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both a truncheon and a slightly curved scimitar. Their heavy boots are
iron-toed.
Ryalth stops a good three cubits from the pair. Merchanter Ryalth and her
enumerator, of Ryalor House, she announces.
Let them aboard, calls a voice from the main deck.
Lorn glances past the guards to the pale-faced and full-bearded man in a green
tunic and a short golden vest, then follows Ryalth up the gangway onto the
polished wooden deck of the Redwind Courser.
Lady Merchanter. The thin trader, a head taller than either Lorn or Ryalth,
bows moderately. We are most glad to see you.
And we, you. Ryalth s voice is cool, assured, as she returns the bow.
Lorn follows her lead and bows as well, but his senses are already scanning
the vessel, trying to discover what it is that had previously concerned
Ryalth.
Master L Igek! calls another younger man in green, also wearing a short gold
vest, but a simpler one.
The Brystan bows to Ryalth. If you will excuse me for a moment&
Not at all. Would you mind if I showed the enumerator around-just the open
decks? His experience has been more in the grasslands than here.
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Be our guest. L Igek smiles politely before turning.
This way, Ryalth says coolly, her voice harder than when she had spoken to
L Igek. Lorn follows as she climbs the ladder-steps to the higher rear deck.
They pass a raised platform that holds the ship s wheel and a rack designed,
presumably, to hold navigation gear when at sea.
Lorn can understand Ryalth s feelings about the ship. While the people hold
the normal ranges of order and chaos within their bodies, the ship itself is
less than whole. He lets his senses range down the rudder that dominates the
stern, but the wood is solid.
They parallel the taffrail and then head forward, descending the ladder on the
seaward side of the Courser. Lorn stiffens, then murmurs to Ryalth, Bracing&
the keel itself is cracking& a weakness in the wood& something like that.
Ryalth nods politely, and murmurs. Say no more. Not now. She adds more
loudly. That s the main hold cover there. Don t ask stupid questions.
Lorn bows his head and answers obsequiously, Yes, Lady Merchanter. As you
wish.
Ryalth s eyes harden. Remember that.
L Igek, turning from the junior officer or mate, smothers a smile as he nears
them. I have the agreements in my cabin. He gestures, then leads Ryalth
through the open passageway on the main deck into the rear deckhouse.
Lorn follows.
This enumerator is more& muscular than the last, says the Brystan in a low
voice to Ryalth.
They have differing talents, Ryalth replies off-handedly.
L Igek laughs. I like you, Lady Ryalth. Like a dagger, you reach the point
quickly. He stops in the narrow passageway, steps past the doorway, and
allows both Ryalth and Lorn to enter.
The master s cabin is cramped, with a narrow bunk flush against the rear
bulkhead. Forward of the bunk is a circular table, bolted to the deck, with
four low-backed chairs around it. Several scrolls and a pile of what appear to
be bills of lading are stacked on one side, a closed ledger beside them.
The Brystan seats himself by the papers and waits for Ryalth to sit.
You have a tenth of the oilseeds, and a twentieth part of the dried fruit. Do
you wish a tenth of the gingerwood?
I would greatly like that, Ryalth admits, but the House accounts will not
cover that at present.
L Igek nods as if he had expected the response.
And how much do you wish to take of the return spice cargo? asks the
Brystan. You had mentioned an interest there.
As little as you will grant me the favor of, Ryalth says almost pleadingly.
We are but a small house, as well you know, and& you did hear of what befell
the Western Hare?
The pale-skinned Brystan nods. I was not aware&
Enough, Ryalth replies. More than enough. We have shares in others, but I
cannot promise what has not ported. She shrugs apologetically. You will set
out before we see those coins, yet I would not lose your favor.
Fifty golds& I cannot accept less, not for the best in Hamorian peppercorns
and cumin.
Ryalth winces. For you, for your friendship, it will be fifty. She pauses.
But the usual arrangement.
Of course. That will not change.
Ryalth extracts a wallet from somewhere and carefully counts out twenty-five
golds, then eases them onto the polished wood of the table before L Igek. In
turn, the Brystan counts them. Only after that does he lift the pen and write
out the exchange bill.
Once he has finished it, he extends the parchment to her. She reads slowly and
carefully. Then she nods. L Igek slides the inkstand across to her, and
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