As they had in the market square, they eyed each other warily. Kugu said, "I gave my lessons last night. I wondered if you would come by. When you didn't, I missed you."
"My wife and family took things the wrong way," Talsu answered. "They don't understand how things are in the bigger world. So I'm having to be quiet about my change of heart, if you know what I mean. I don't want to stir anybody up, and so I think I'd be smarter to stay home for a while."
Kugu nodded, swallowing the lie as smoothly as if it were truth. "Aye, that can prove troublesome," he agreed. "Perhaps you could arrange to have something happen to one of them."
Perhaps I could arrange to have something happen to you, you son of a whore, Talsu thought. But all he said was, "People would wonder about it, you know."
"Well, so they would," the silversmith admitted, "and that kind of gossip would make you less useful. We'll think of something sooner or later, I'm sure."
Useful, am I? went through Talsu's mind. We'll see about that, by the powers above. He smiled at Kugu. "So we will."
Vanai hated it when Ealstan was gloomy. She did her best to cheer him up, saying, "You're bound to find more work soon."
"Am I?" He sounded anything but cheered. "Pybba wasn't joking, curse him. After he gave me the sack, he slandered me to everybody he knew. Finding anybody who'll trust me not to steal hasn't been easy."
"Powers below eat Pybba," Vanai said, in lieu of saying something like, Why didn't you keep your nose out of his business when he told you to? The good sense in a question like that was plain to see, but it didn't help her now. She'd said the same thing before, and Ealstan hadn't wanted to listen.
"The powers below will eat us if I don't start bringing in more money again." His voice was raw with worry.
"We're all right for a while yet," Vanai said, which was true. "We got ahead of the game when you did so well there for a while, and I spent a lot of time being poor. I know how not to spend very much."
Her husband drained his breakfast cup of wine. He made a face. Vanai understood that; it was about as cheap as it could be while staying this side of vinegar. She'd already started economizing. With a sigh, he said, "I'll go out and see what I can scrape up. I'll give it another few days. After that, if nobody wants me to cast books for him anymore…" He shrugged. "My brother spent the last couple of years of his life building roads. There's always work for somebody with a strong back." He got up, gave Vanai a quick kiss, and went out the door.
As she washed bowls and mugs, she remembered her grandfather after Major Spinello set him to work building roads outside Oyngestun. A few days of that had almost killed Brivibas. A few weeks of it surely would have, and so she'd started giving herself to Spinello to save Brivibas from the road crew.
Because of all that, the notion of Ealstan building roads filled her with irrational dread. At least I know it's irrational, she thought: small consolation, but consolation nonetheless. Ealstan was young and strong, not an aging scholar. And he was Forthwegian, not Kaunian- an overseer wouldn't be tempted to work him to death for the sport of it.
She looked in the pantry and sighed. She hadn't wanted to go shopping today, but she couldn't very well cook without olive oil, and only a little was left in the bottom of the jar. A yawn followed the sigh. More than a little ruefully, she looked down at her belly. The baby didn't show yet, but it did still leave her tired all the time.
Before she left the flat, she renewed the spell that kept her looking like a Forthwegian. She wished she'd done that while Ealstan was still there. Aye, the spell had become second nature to her, but she liked to be reassured that she'd done it right. If she ever did make a mistake, she wouldn't know till too late.
Silver clinked sweetly as Vanai put coins in her handbag. She nodded to herself. She'd told Ealstan the truth; money wasn't a worry yet, and wouldn't be for a while. She still found the handbag a minor annoyance. Trouser pockets were more convenient for carrying things. But Forthwegian women didn't wear trousers. If she wanted to look like a Forthwegian, she had to dress like one, too.
She'd just lifted the bar from the door when someone knocked on it. She jerked back in surprise and alarm. She hadn't expected visitors. She never expected visitors. Visitors meant trouble. "Who is it?" she asked, hating the quaver in her voice but unable to hold it out.
"Mistress Thelberge?" A man's voice, deep and gruff. Unquestionably Forthwegian- no Algarvian trill.
"Aye?" Cautiously, Vanai opened the door. The fellow standing in the hallway was a vigorous fifty, with shoulders like a bull's. She'd never seen him before. "Who are you? What do you want?"
He drew himself up straight. "Pybba's the name," he rumbled. "Now where in blazes is your husband?" He spoke as if Vanai might have had Ealstan in her handbag.
"He's not here," she said coldly. "He's out looking for work. Thanks to you, he'll probably have a hard time finding any. What more do you want to do to him?"
"I want to talk to him, that's what," the pottery magnate answered.
Vanai set a hand on the door, as if to slam it in his face. "Why should he want to talk to you?"
Pybba reached into his belt pouch. He pulled out a coin and tossed it to her. "Here. This'll give him a reason," he said as she caught it. She stared at the coin in her hand. It was gold.
Vanai couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a goldpiece, let along held one. Silver circulated far more freely in Forthweg than gold, and Brivibas, back in Oyngestun, had not been the sort of man who attracted any of the few goldpieces the kingdom did mint. "I don't understand," Vanai said. "You just sacked Ealstan. Why- this?" She held up the gold coin. It lay heavier in her hand than silver would have.
"Because I've learned some things I didn't know when I gave him the boot, that's why," Pybba replied. "For instance, he's got- he had- a brother named Leofsig. Isn't that so?" Vanai stood mute. She didn't know where the pottery magnate was going with his questions or why he was asking them. Pybba seemed to take her silence for agreement, for he went on, "And some son of a whore from Plegmund's Brigade killed his brother. Isn't that right?"
He didn't know everything; he didn't know that the fellow from Plegmund's Brigade who'd killed Leofsig was Ealstan's- and poor Leofsig's- first cousin. But he knew enough. Vanai asked, "What's this to you?"
"It's worth gold to me to see him, that's what it is. You tell him so," Pybba said. "Aye, tell him just that. And keep the money whether he decides he wants to see me or not. He'll be stubborn. I know cursed well he will. Some ways, he reminds me of the way I was back in my puppy days." He laughed. "Don't tell him that. It'll just put his back up. So long, sweetheart. I've got work to do." Without another word, he hurried toward the stairs. Vanai got the idea he always hurried.
She went through the rest of the day in a daze. She didn't want to take the goldpiece with her when she went down to the market square to buy oil, but she didn't want to leave it back in the flat, either. She knew that was foolish; aye, it was worth sixteen times its weight in silver, but the flat already held a good deal more than sixteen times as much silver as there was gold in that one coin. The nervousness persisted even so.
When she got back with the olive oil, the first thing she did was make sure the gold coin was where she'd left it. Then she had to wait for Ealstan to come home. The sun seemed to crawl across the sky. It was sinking down behind the block of flats across the street when he finally used the familiar coded knock.
One glance at his face told Vanai he'd had no luck. "About time for me to start paving roads, looks like," he said glumly. "Pour me some wine, will you? If I get drunk, I won't have to think about what a mess I'm in."