refused.
They were not monsters. In truth, although strict and ruthless, the Qin ruled more fairly, Grandmother often pointed out, than had the corrupt Mariha princes who preceded them. Taxes and more taxes and yet more again! That was all the Mariha princes had wanted.
'A good morning to you, Mai'ili! I see the overlords are come to sniff at the orchid.'
Mai jumped. 'Widow Xania! I didn't see you coming.'
Widow Xania had a grin that was more like a grimace. She meant well, but no one liked her. 'Careful how you look at them, child. They'll notice you. You know what happened to Clan Bishi's daughter, that one that got taken off to the brothel three years ago because she caught a captain's fancy. I don't know why your father displays you in the market like this when there's already talk of a marriage between you and the Gandi-li clan boy. But I suppose men like Master Vin don't haggle much. I imagine you get the best prices in this market! What man can haggle when faced with such beauty?' She cackled.
Mai smiled patiently. 'How can I help you today, Widow Xania? I hope your son is well?'
'Thank you for asking. You seem to be the only person who remembers him! I just received word from him yesterday, by way of some shepherds, out of the Gandi clan, in fact, who had been up to the temple and spoke to him there. The discipline has given him peace.'
'It was very sad about his wife and son.'
'Yes, indeed.' She touched an eye. 'The wind's blown some dust in. There, it's gone. I'll need two melons. Just pick out two for me. I trust your judgment. And some sword-fruit.'
'Green or ripe?'
'Green, for frying. But the melons ripe. My sister's son is coming today, so I have to feed him. I suppose he hopes he'll inherit the house when I'm gone.'
'Surely not!'
'You know what people are! Always grasping. Always wanting more, and not caring how much pain others suffer! If only my daughter hadn't died-if only my daughter-in-law and the baby-well. How much?'
'Twelve for everything.'
'Twelve! No one else in this market would rob me like that!'
'It is the going price, Widow Xania.'
'Surely not! I can't give you more than seven.'
'Seven is very low. My father would beat me-'
'As if your father would ever beat you! You are the flower of his household. Seven!'
'I really can't sell them for seven, but for you because of your recent sorrows I will make an exception and let you have these for eleven.'
'That's robbery! Eight.'
'No less than ten.'
'I'll consider nine if you throw in a peach.'
'With two peaches, for ten.'
'Done.'
Being particular about how things were arranged, Widow Xania always packed her market basket herself. Mai looked past her only to discover that the Qin officer had paused at the vendor beside them. He was standing in front of the blanket where old lady Tirza sold tomatoes and cucumbers, but he was looking right at Mai. His soldiers waited on the street behind him, arms crossed, bored. Widow Xania finished her packing, straightened up, and saw them. The widow's eyes widened and her mouth pouched in a way that would have struck Mai as comical if she wasn't just now thinking of the fate of that Bishi girl. A Qin captain who lusted after that girl had walked right into the women's baths one day and hauled her off to the brothel and done what he wished since there was no one to stop him. The Qin commander had made him pay a handsome price to the family, and no respectable family had suffered such an indignity since, but they all knew it could happen again.
It was only a matter of time.
Widow Xania clutched her basket and tottered away. All around, the market fell silent. Probably every soul in sight of Mai's cart and the handsome parasol that shaded her was recalling the Bishi girl and her stained honor. The Bishi family had lost face as well, and the girl had eventually been hauled away by some merchant or another who had hired her on as a temporary wife along the Golden Road. It was the best a ruined girl could hope for.
But I am not a ruined girl. I am Mai'ili, eldest child and first daughter of the Mei clan. I have no need to cower before these men.
Although it was always wise to be respectful.
She touched her lips to her wolf ring, sigil of the proud Mei clan, as she bent to retrieve a few melons from the box beneath her feet. When she rose she faced the captain, who had moved to stand before her cart. He smiled, just slightly, as she stood there with a melon in each hand. Taking in a firm breath, she arranged them with the others before turning to him. He had a graciously oval face and a pleasingly dark complexion, with deep-set eyes and a light beard, unusual among the Qin, and a mustache. Only his hooked nose seemed out of place, as if it had come from somewhere else. The sun was not brighter than the golden silk of the tabard worn over his black tunic; only officers were allowed to wear that particular intense color.
'How may I help you today, sir? As you can see, I have peaches, melons, sword-fruit, and almonds today.'
He did not look at her wares, but his gaze did skip up above her head.
'That's a distinctive amaranth pattern on your parasol. Does it come from Sirniaka?'
She laughed out of surprise, then touched fingers to lips to stop herself. That would teach her to think so well of herself! 'I'm not sure,' she admitted. 'My father bought it for me last year when I celebrated my sixteenth year. He bought it from a merchant who had come from the east. Isn't Sirniaka a great kingdom in the east, beyond the eastern Mariha cities?'
'The Mariha cities are all under the rule of the Qin var now,' he corrected, 'but otherwise you are right. It's an unusual parasol, quite beautiful. In the Sirniakan Empire, that pattern is reserved for girls of marriageable age. By displaying it, they indicate they are available for an alliance.'
She flushed. Her heart raced. 'An alliance?'
'Marriage. A wedding. You have such customs here, do you not?'
'Of course we do.'
He smiled again. He looked like a man who had seen a fair bit of the world. He was perhaps ten years older than she was, not that that would ever make the slightest bit of difference to her, who was going to marry that boy from the Gandi sheep-herders clan whom she'd known all her life and who was a perfectly nice young man about Uncle Shai's age, not more than two or three years older than she was. Perfectly nice.
'Almonds,' he said, as if repeating himself. 'Two bowlsful.' He beckoned to one of his soldiers, who sauntered up with a small leather sack.
'Oh! Yes!' But Ti had taken her measuring bowl to get juice!
'No bowl?' he asked. 'Two handfuls will do as well.'
She scooped, and he held out cupped hands so she had perforce to pour the almonds into his waiting hands, and by one means or another he brushed her, or she him. His skin was cool, although the sun was hot. Yet she hadn't lost her wits. She named as an opening price twice what she would charge to a local.
He paid it without haggling.
7
Shai never spoke much. He didn't see the point of speaking, since no one ever listened to him, and those who did then usually snapped at him for having the temerity to speak. Best to keep your own counsel under those circumstances.
So it was a wonder to him when his niece Ti'ili came running on the path that led from town up the gentle, grassy slope of Dezara Mountain to the base of the spring pasture. Here, beside a copse of very young birch trees he'd planted and watered himself, he had set up his woodworking shed so he could work in peace without four elder
