Firewalk (31 page)

“I wonder how my own people are reacting to the alliance,” Kayli said, troubled by the thought. Bregond had far more to lose than prosperous, cosmopolitan Agrond. The Bregondish had fought so hard, so long, to hold what remained of their land and their customs. Now the alliance with Agrond meant mingling with strangers who had been their enemies, who had stolen the best of their lands. Now the influx of goods from Agrond would mean that Bregond was
buying
the products of that stolen land, products that would compete with their own trade goods in the market. And Kayli would be only the first to bear a child of mixed blood.

“Likely your parents won’t have the same trouble,” Randon said comfortingly. “They’re long-established rulers. The people are always more doubtful of a newcomer, especially one they weren’t too sure of in the first place.” He grinned wryly.

But Kayli wondered. Bregond was not ruled as stringently as Agrond apparently was. The nomadic clans largely went their own way, governed by their clan leaders, having no contact with the country’s High Lord and Lady for years at a time. The Orders, too, kept to themselves, seldom looking to the High Lord and Lady for resolution of conflicts or protection. The people of Bregond were proud and independent—and stubborn, too. They would be suspicious of any change as quick as drastic as the alliance—and in Bregond, suspicion could quickly flare into anger.

“There’s a lot of troops outside the wall,” Randon said in surprise, glancing out the door. “Did you call them?”

“No, Terralt spoke to the guard captain,” Kayli answered. “But I urged him to help. He would not let me go to you.”

“And thank the Bright Ones he didn’t,” Randon said, sighing. “That lot would have been over the wall in a breath, throwing bricks instead of pebbles, and at you instead of me. Come on, we’ll let the guards get rid of the last stragglers, and we can finish dressing for breakfast.”

Food was Kayli’s least concern, but she followed Randon back to their quarters, then down to the dining hall for a silent and unhappy breakfast. Then, unsurprisingly, there was a meeting with the advisers to discuss the riot, its causes and aftereffects—and what could be done to prevent another.

“Nothing will reassure these people but time,” Lady Tarkas told them. “Now that the border’s open—
legally
open—the first Bregondish goods will soon appear in the market. Once folk see that the benefits promised by the alliance are real, they’ll come around, especially if the Sarkondish raids stop. There’s always been rumors that Bregond secretly allied with Sarkond.”

Kayli heard this last with vast astonishment. Bregond? Allied with barbaric
Sarkond?
Why, it was well that no Agrondish negotiator had mentioned such a rumor to her father, or the insult might have precipitated the very war they wished to avoid.

“Surely this can’t be news to you, High Lady,” Lord Vyr said, noting Kayli’s affronted scowl. “The Sarkondish raiders fight from horseback, after all like Bregondish warriors, and in fact their horses are very like yours.”

“Their horses are like ours,” Kayli said coldly, “because they steal our breeding stock when they raid the horse clans. And they fight from horseback because they could scarcely travel leagues to raid the borders on foot, not when our warriors would pursue on horseback. And I would note to this council that some of the Sarkondish raiders use the Agrondish horizontal bolt-shooter, not our longbows, and they wear armor and metal helms as Agrondish soldiers do. And if the Sarkondish were allied with Bregond, their raiders would scarcely take slaves for sale, knowing that
we
would never purchase them!”

Lord Vyr flushed and rose to his feet, opening his mouth to retort, but Randon rose; too, holding up his hands.

“Kayli! Vyr!” he said sharply. “The enemy’s far to the north, not sitting here in the chamber.”

Kayli took a deep bream and reined in her temper with difficulty; Lord Vyr clenched his teeth, and sat down again. Randon glanced warningly at both of them before he spoke again.

“We know the rumors about Bregondish dealings with Sarkond are ridiculous,” he said, “so we’ll move past that, please, and on to something more useful. Vyr, I want two additional companies of guardsmen in the city, three more on notice.”

Lord Vyr’s eyebrows shot up, but he said nothing.

“Lady Tarkas, I want those Bregondish trade goods scattered through the market as quickly as possible. That leatherwork and those furs are enough to tempt the most discerning nobleman, and the perfumes will be the rage of the city within a sevenday. The gemstones, too, are exceptional.”

Lady Tarkas shrugged.

“I will do as you say, of course, High Lord,” she said. “And the citizens of the city will, of course, adore the new trade goods; they are as fine as you say. However, instead of angry peasants beating at your gate, you’ll then have Master Tanner Crinna, Master Perfumer Zada, and Master Gemcutter Trelanna besieging the castle. There’s been grumbling ever since I showed some of the goods to the mercantile families. Master Weaver Odric is already fuming over the cloth samples that came with the first caravan. Never mind, at least the guilds won’t riot, and as you’re supping with Master Dyer Lidian tonight, you can discuss the guild situation with him.” At Randon’s blank look, she raised her eyebrows. “You
did
send him a message yesterday, didn’t you? Didn’t Terralt deliver his reply to you this morning?”

Randon let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, I suppose he forgot about it in the confusion of the riot, and I didn’t see him afterward, but rushed right down to eat and meet with you,” he said. “Never mind. But if we’re to visit with Lidian, Kayli and I need to leave now. And I may know a way to pacify Lidian—and through him, some of the others.”

To Kayli’s surprise, Randon asked her to arrange their carriage and guard escort while he disappeared into the cellars. When Randon joined her at the carriage, a servant followed carrying a large box; when Kayli glanced at the box, however, Randon only smiled mysteriously.

They arrived at the Dyers’ Guildhouse a little after midday, but Master Dyer Lidian, who came out to meet them, seemed unperturbed by their lateness.

“Welcome, welcome, High Lord, High Lady!” he boomed, waving his dye-stained hands enthusiastically as he bowed. “Welcome to my humble guildhouse. After what I heard of this morning’s fracas at the castle gate, I feared I’d miss the pleasure of your company altogether, but I still had my cooks do the best they could. And here you are. Come in while the food’s still hot, and then we’ll trot through the place and see if I can’t dazzle the High Lady with my people’s talents.”

Kayli had no appetite whatsoever, having belatedly broken her fast only a short time before; to her dismay, however, Master Dyer Lidian had ordered an extravagant dinner, and she could hardly insult him by abstaining, not when they had come to show their friendship in the first place.

“I make my toast to the High Lord and Lady of Agrond,” Lidian said, his voice suddenly formal. “Long may they reign, in happiness and good health.” He emphasized the last two words subtly, but his gaze on Kayli and Randon had sharpened.

Randon reached for his own goblet without hesitation, and Kayli raised her own as well.

“I make my toast to the guilds,” he said, “and the truest Mends I’ve ever had.” He drank deeply.

Despite their repast not long before, Randon helped himself from every platter as if he’d eaten nothing for days, and Kayli perforce followed his example. Seeing them eat and drink without hesitation, Lidian gradually relaxed and chatted amiably with Randon, both of them pausing frequently to explain some facet of the dyeing process to Kayli, or to recount some story of a shared adventure or mishap. Gradually titles fell away, and the High Lord and the Master Dyer became simply Lidian and Randon again, and Kayli’s heart warmed as she saw Randon more relaxed than he’d been in days. It was hard to picture the aging, dye-stained, and rather coarse Lidian as the friend and companion of a nobleman, but somehow Kayli could more easily picture him sitting in a tavern, sipping ale, telling ribald stories, and flirting with the serving wenches than she could Randon.

“But enough of our reminiscences,” Lidian said suddenly, turning to Kayli. “Tell me, are the rumors true that our lovely and wise High Lady is a mage as well?”

“Well, I am a mage, and I am not,” Kayli answered hesitantly. “It is true that I trained at one of the magical Orders in Bregond. But I was only the rankest novice, and despite my study since I have arrived in Bregond, I would never presume to name myself a true mage.”

“Ha!” Randon shook his head. “She doesn’t do herself half justice, Lidian. I tell you, it’d make your blood run cold to see Kayli thrust her hand into the fire and pull out glowing embers. Go on, Kayli, show him something, won’t you?”

Kayli was a little embarrassed by the request, but she could hardly refuse, and at last she summoned a small flame to dance over her fingertips, to Lidian’s delight.

“Well, call yourself a mage or not,
I’m
impressed,” Lidian declared when Kayli had banished the small flame. “And now, if you’ve both finished, we’ll see if I can’t impress the High Lady with the sort of magic my guild can perform.”

Kayli had no knowledge of the dyeing industry; she had naively assumed that one took a piece of cloth, dipped it in a color essence, dried it, and that was that. She was astonished, therefore, to see how elaborate a process it really was, with preparatory solutions, dye baths, fixatives, bleaches—and even more astonishing was the amazing rainbow hues produced. Bregondish clothing tended to be utilitarian, and plain earth and grass colors were more practical than the flashy hues that seemed popular in Agrond. She remarked on the amazing variety of color to Lidian, and he beamed proudly.

“You won’t find better in all of Agrond, and I’d daresay far beyond,” he said triumphantly. “We’ve developed some of the best shades in the market, such as that purple you remarked on, and we’ve got a beautiful orange gold in the works, too.” Glancing at Kayli for permission, he turned the collar of her protective robe back slightly to examine the shade of her dress, and frowned critically.

“I’ll send over a few bolts for you to try,” he said. “With your lovely dark skin and hair, you should be wearing rich reds and golds and dark orange, don’t you think, Randon?”

“My lovely lady,” Randon said warmly, “would do justice to your best, but she’d look beautiful in plain sackcloth.”

“Well, sackcloth notwithstanding, an exquisite picture is worthy of the finest frame you can buy,” Lidian said wryly. “But come, my friend, are you going to leave me curious all day, or do I get to see what you’re hiding in that box you brought?”

“I thought I’d let you look at a little Bregondish artistry,” Randon said. He opened the box, took out several plain cloth samples, and handed them to Lidian. “Bregondish dyers don’t produce all the colors we fancy, so I thought you’d be interested in bringing in raw cloth and dyeing it.”

“Mmmm.” Lidian examined the cloth thoughtfully, sliding it through his stained fingers, pulling at it in different directions, and teasing at the edges of the weave. “Interesting stuff. Light and fine as a spider web, but tough. Good and sturdy, I’ll wager, but it breathes. What is it? It’s not flax, nor wool...”

“
Ikada
wool,” Kayli told him.
“Ikada
are a herd animal we raise for milk, meat, leather, and hair. They are hardy and can be sheared twice during warm weather.”

“Interesting, and useful. Animal hair takes a color differently than plant fiber.” He tugged at the weave again. “Odric would be sick with envy. This is a good tight weave, but very different than his pattern. I’d wager you good money he’ll be wanting to hire a few weavers over to teach him the trick of it, and then maybe arrange to buy bales of the wool to weave himself. Me, I’d be interested in the cloth, whether he weaves it or they do. If it holds a color true, I could sell this dear in the market.”

“So far we only have the samples,” Randon apologized. “But you’re welcome to keep some of them to show to Odric and to test with your dyes, and I’m sure we can get more soon.”

Lidian nodded.

“I’d be interested in buying a small amount, say a wagon-load or so, just to test,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “And the first batch is going into my personal wardrobe. I have no doubt that Odric would fill out the order, to try to duplicate the weave.” He glanced sideways at Randon. “But there’s another matter we’d best discuss, and not in front of all my apprentices.”

He led them back to a room empty but for a table and chairs, and then fetched wine for them. When they were comfortably settled, Lidian spoke boldly.

“Ever since the High Lady was poisoned, I’ve expected the city guard to come knocking on my door,” he said, “to haul me up before that mage of yours. I’ll tell you same as I’d say under truth spell: from the moment I walked in, neither I nor anybody I saw tampered with any food or drink, nor do I know any at that table who’d have done such a thing on the evilest day of their lives. Whoever wished your lady ill, I know nothing of it, nor do I know anybody who does. And I’ll say the same before your mage if I must.”

Randon extended his hand; after a moment Lidian took it.

“If I’d had any doubt of you,” Randon said, smiling, “we’d not have drunk your wine and eaten your food. And I had no end of trouble believing that my most loyal friends could sit at my table, smile politely at my face and poison my wife. No, you’d all say just what you thought in good plain words, and that would be the end of it.”

Lidian grinned.

“You going to see the rest of ‘em?” he asked.

“Eventually,” Randon said, sighing. “It’s a sad day when I haven’t time to enjoy the company of my friends, but the truth is I can’t spare many afternoons. And I’m afraid my lady deserves more of my attention than she’s been getting.”

Lidian only smiled wisely and glanced at Kayli’s belly; his expression said more plainly than words,
But apparently she got enough attention to conceive your child.
Kayli flushed, but pride and more than a little gratitude mixed with the embarrassment. Apparently rumors traveled quickly indeed in Tarkesh, but at least Lidian was kind enough to refrain from openly mentioning her pregnancy. Kayli supposed that even in cosmopolitan Agrond, a woman did not like to hear that her bedchamber activities were the talk of the city.