Battle Magic (17 page)

She exchanged her greetings with Rajoni and her mother, Nisha — the
gilav
himself took over as ride leader while Nisha and his daughter had their midday with Rosethorn and talked business. The women invited Rosethorn to take a seat on a foldout bench as she surveyed the food set on the table between the three of them.

Since this clan of Traders had its roots in the Realms of the Sun, Rosethorn was braced for the spicy vegetable stew with fish and green chilies and the pickles flavored with mustard seeds. Silently she thanked Mila of the Grain for the rice that took some of the bite off the chilies and mustard. She even managed believable thanks to her hosts for the excellence of the meal.

She always thought of Lark when she ate food like this. Lark could eat spicy food by the bucket, the hotter the better. She’d acquired a taste for it as a traveling player on the roads between the Pebbled Sea and the Storm Dragons Ocean. It was thanks to Lark that Rosethorn had at least a little preparation for some of the deadlier dishes of the southern and eastern countries.

Once they had cleaned their hands, Rajoni was pouring a final cup of tea when Nisha asked, “You said you have business with us?”

Rosethorn picked up the small cloth bundle she had put beside her when she took her seat. Carefully she set it before them, centering it with her hands. She knew that she had the two Traders’ absolute attention. Negotiating business with Traders
was a ceremony, one that Rosethorn, Briar, and Evvy appreciated. It involved gifts, which showed respect, and money, which showed thanks for the extra time and trouble those who conducted the caravan would be put to.

“To our sorrow, we have realized we must change our plans,” Rosethorn told the other women. “For reasons we may not discuss, we must leave the caravan at Kushi, but our goods, including Briar’s miniature trees, must be conveyed to Hanjian, and placed aboard the next Trader ship for Summersea in Emelan, on the Pebbled Sea. We will need to purchase our pack animals and riding horses from you as well.” She didn’t mention that she would be selling or trading their horses for others in Kushi. The less that was known of their plans, even by tight-mouthed Traders, the better.

“What of the cats?” Nisha asked with a frown. “It seems to me that your Evvy exercises a control over the cats that will not be possible for strangers. It would be difficult to convey them. Not impossible, given proper consideration, of course.”

“Of course,” Rosethorn said. She sighed. “No, the cats will be coming with us.” In fact, the battle over the cats had been almost as bad as the battle for Briar and Evvy to stay with Rosethorn. It was Evvy’s threat not to travel with them, but to follow them,
with
the cats, that had forced Rosethorn to agree.

“These are all very difficult and unusual requirements to fulfill,” Nisha said. She folded her hands on the table. It was time for the real bargaining to start.

Rosethorn opened the topmost folds of cloth on her bundle to reveal two rubies the size of pigeon’s eggs. Evvy could call forth the magic that was part of any stone, which meant that others would pay highly for what she had handled. She accepted precious
stones in trade, which had come in handy on their way east. Hidden deep among the girl’s things was a store of gems that the three of them had accumulated against emergencies during their travels in exchange for magical work.

Rajoni and Nisha were interested in the rubies. Their faces were expressionless, but Rosethorn could read the signs in the twitch of Rajoni’s shoulder and the hitch in Nisha’s breath. Now Rosethorn opened another fold in her package to reveal a vial and a small cloth bundle.

“A drop of this” — Rosethorn touched a finger to the vial — “on the lips of one you believe to be lying to you will result in truthful speech. A pinch of this” — she touched the bundle of herbs — “in a cup of tea for a laboring mother will ease her birth completely. They are our gifts, a thank-you in advance for the trouble we will cause.”

“We will need a list of your requirements,” Nisha said. “Written instructions for the transport of your goods to Hanjian, and another for the ship that will take them to your home.”

Rosethorn reached into a pocket in her habit and brought out folded papers. There had been plenty of time that morning, while waiting for the imperials to search for Parahan, to write everything out. “I will have the instructions for the ship’s captain later this afternoon,” she said, handing the papers over.

Rajoni looked her over. “
You
will need magic on your face,” she said frankly. “Briar and Evvy are fine for this country, but you stand out.”

“I could go veiled,” Rosethorn suggested.

“Our
mimander
can place a spell that is hard for other mages to detect,” Nisha replied. “We’ve had to use it before. It will last
a week, and those who look on you will believe you come from their country.”

Rosethorn frowned. “I thought
mimanders
could only deal in one kind of magic.”

Rajoni shrugged. “You are able to work a spell from another mage if it is complete and needs but a word from you, yes? It is the same here.”

Rosethorn grimaced. “I understand. There is another thing.”

The women raised their brows in the same expression. Up until that moment Rosethorn would have said Rajoni resembled her father, the
gilav.
She did her best not to smile, because now it was clear the daughter was her mother’s child as well. Rosethorn took a sip of tea and opened another fold of her bundle. There lay some of the emperor’s farewell gift, ten pieces of gold, each the length and width of Rosethorn’s hand and twice the thickness of her cup.

“I need a map of the country between Kushi and the end of the Snow Serpent Pass in Gyongxe,” she said quietly. “And I need a map of Gyongxe. I will copy yours or Briar will, but we need them.”

Nisha looked at Rosethorn, then at Rajoni. Trader maps were sacred documents, kept secret among Traders. Rosethorn saw refusal in the women’s eyes.

She opened the last fold. The mage back in Laenpa had traded Evvy three Kombanpur diamonds for a handful of stones that Evvy had prepared for magical use. In turn, Evvy had spent one month of her spare time that winter doing nothing else but thinking about those stones when she was not carrying them in her pockets, bathing with them, and even sleeping with them. The next
month she had turned one of the diamonds into ten shards, which one of the local stone merchants happily traded for two small diamonds. The month after that, with further thought, she had tried to shape a large diamond again, carefully running her power down chosen fissures in the gem. The result lay on the cloth before them: a clean, many-surfaced stone like a jewel-cut ruby, sapphire, or emerald, with a brilliant white fire. The cuts and stone were uneven, but Rosethorn could tell that made no difference whatever to the other women. She reached for it, saying, “I do understand the maps are —”

Nisha beat her to the diamond. “We will copy the maps. You will have them by the time we stop for the night. Be assured, they will be correct in all the ways you will require.”

Rajoni reached for a small basket nearby and placed the gifts in that. “It is true, then? The emperor means to wage war on Gyongxe?”

Rosethorn said nothing.

Nisha was turning the diamond over in her palm. She looked up when Rosethorn did not reply. Seeing that Rosethorn hesitated, she pointed to the unlit lamp that hung over the table. “What is said under the lamp is repeated only to those who are trusted,” she assured Rosethorn.

Rosethorn nodded. “He is going to invade through Inxia.”

The Traders exchanged looks. “We were supposed to cross roads with Third Caravan Gerzi fifty miles north of Dohan,” Rajoni said, her voice just above a whisper. “But only two of their people came by stealth to warn us. Imperial troops took the caravan. They now hold everyone but the two who escaped. Very slowly our people are leaving Yanjing. Our imperial treaty states
clearly that we are permitted to trade without harm. Either this emperor thinks we do not know our own treaties, or he believes we fear him too much to punish him by refusing to trade.”

Rosethorn felt a chill run down her spine. “I pray you will escape Yanjing before he sees that is what you are doing,” she replied. “It will go badly with your people if he realizes you are fleeing altogether.”

Rajoni made a V of two fingers and stabbed them at the floor. That was the way Traders signaled spitting when they were unwilling to soil their carpets.

“Even though you are not one of ours, your prayers are welcome,” Nisha said. “Now, let us begin to make your arrangements. And do not worry that the other travelers will tell any imperial soldiers about those who left us unexpectedly in Kushi. We will make sure that they understand it is against their best interest to speak of it.”

Rosethorn thanked them for the meal, and for the excellent bout of trading. Tying her wide straw hat to her head, she walked back to her wagon and her two unruly students. There was much to be done yet, even if the Traders had taken on the burden of copying the maps. Briar and Evvy had better have gotten their packing under way while she was gone, Rosethorn thought. She was still unhappy that they had been so impossible about continuing on to Emelan. She knew what Moonstream and her fellow dedicates back home would say when they learned she had dragged a child Evvy’s age into a war.

Those two impossible young people would never hear that she was secretly glad they were coming with her. The only thing that had frightened her more than taking them into a land soon
to be invaded was the thought of letting them travel back to Emelan without her. She trusted the Traders: The ties that bound Briar, his foster-sisters, their teachers, and the Traders were many and strong, too many and too strong to be erased by outsiders’ money and magic. But they were not Rosethorn, and they were not aware of the special kinds of peril that followed those who wielded ambient magic.

It was almost dawn when the three of them finally gave up on sleeping and finished their last preparations. Briar and Rosethorn had spent time before bed working with their traveling clothes. Sandry had made them from an unusual cloth, both the wool that most people wore and linen spun together with the wool. It was the linen that had mattered on delicate occasions, when Rosethorn or Briar could call on it to look more elderly, worn, and hard-used than it was. Their neat, clean traveling tunics and breeches turned into the weary clothes that poor farmers wore for days on end as they went about long hours of work. The braided trim came off, to be packed away. The wooden buttons lost their polish and developed cracks and splinters. Briar planned to send Evvy to buy straw sandals for them while he and Rosethorn swapped their horses for others more suited to poor farmers.

Using Evvy’s light stones they dressed, then quickly readied the horses and the cats. Two years’ of experience at having to leave some places quickly had made them good at being quiet.

They were drinking tea made over some of Evvy’s hot stones when Rosethorn raised the cat issue again. “Evvy, they’ll know to look for the cats. Can’t you —”

Evvy stared at her. “Then I’ll follow on my own. You don’t know. All those years in Prince’s Heights in Chammur — my cats were all I had. You never spent all your days with strangers looking to wallop you just for living. They were my blanket when I didn’t have anything else. When I had to eat rat, they shared with me. I am not dumping them with strangers in a foreign place.”

Two of the hot stones cracked and went to pieces.

“Sorry.” Evvy walked away from them, over to the wagon.

“We’ll grow plants from the carry-baskets,” Briar told Rosethorn soothingly. “If anyone asks, we’ll say we bought the plants at the market and we’re going to try them in the garden. No one will notice there’s cats inside.”

Steps — quiet ones — made them turn. Rajoni approached, carrying the smallest of lamps. She also had an old Trader woman with her. When they reached Briar and Rosethorn, Rajoni said, “When Grandmother learned what was going on — she had to log in your payment, understand — she told us we were fools.”

“My children sell a charm to disguise the woman and never think of seven cats,” the old woman remarked, and shook her head. “The soldiers capture you because of cats, then see charm to disguise woman and punish Traders. No.”

“She came to offer her help,” Rajoni explained when she realized Rosethorn thought the old woman was going to create problems.

“For a price,” Briar said quietly.

Both women raised their eyebrows as if to say, What else? Money was the main thing that kept Traders free and alive in the hostile lands where they made their living.

“Isn’t it the
mimander
who handles all spells, even purchased ones?” Rosethorn asked. He had come the night before and set the disguise spell before she went to bed. It had changed the look and feel of her from top to toe, everything about her but the way she spoke.

“The
mimander
still snores in his bed,” the grandmother replied crisply. “And we have no charms to sell that will disguise baskets of cats as crates of gabbling chickens. This is work that must be done over the baskets and over the cats.”