Gailisa spoke up: 'Just tell him you're too busy working to go out of nights. He won't be able to say a word about that. The way the Algarvians squeeze us these days, everybody has to run as fast as he can to stay in one place.'
'That's not bad,' Talsu said. 'It's not even a lie, either.'
'Maybe you won't see him at all,' his mother said. 'I'll send Ausra to the market instead of you for a while. And I don't suppose Master Kugu would have the crust to stick his nose through this door after the trouble he caused you- the trouble he caused every one of us.'
Ausra stuck out her tongue at Talsu. 'See? Now I'm going to have to do your work,' she said. 'You'd better find a way to make that up to me.'
'I will,' he said, which looked to astonish his sister. In fact, he only half heard her. He was thinking about ways to make things up to Kugu, ways to make something dreadful happen to the silversmith without drawing suspicion to himself.
Gailisa must have seen as much. That night, while they lay crowded together in their narrow bed, she said, 'Don't do anything foolish.'
'I won't.' Talsu hugged her to him. 'The only really foolish thing I ever did was trust him in the first place. I won't make that mistake again any time soon.'
The next morning, his father remarked, 'You don't want to do anything right away, you know.'
'Who says I don't want to?' Talsu answered. They sat side by side in the tailor's shop, working on heavy wool quilts for a couple of Algarvians who would be going from warm, sunny Jelgava to Unkerlant, a land that was anything but. Traku looked at him in some alarm. He went on, 'I won't, because it would give me away, but that doesn't say anything about what I want to do.'
'All right,' Traku said, and then, a moment later, 'No, curse it, it isn't all right. Look what you made me do. You frightened me so there, my finishing spell went all awry.' The pleat he'd sewn by hand was perfectly straight. The spell should have made all the others match it. Instead, they twisted every which way, as jagged as the skyline of the Bratanu Mountains on the border between Jelgava and Algarve.
'I'm sorry,' Talsu said.
'Sorry? Sorry doesn't cut any cloth. I ought to box your ears,' Traku grumbled. 'Now I'm going to have to remember that spell of undoing. Powers above, I hope I can; I haven't had to use it in a while. I ought to make you rip all these seams out by hand, is what I ought to do.'
Still fuming, Talsu's father muttered to himself, trying to make sure he had the words to the spell of undoing right. Talsu would have offered to help, but wasn't sure he could. No good tailor needed the spell of undoing very often. When Traku did begin his new chant, Talsu listened intently. No, he hadn't had all the words straight. He would now, though.
After calling out the last command, Traku grunted in relief. 'There. That's taken care of, anyhow. No thanks to you, either.' He glared at Talsu. 'Now I get to do the finishing spell over again. You're going to cost me an hour's work with your foolishness. I hope you're happy.'
'Happy? No.' But Talsu glanced over to his father. 'D'you suppose we could build the spell of undoing into some of the clothes we make for the redheads, so their tunics and kilts would fall to pieces, say, six months after they got to Unkerlant?'
'We could, maybe, but I wouldn't.' Traku shook his head. 'You don't shit where you eat, and we eat with the clothes we make.'
Talsu sighed. 'All right. That makes sense. I wish it didn't. We have to be able to do something about the Algarvians.'
'Doing something about our own people who suck up to them would be even better,' Traku said. 'Algarvians can't help being Algarvians, any more than vultures can help being vultures. But when people in your own town, people you've known for years, suck up to Mezentio's men, that's cursed hard to take.'
With a nod, Talsu went back to the kilt he was working on. Thinking about the Jelgavans who sucked up to the redheads inevitably brought him back to thinking about Kugu. His hands folded into fists. He wanted to ruin the silversmith- more, he wanted to humiliate him. But he wanted to do it in a way that wouldn't put him back inside a dungeon an hour later.
He came up with nothing that suited him then, nor in the couple of days that followed. He was walking home from taking a cloak to a customer- an actual Jelgavan customer, not one of the occupiers- when he ran into Kugu on the street.
As they had in the market square, they eyed each other warily. Kugu said, 'I gave my lessons last night. I wondered if you would come by. When you didn't, I missed you.'
'My wife and family took things the wrong way,' Talsu answered. 'They don't understand how things are in the bigger world. So I'm having to be quiet about my change of heart, if you know what I mean. I don't want to stir anybody up, and so I think I'd be smarter to stay home for a while.'
Kugu nodded, swallowing the lie as smoothly as if it were truth. 'Aye, that can prove troublesome,' he agreed. 'Perhaps you could arrange to have something happen to one of them.'
Perhaps I could arrange to have something happen to you, you son of a whore, Talsu thought. But all he said was, 'People would wonder about it, you know.'
'Well, so they would,' the silversmith admitted, 'and that kind of gossip would make you less useful. We'll think of something sooner or later, I'm sure.'
Useful, am I? went through Talsu's mind. We'll see about that, by the powers above. He smiled at Kugu. 'So we will.'
Vanai hated it when Ealstan was gloomy. She did her best to cheer him up, saying, 'You're bound to find more work soon.'
'Am I?' He sounded anything but cheered. 'Pybba wasn't joking, curse him. After he gave me the sack, he slandered me to everybody he knew. Finding anybody who'll trust me not to steal hasn't been easy.'
'Powers below eat Pybba,' Vanai said, in lieu of saying something like, Why didn't you keep your nose out of his business when he told you to? The good sense in a question like that was plain to see, but it didn't help her now. She'd said the same thing before, and Ealstan hadn't wanted to listen.
'The powers below will eat us if I don't start bringing in more money again.' His voice was raw with worry.
'We're all right for a while yet,' Vanai said, which was true. 'We got ahead of the game when you did so well there for a while, and I spent a lot of time being poor. I know how not to spend very much.'
Her husband drained his breakfast cup of wine. He made a face. Vanai understood that; it was about as cheap as it could be while staying this side of vinegar. She'd already started economizing. With a sigh, he said, 'I'll go out and see what I can scrape up. I'll give it another few days. After that, if nobody wants me to cast books for him anymore…' He shrugged. 'My brother spent the last couple of years of his life building roads. There's always work for somebody with a strong back.' He got up, gave Vanai a quick kiss, and went out the door.
As she washed bowls and mugs, she remembered her grandfather after Major Spinello set him to work building roads outside Oyngestun. A few days of that had almost killed Brivibas. A few weeks of it surely would have, and so she'd started giving herself to Spinello to save Brivibas from the road crew.
Because of all that, the notion of Ealstan building roads filled her with irrational dread. At least I know it's irrational, she thought: small consolation, but consolation nonetheless. Ealstan was young and strong, not an aging scholar. And he was Forthwegian, not Kaunian- an overseer wouldn't be tempted to work him to death for the sport of it.
She looked in the pantry and sighed. She hadn't wanted to go shopping today, but she couldn't very well cook without olive oil, and only a little was left in the bottom of the jar. A yawn followed the sigh. More than a little ruefully, she looked down at her belly. The baby didn't show yet, but it did still leave her tired all the time.
Before she left the flat, she renewed the spell that kept her looking like a Forthwegian. She wished she'd done that while Ealstan was still there. Aye, the spell had become second nature to her, but she liked to be reassured that she'd done it right. If she ever did make a mistake, she wouldn't know till too late.
Silver clinked sweetly as Vanai put coins in her handbag. She nodded to herself. She'd told Ealstan the truth;
