Rosethorn looked around the inside of the gilav’s wagon with admiration. The home of the head of the caravan and his family was ornate and as organized as the caravan itself. Each inch of space was put to use, with no clutter allowed on any surface. Rosethorn always took away ideas for her small workshop at home.
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.