building dominated by a big, airy room. Here Jexami sat behind a desk covered with scrolls and slates, with a scribe to one hand, a clerk to the other scribbling numbers. When she came in, Jexami raised a hand, one finger in the air, without looking up.
The instruction was unmistakable. She waited in the doorway, motionless. She had become used to fielding such slights from the Carthaginians. She had not expected this discourtesy from a Northlander — a friend, a relative. Yet it was so. She began to feel uneasy.
At length he sat up straight, smiled at Rina, and clapped his hands to send the clerks away. He waved her to a seat before the desk. ‘Are you hungry? Would you like some fruit juice, wine, tea?’
‘A little wine would be welcome.’
Himil was despatched to fetch it.
There was a bundle on the desk, neatly wrapped in linen. He pushed it over to her. ‘Your dirty clothes — properly laundered, of course. Your baggage is outside. Oh, and the coins are in there too.’
‘The coins?’
‘The ones the carriage-man dropped in the dirt. Not worth much of course, but you may as well have them back!’ He laughed, as if he’d made a joke.
She frowned. ‘I don’t understand. They are good Northlander scrip.’
‘“Good Northlander scrip.” Hmm. You know, since I settled here I’ve come to feel that we were always rather cut off from the flow of events up in Northland. Buried in our great big old Wall. We tend to think that the rest of the world can fall apart and it won’t affect us, don’t we? Rina, Northlander currency isn’t worth the metal it’s stamped from these days. After all, what’s it backed by? As soon as the cold started cutting the trading links, for the average Carthaginian, Northland has become — nothing. A fantasy country as remote as the moon.’
‘But you are prospering.’
‘I was lucky, or we had foresight. We saw that times were becoming hard, the years of flood in the north, the drought in the south. This was even before the cold came, you understand. We thought that Carthage, so much further south, at the centre of the world, would be more — secure. We thought ahead, Rina. As you did. It’s just that we made our judgements a little earlier.
‘We built up a business down here. I handle the import of certain kinds of soft fruit from across Greater Carthage into the city itself. Good sound trade. And we managed to convert most of our Northland currency into the local scrip, just before the crash came.’ He opened his hands to her. ‘Do you have any other assets with you? Land titles, other currencies-’
‘Nothing but holdings back home. In Northland.’
‘Which are worth nothing here, I’m afraid. Not even as guarantors of credit.’
‘No wonder that crook Barmocar asked for payment of the kind he did.’ And she told him about the Virgin’s bones.
He laughed, as if delighted at the man’s ingenuity. ‘No wonder indeed. The rascal! But let me give you some advice. I wouldn’t make an enemy of Barmocar — not if you can help it. He’s a pretty influential man here. And, let’s face it, he’s the only member of the Tribunal of One Hundred and Four that you know. If I were you, I would cultivate that. So what will you do?’
She was astonished at the question, and dismayed.
He waved that away. ‘Forget it. The Carthaginians loathe us Northlanders. Ingrained after centuries of our manipulating their destiny — that’s the way they see it.’
‘The role of Northland has always been to bring peace and collaboration between disparate peoples-’
‘And to get rich and powerful in the process. Forget it, as I said. There’s no way anybody would
‘I am an Annid, from a family of Annids. I was ten years old before I had to lace up my own shoes.’
She meant to make him laugh. He returned her look, stony-faced. ‘Your children, then. How old?’
‘Twins, just sixteen now. A boy and a girl. He, Nelo, is a promising artist, in the new deep-look style-’
‘How big is he?’
‘What?’
‘Physically. Tall, short, thin, strong. .’
‘Shorter than me. Quite heavily built. Strong, if he puts his mind to it. But he has a gentle spirit which-’
‘He may find work on the labour details. The sewage system, for instance — constantly clogging up. And corpse details when the plagues come. Or the farms.’
‘No Northlander farms.’
‘They do here. Now, the girl?’
‘Alxa. She’s a bright, independent young woman. Stronger than me, I think. She has a facility for languages. She learned Carthaginian on the journey.’
‘A translator, then? That might have possibilities. Not useful for me, mind you, I have all the staff I need. Good-looking?’
She flared. ‘Why do you ask that?’
‘Because one role Northlander women are popular for here is as companions. Oh, don’t look at me so, Cousin. It doesn’t have to be — like that. But you can imagine how it gives a Carthaginian pleasure to order round a pretty, stuck-up Northlander, as they see it.’
She suppressed her anger. ‘I am reluctant to rely on the labour of my children. They are too young.’
‘This isn’t Northland,’ he said firmly. ‘You are far from home. Nobody wants you here, frankly. The quicker you absorb that fact the better. And the sooner you learn that your preferences are irrelevant-’
‘Help us,’ she said bluntly.
He sat back in his chair, sighed, and rubbed his face. ‘Rina, Rina. I have nothing for you.’
‘You have room. Food, warmth. At least let us stay for a few days. Until we can find work, get established somehow. I will pay you back.’
He laughed. ‘What, with Northland scrip?’
‘With the money I, we, will earn when we find jobs.’
‘Impossible. Believe me, with the kind of jobs you’ll be taking you won’t be paying down loans. Look, Rina, I have my own position in society here to think of. If I start taking in strays and nestspills-’
‘You are a Northlander.’
‘Not any more,’ he said coldly. ‘And since you abandoned the place to come here, neither are you.’
‘As family, then.’ She forced herself to say it. After all, she had begged before Barmocar. Was this any worse? ‘I’m desperate. For my children. Please. I have no other recourse.’
He sighed again. ‘I always was too soft for my own good. Seven days. And then you’re gone. Now if you’ll excuse me. .’ He bent over his desk. ‘Send in my clerks on your way out. And shut the door.’
A little later Alxa and Nelo, fetched from the city by Jexami’s servants, showed up at the estate.
Alxa was wide-eyed. ‘By the mothers’ eyes, this is grand. It’s almost as good as the Wall. Does that tap work?’
‘Leave it alone,’ Rina snapped. ‘Touch as little as possible.
Nelo frowned. ‘Are we staying here?’
‘Yes. For now. Not for long. But we mustn’t impose. .’ Nelo’s face was bloodied, she saw, a smear from a cut over his eye, and a bruise was rising on his cheek. ‘Oh, my, what happened to you?’ She ran to get a bowl of water and a cloth.
Alxa sat on a chair, testing its softness. ‘We got into a fight.’
‘You did what?’
‘We went for a walk. The city is teeming, Mother, full of people. We found a tavern. We thought we’d have some wine. But the landlord wouldn’t accept our Northlander scrip. And some men had heard us talking, I mean in our own tongue. They came over to give us a hard time. One of them said something-’
