painted fans, decorative paper for folding, and painted landscapes suitable for screens as well as ordinary white rice paper for windows and doors. An alley snaked between shops selling fabulous creatures carved from bone. She found mirrors backed with bronze lacework, braided cords to ornament jackets, and silk ribbons woven plain or patterned.
'You're dickering,' said Eliar as they strolled down a rank of stalls that sold nothing but beads: wood, ceramic, stone, crystal, polished, unpolished, in so many colors she could not name them all. His
silver bracelets jangled as he gestured toward the bustling shops. 'But you're not buying.'
'This is my first time out. I was fearful of venturing out, after the battle, with everything in disarray. Then your sister told me it was also the year-end festival with ghosts and such. So I thought it would be better to stay indoors. But now that's over-' She laughed. 'You can see it wouldn't be wise to buy when I don't really know how bargaining works here.'
'The same as any other place, I suppose.' Eliar heaved a sigh that ought to have shaken earth and sky together. 'Not that my father and uncles will let me travel to other towns and see.'
'The roads aren't safe. Didn't a man from your house get killed on the road to Horn last year?'
'Yes. But they wouldn't even let me ride out with the militia during the battle. All I was allowed to do was fight the fire in the lower city after the army had already run!'
Mai shuddered, remembering the way buildings and tents and living creatures had burned and burned and burned. 'People died fighting those fires.'
'So they did. I shouldn't make light of it.'
A girl scuttled up to the pair of soldiers standing rear guard. Ducking her head shyly, she held out a wooden
