Even with her baskets out for all to see, it proved to be as slow a morning as Lark could remember having in any of the larger Fal'Borna cities. It seemed that the cold winds had people frightened of the coming Snows. Or maybe word of the pestilence had scared folk so much that they were refusing to buy any goods from Eandi peddlers. A few people wandered past and some lingered over her display, but none of them so much as touched any of her wares, and many of those who did pause to look at her goods stared warily at those colorful Mettai baskets.
"Maybe I should put them away," she muttered, as the midday bells echoed through the marketplace. "I think they're scaring people."
But Antal merely shook his head. "Give it time. They'll come around."
Not long after, a young Fal'Borna woman stopped in front of Lark and surveyed her offerings. Like so many of the women in the plains clan, she was short and muscular, with bronzed skin that would have been quite unusual for a daughter of any other Qirsi nation. She planted her feet and crossed her arms over her chest before nodding toward the baskets.
"Where did you get those?" she demanded.
"The eastern plain," Lark said. "I bought them from another merchant."
"You know what's been done to our people with baskets like those?"
"I do now. I heard about it today for the first time."
"Yet you continue to display these. No doubt you hope to make a tidy profit by selling them."
"That's what we do," Antal said, drawing the woman's glare. "We're merchants."
The Fal'Borna woman twisted her mouth sourly.
"They're as fine as any baskets I've ever sold," Lark said. "You're welcome to pick one up and look at it. I'm sure you'll agree that they're beautifully made."
"I'm not certain I want to touch them at all," the woman said.
Two other Fal'Borna had stopped near Lark's blanket and were listening to their conversation.
Lark nodded, taking care to hold the woman's gaze. She wanted to keep the other two interested as well, but she knew that the woman was the key. If she could be convinced to buy, the others would follow her example. And once people in the marketplace saw that some had bought the baskets, their fears might be allayed somewhat. "I understand why you might be afraid of them," she said. "If I'd heard all that you probably have, I'd be scared, too. But the guards at your gate let me through. They asked me questions about the baskets, but they came to the conclusion that your people have nothing to fear from them. Even if you don't trust me, you must trust them, right?"
Lark sensed Antal nodding his approval.
The woman hesitated, then squatted down and reached for one of the baskets. Her hand paused over the handle, but then she took hold of it and stood. It was a deep basket, with a simple arching handle and grass osiers. It was brightly colored-reds, blues, yellows-and the coloring was as even and vivid as any Lark had ever seen. Had she the means to keep some of the baskets for herself, this would have been one of them.
"How much for this one?" the woman asked.
All of them were watching her-the other Fal'Borna, Antal, even the ill-tempered merchant on her right. Still, Lark held the woman's gaze. "Three sovereigns," she said.
The Fal'Borna frowned and shook her head. "Too much." But she didn't put the basket down. "One and a half."
Lark smiled. "No." She turned to the Fal'Borna who were standing nearby. "Can I interest you in a basket? Perhaps two?"
The first woman glanced at them, taking a small step toward Lark, as if to put herself between the merchant and the other Qirsi. "Wait, now. We're not done here. How much for this?"
"The price is three sovereigns," Lark said evenly.
The woman pressed her lips thin, looking angry. "I'll pay two and a half. Not a silver more."
Two and a half was a good price, and though she agreed with Antal that the baskets might well fetch three somewhere, they wouldn't bring that much here, not with all that had been said about Mettai baskets on this day. She made a show of mulling over the offer, but she'd made up her mind almost immediately.
"Very well," she said after a suitable pause. "Two and a half."
The Fal'Borna pulled a small coin pouch from within her wrap and counted out the money. After handing the coins to Lark, she turned and walked away, saying nothing more. Typical Fal'Borna manners.
Lark pocketed the coins and turned to the other Qirsi, who had already begun to sort through the remaining baskets. Within the next few moments she sold six more of them, all for two and a half. She also sold a blanket and two bolts of cloth. Antal sold several items as well, and for a short while it seemed like a normal day in any market. Then, just as quickly, their flurry of sales ended, and the merchants were alone again, the crowd of customers gone.
"There'll be more," Antal said, looking around, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "It's early yet."
Lark just nodded, hoping he was right.
"I was surprised you let the baskets go for so little," the man added a moment later.
She nodded, then sighed. "I know. There are others who might have held out for three."
Antal shrugged, but she could guess at what he was thinking.
"I just thought that with all these tales of the pestilence flying around, I was lucky to be selling them at all."
The man's eyebrows went up. "Well, you might be right about that. Hadn't looked at it that way."
Before either of them could say more, a second cluster of buyers came by, and many of them were drawn immediately to the baskets. This time Lark held out for three sovereigns, and though two of the Fal'Borna walked away, refusing to pay that much, three others paid the price, and two of them bought a pair each.
"Seems you were right," Lark said after they'd gone. "From now on, I'll take nothing less than three."
Antal grinned and nodded.
The rest of the day passed in much the same way. Occasional waves of buyers interrupted long periods when the merchants had little or nothing to do. It made for a long, slow day, but by the time sunset neared Lark had sold several blankets, some cloth, a bit of wine, and much of her smoked fish. Best of all, she had sold all but five of her baskets-eleven in all. And aside from the first few, she'd managed to sell each of them for three sovereigns.
"Looks like you had a good day after all," Antal commented, as he packed up his wares. "Better than I did, that's for certain."
Lark smiled. "I did pretty well," she admitted.
"Well, I'm glad for you. You moving on, or will you be here tomorrow?"
"I'm moving on," she said. "I'll sleep outside the gates tonight and head toward D'Raqor in the morning."
"More's the pity."
Lark paused over her goods, glancing at the old man. Her travels had been lonelier than usual since that night at the bend when she supped with her fellow merchants. Until today, that is.
"How 'bout if I buy you a meal before I go?"
Antal looked up at her and grinned. "I have some food with me as well. I can supply a bit of cheese, some dried breads maybe."
She shook her head. "No, I mean I'd really like to buy supper for you-in a tavern here in the city. An ale as well."
The man frowned, though he appeared interested. "You certain?"
"I had a good day, and thanks to your prodding, I got a few extra sovereigns for those baskets. Supper and an ale seems the least I can do."
Antal nodded once, smiling once more. "All right, then. You convinced me. Supper it is. Where?"
She shook her head. "I don't know the city all that well. You'll have to choose."
He laughed. "I can do that. In fact, I know just the place."
It was called simply the River House and it was tucked away on a narrow lane near the quays, at the southern end of the city. They drove their carts to a small alleyway near the river, and left them there, Antal assuring her that their wares and their horses would be safe.