wife to comfort me, no children to inherit my holdings. All I am trying to do is maintain enough property and income to keep me comfortable through my old age. After that, it all ends.' He paused dramatically and then finished in a dwindling voice, 'My line ends with me.'
Ronica had closed her eyes halfway through this recitation. When Davad sighed yet again, she opened them. 'Davad,' she said in a warning voice. 'Shame on you, trying such tricks on me. I refuse to pity you, any more than I pity myself. The pits we are in, we have dug ourselves. You know the roots of your problems; you just listed them yourself. If you want to regain the respect of the Bingtown Traders, leave off politicking for the New Traders. Stop 'dabbling' in the selling of humans. Go back to being who you were and your friends will return. Not quickly, for you have trodden firmly on too many toes. But eventually. You are Old Trader. As soon as you recall that to yourself, our compatriots will recall it as well.'
'And in the meantime, I should genteelly starve?' Davad blustered. As if to fend off such a dire fate, he took a large bite of the spice cake in his hand.
'You will not starve,' Ronica pointed out implacably. 'As you have said, you have only yourself to support. You could live off your own holdings if you chose to apply yourself, even if you never negotiated another trade in your life. I venture to say that if you reduced your servants, you could supply most of your own wants from a kitchen garden, some chickens and a few cattle. You could revert to simplicity, as Keffria and I have been forced to do. As for your being alone in the world, well, as I recall, you have a grandniece. Approach her, if you want an heir. It might mend a great deal with that branch of your family.'
'Oh, she hates me.' Davad brushed the idea away with the cake crumbs that had fallen into his lap. 'Some chance remark I made to her husband when he was courting her. She treats me as if I have the plague. It's beyond all mending.' He took a drink of his coffee. 'Besides. How can you criticize my 'dabbling' in slavery? Isn't that where Kyle and the Vivacia are right now, on a round of slave-trading?' At the darkening look on Ronica's face, he abruptly changed his tactics. 'Please, Ronica. I won't linger. Just allow me to be here when he arrives, simply introduce me as a family friend. That's all I ask. Just help me to establish a nodding acquaintance. I'll do the rest for myself.'
He looked at her appealingly. The perfumed oil on his hair had left a sheen on his brow. He was pathetic. He was an old friend of the family. He trafficked in slaves. He and Dorill had been wed a week after she and Ephron had married; they had danced at one another's weddings. He was certain to say something unfortunate to Reyn. He had come to her as his last hope.
He was a disaster in the making.
She was still looking at him dumbly when Keffria came into the room. 'Davad!' she exclaimed. She smiled stiffly. Her eyes were round with horror. 'Such a surprise! I did not know you were here.'
Davad rose hastily, nearly oversetting his coffee cup. He charged at Keffria, took her hand and beamingly exclaimed, 'Well, I know it is not completely correct, but I simply could not resist. With Kyle away, I thought it only fitting that there be some man about your household to appraise this youngster who thinks to come courting our Malta!'
'Indeed,' Keffria said faintly. She turned an accusing gaze on her mother.
Ronica steeled herself to the truth. In a quiet voice she spoke. 'I've told Davad it is completely inappropriate. Later in the courtship, if both young people choose to continue it, we will offer a tea and invite family friends. That would be a more appropriate time for him to meet Reyn and his family.'
'I suppose,' Davad said heavily. 'If that's the best you can offer your oldest, truest friend, Ronica Vestrit. I'll come back when I'm invited, then.'
'It's too late for that,' Keffria said faintly. 'That's why I came to find Mother. Reyn and his family are already here.'
Ronica rose swiftly. 'His family! Here?'
'In the morning room. I know: I did not expect them either. I did not expect Reyn until late this afternoon; the ship had good sailing. Nevertheless, Jani Khuprus is here with him, and an older brother… Bendir. Awaiting outside is a train of servants bearing baskets of gifts and… Mother, I need your help. With such a reduced staff of our own, how are we to deal-'
'Quite simply,' Davad interjected. Suddenly, his whole attitude had changed from petitioner to commander. 'You still keep a boy for the garden and stable. Send him here to me. I'll jot down a note, he can carry it to my house, and in no time, my serving staff will arrive here. Discreetly, of course. I'll give very specific instructions that they are to behave as if they are your servants and this is their normal place of employment and…'
'And when the gossip spreads through Bingtown, as it must whenever servants are involved, we shall be a matter of much jest. No, Davad.' It was Ronica's turn to sigh. 'We'll take you up on your offer. We must. However, if we must borrow servants, then I shall not hesitate to admit that is so. Nor should your kindness in this matter be hidden for the sake of our pride.' Belatedly recalling that her daughter's opinion might differ, Ronica turned to Keffria. 'Do you agree?' she asked her bluntly.
She shook her head helplessly. 'I suppose I must. Malta is not going to care for this one bit.' The last she added almost to herself.
'Simply don't let her trouble her pretty little head about it.' Davad was beaming now. Ronica longed to club him as he went on, 'I am sure she is going to be too much interested in her suitor to pay much attention to an old family friend anyway. Now. Where's that paper, Ronica? I'll dash a note off and you can get your boy on his way.'
Despite Ronica's misgivings, all was accomplished quickly and easily. Keffria returned to the guests, assuring them that her mother would appear shortly. The message was sent. Davad insisted on a last-minute peek in a mirror. Ronica was not sure if she was motivated by pity for him or for herself, but she persuaded him to blot the oil from his hair and forehead, and re-comb his hair in a more dignified styling. The way his hose sagged at the knees could not be helped, he told her, all his leggings did that, and as for the coat, it was new, and the cut of it was considered quite stylish. Ronica bit her tongue and did not point out the difference between stylish and becoming. Then, with a great deal of trepidation, she entered the morning room on Davad's arm.
She had heard that the courtship of a Rain Wild man was less restrained than that practiced in Bingtown. Before Keffria had consented to Reyn courting her daughter, they had been promised that the young man would not offer her expensive gifts that might turn a young girl's head. Ronica had been prepared for him to present Malta with a bouquet of flowers and perhaps some sweets. She had expected to be introduced to a shy young man, accompanied perhaps by his tutor or uncle.
The morning room had been transformed. The simple arrangements of spring flowers that she and Keffria had contrived from the garden had all but disappeared. Baskets, bowls and vases of exotic Rain Wild blooms blossomed in profusion throughout the room. The heady floral fragrance was thick as smoke. Platters and bowls of fruit, bottles of wine and trays of sweets and pastries had joined the carefully arranged repast on the table. Brightly colored songbirds twittered in a brass cage hung in an artificial tree constructed from bronze and cherry wood. A little spotted hunting cat, no more than a kitten, prowled hopefully beneath the cage. Servants, both veiled and open-faced, moved silently and industriously about the room, completing its metamorphosis. As Ronica entered, a young man whose veiled face proclaimed him a Rain Wild Trader struck up a plaintive melody on a lap-harp.
As if carried by the music, Jani Khuprus swept up to greet her. Her face veil was white lace shimmering with pearls. The loose hood that covered her hair was decorated with braided and coiled silken tassels in many shades of blue. She wore an extravagantly beribboned blouse and loose pantaloons that were gathered at her ankles with yet more ribbons. Fanciful embroidery almost obscured the white linen that backed it. Ronica had never seen a woman in such garb, but she knew instantly it would become the new style in Bingtown. As Jani greeted her in the transformed room, Ronica felt as if she had been magically transported to the Rain Wilds, and that she was the guest in Jani's home. Jani's smile was warm, and only one quick puzzled glance betrayed her curiosity about Davad. 'I am so glad you have come down to join us,' Jani welcomed her. With unnerving familiarity, she took both Ronica's hands in hers. She leaned closer to confide, 'You must be quite proud of your daughter, Keffria. She has greeted us so warmly and so graciously! She is a credit to her upbringing. And Malta! Oh, I can see why my son was smitten so swiftly and so deeply. She is young, as you warned me, but already she is like an opening blossom. Any young man would fall prey to such eyes. No wonder he took such pains choosing what gifts to bring her. I confess, when the flowers are massed like this, they do appear a bit overwhelming, but surely you can forgive a young man's impetuosity in this.'
