'A long, weary journey, Mistress,' he said with a forced smile. He let go of the pole and wiped his sweating brow.
Her smile had the strengthening effect of a cool draught of water. 'Close now, I see. Is Olossi your home?'
'No, Mistress. But it is my destination.'
She glanced at his wagon. He had never been this close to her before. She was stunningly lovely, and dressed in a magnificently rich Sirniakan silk robe cut away for riding, with the sleeves sewn so long they covered most of the hand. These were the sleeves of a woman rich enough that she was not obliged to perform manual labor. Her long nails were perfectly kept, painted in astonishing detail with tiny golden dragons curled against a blue sky.
She caught him looking, nodded with a look both polite and reserved, and moved on. He turned to watch her go. No man had the power to resist a second look: She had features not so much perfectly proportioned as entirely captivating, marked by an exotic touch around the eyes, which had a narrowing slant rather like the slantwise eye folds of the Silvers, now that he thought of it. Certainly, she was beautiful, the kind of woman a man must marry if he could. But he possessed a treasure much more valuable. As the pair moved back along the line the captain looked back over his shoulder, and Kesh smiled, finding strength in the thought.
Much more valuable.
He would succeed. He had to.
Some manner of accident-a broken axle-held up the rear portion of the train, but by midmorning the forward half of the caravan clattered through Crow's Gate in the outer wall to the sprawl of Merchants' Walk, the way station, clearing-house, and bazaar for traders who came from all parts of the Hundred and from over the Kandaran Pass out of the south, and for that trickle who walked the Barrens Road out of the dry and deadly west. Wide, dusty avenues were lined with warehouses and auction blocks. Behind them, alleys plunged in and out of warrens where the lesser merchants and peddlers and cartmen lodged in narrow boardinghouses. Sapanasu's clerks kept two temples here, alive at all hours with bargaining, recordkeeping, and argument.
At the Crow's Gate temple, shaven-headed clerks stood sweating under the shade of a colonnade as they settled accounts. Kesh stood in line with the rest to pay his portion of the guards' fee, and after signing off and paying up he was free of his obligation to the caravan and free to continue into Merchants' Walk. He handed over the last of his leya. Except for a string of twenty-two vey, which was not even enough to fill his leather bottle with cheap wine, he had nothing left except his merchandise and his accounts book.
'We haven't much time,' he said to Tebedir. 'Shade Hour is coming. Everything closes down.'
Beyond Crow's Gate Field, the road split into three. Kesh directed Tebedir to drive to the right, and they soon rolled into Gadria's Oval, commonly known as Flesh Alley.
The broad oval, which maintained a surprising bit of grass, was ringed by stately ironwood trees and by the accounts houses and holding pens for merchants who specialized in buying and selling debt, or paupers and criminals destined for slavery. In the middle of the oval rose the stepped marble platform with its spectacular ornamented roof, where at this moment a pair of boys, guarded by bored hirelings, were being offered for sale. The crowd was sparse. Many turned to look at the wagon. It was not an exciting day at the market.
'The house with the mark of three rings,' he said.
The master of the Three Rings offered shade and water gratis to any customers or purveyors arriving by cart or wagon. Kesh got Tebedir settled, then opened the door of the wagon.
'Moy! Tay!'
They ventured out cautiously, staring around with wide eyes. They looked at him, at the accounts house with its open doors, then saw the marble platform and the business going on there. The younger girl whispered fiercely to her sister, and they clutched hands, bent their heads, and waited.
'Come on,' he said, not liking to look at them. It wasn't right to go so meekly. He would have respected them more had they raged and fought against their fate, but they never had. They had come to him obediently, and it seemed they would leave the same way.
He herded them up to an open door and inside. The room was empty except for a two-stepped wooden platform, ringed by a rail, that stood in the middle. There was nothing else, only tall windows open to admit as much light as possible, and the packed earth floor. Kesh closed the door and rang the bell hanging from a hook to the left of the entryway. He led the girls up onto the platform, where they stood holding on to the railing and looking around with frightened expressions. Yet, knowing a bit about them from the long journey, he understood they had long since accepted their fortune. Neither cried. They still held hands.
The spy window opened and, after a moment, closed. Footsteps pattered away within the house. From outside, the patter of the auctioneer wound up and down. A dog barked. Wheels ground along the dirt.
The inner door slid open, and Merchant Calon stepped down into the room.
'Keshad! I knew you would bring me something of value!' He was a tidy man, narrow, neat, and dressed in an austere tunic scarcely more than what an honored slave might wear. He circled the girls, who watched him as mice might eye a stoat. They did not whimper or cry. In their own way, they had courage. 'This looks promising in a month in which I have suffered many disappointments. Quite unique.' Calon called into the house, where a figure stood half in shadow beyond the door. 'Where is Malia?'
'She is coming, exalted.'
'Listen,' said Kesh. 'We have dealt fairly with each other for several years now. I have always brought you the best of what I've found in the south.'
'So you have. I think we have both profited.'
'I know Malia will want to inspect them first, but let me speak bluntly. Offer me a fair price, and I won't haggle.'
Calon paused and, without looking at Kesh, touched first the ivory bracelet on his left wrist, and after this the one on his right.
'I call them Moy and Tay, which means in their language 'one' and 'two.' Tay is not yet in her bleeding. The elder girl is also young, a year or two older. They may be sisters. That wasn't clear to me when I obtained them. They have not given me a moment's trouble on the long journey, nor did they ever try to escape.'
An elderly woman appeared at the door, leaning on a cane of polished ebony. She wore both bronze slave bracelets and the ivory bracelets reserved for those who were free. 'Keshad,' she said in her spider's voice, whispery and tough. Her smile was tenuous. She was not, in Kesh's estimation, a cruel woman, but she was not compassionate either. 'What have you got here? Southern. Look at those complexions. Very fine.'
Calon rang the bell twice. A servant appeared with a trio of silver goblets, each half full of sweet cordial. He offered one to Kesh. The two men turned their backs so Malia could inspect the girls closely. Kesh sipped as cloth rustled and slipped, as each girl spoke a few words and, when Malia sang a phrase, mimicked her. They had voices as sweet and clear as the cordial. Feet and hands and teeth would be examined, and skin and body prodded and stroked.
Malia took her time, most of it in silence. Kesh sipped.
'What news from Master Feden's house?' Calon asked with seeming casualness.
'We just walked in today through Crow's Gate. I came here first.'
Calon grinned. 'I see. Best not to let Feden's fat fist grab the best of your merchandise. He would only find a way to cheat you, him and the other Greater Houses.'
'I never said so.'
Calon nodded. 'Nor can you, so I'll say it for you. Those who sit at the voting table with a majority of votes held to themselves can play the tune the rest of us must dance to. They see only what is good for themselves, while the land falls into ruin around them. They are made shortsighted by their own greed. Eiya! So be it. Those of us in the Lesser Houses are ready-poised-to make a change, whether the Greater Houses will, or no. As are you. Listen, young man, I expect the day comes quickly when you are able to buy yourself free.' With his chin he gestured toward the girls. 'If you've a mind to, I would offer you a position as a junior trader in my house, for it seems, alas, that I may have an opening. You've a good head, a clear mind, and a cool heart. Consider it.'
Kesh met his gaze, respect for respect. 'If I meant to stay in Olossi, I would consider it, Master Calon. You're the only merchant here I respect enough to work for.'
'I'll take that as thanks, then. Malia? A fair price.'
She circled around once more before standing in silence for a time, calculating. She had never been a beauty;
