“You’re protesting the Imperial edict raising port imposts?” asked Kuni.
“Among other policies,” said Naroca.
“I find the suggestion intriguing,” said Kuni Garu. “Old Gan, of course, was renowned for its trade ships, but it was the view of Kon Fiji that while farmers, weavers, craftsmen, smiths, and similar tradesmen made things, traders simply moved things around and profited from the needs, deprivations, and hungers of others. Your presentation, while marvelous, was sparse on justification. Can you elaborate?”
“That is the best demonstration ever,” said Phyro. “I wish we could make moving pictures like that.”
“I don’t think you’d have the patience,” said Théra. “Hundreds of artists must have worked nonstop since the Grand Examination to make that. Naroca’s family is very wealthy, and this isn’t a very subtle display. Father isn’t going to like that.”
“I thought Da liked traders,” whispered Phyro. “He’s always going on about how much he did to protect them back when he was the Duke of Zudi.”
“Remember that sometimes the emperor must ask questions that aren’t his,” said Soto, “and sometimes the answers he elicits are meant for other ears.”
“The Moralists have much to teach us, Rénga,” said Naroca, “but the One True Sage lived during a different time, when villages were small and inhabitants never traveled more than ten miles from home. Different times require different wisdom.”
“Some truths are eternal verities,” said Empress Jia. Her voice was not loud, but it carried crisply across the hall.
Although no one said anything or made a sudden move, Théra could feel the mood in the Grand Audience Hall shift as everyone perked up their ears.
It was rare for the empress to appear at court, and even rarer for her to speak. The courtly protocols originally designed by Zato Ruthi had adhered to the customs of the Seven States by excluding the participation of the emperor’s family from formal court. But Kuni had insisted on including seats for his wives next to his throne, to the protests and consternation of Moralist scholars. It was Empress Jia who proposed the compromise of voluntarily limiting her and Risana’s appearance to special occasions, at which she and Risana mostly remained silent.
Naroca bowed to the empress in acknowledgment. “That is true, Your Imperial Majesty. Yet the Moralists do not have a monopoly on truth. The great-spirited Ra Oji once said that the ebb and flow of the sea were at the heart of every search for happiness.”
“What does that Fluxist adage have to do with the jangling of coins and bargaining for advantage?” asked Jia.
“The essence of the tides is movement and change. It is the constant flow that prevents stagnation and refreshes life. To say that merchants produce nothing is a misunderstanding. We bring goods from places of abundance to where they’re wanted, so that excess may make up for shortage. The tide of commerce fulfills desires and spreads new ideas.”
“That is a pretty speech,” said Jia. “But coming from the son of Géjira’s wealthiest merchant, who is no doubt unhappy with the Imperial edict to raise port duties so as to lower farmers’ taxes, one rather suspects its sincerity.”
For a moment, it seemed as if Naroca was cowed. But he soon rallied. “All men and women are driven by self-interest. Merchants are simply more honest about this fact. Without profit and trade, fields will lie fallow and mines abandoned—”
“I think the farmers and miners who labor for their food will be very surprised to hear that you claim to be the purpose of their life.” The empress did not relent. “Emperor Ragin had settled veterans from the rebellion and the Chrysanthemum-Dandelion War on small plots of land in the hope that they would become self-sufficient farmers leading stable lives. But unscrupulous merchants bought up these plots with promises of quick pay—which many of the veterans quickly frittered away in gambling parlors—and now the former landowners have to scrape for a living as tenant farmers or laborers. Raising the taxes on trade was a way to stop this trend.”
“But small family farms are not as efficient as large farms—”
“Oh, do not lecture to me about efficiency! I know well the tricks you employ. Once you’ve bought up enough plots of land, you turn them into sugarcane fields or silk plantations to make more profit, instead of growing rice and sorghum and vegetables. There are entire regions of Géjira where food has to be imported, a truly bizarre situation for some of the best land in Dara. Staking the lives of entire provinces on the fate of a single crop makes Dara more unstable, and when the crop fails, the unemployed laborers have to resort to banditry. We should heed the lessons taught by the ancient Tiro states of Diyo and Keos well, for Keos fell due to being dependent on Diyo grain shipments.”
“Regional self-sufficiency is not desirable, Your Imperial Majesty. You speak of ancient Diyo and Keos, but the patterns of more recent history support my view. Rima declined because it strove for self-sufficiency and achieved only stagnation. Emperor Ragin’s Dasu, on the other hand, rose in part because of the pursuit of commerce.”
At this, Emperor Ragin chuckled. “Cogo, do you still remember those ‘Authentic Dasu Cooks’ you trained?”
Prime Minister Cogo Yelu smiled and inclined his head.
Empress Jia ignored this side exchange. “Your arguments dance from Fluxism to Incentivism, and then to Patternism. Yet at its heart, trade is exploitation. When the harvest is good in Géfica, you lower the prices you offer so that the farmers barely make more than they do in other years; when locusts strike Tunoa, you raise the prices you demand so that families must choose between going into debt or starvation. The very word ‘trade’ is a misnomer—you prey upon misery! Why is it that the farmers of Cocru who till the fields still go hungry while the merchants of Gan dress in silk and eat meat at every meal?”
“That is but the natural consequence—”
“Silence! Who recommended you for the Grand Examination?”
The arrogant grin on Naroca’s face froze.
“Why is Mother so outraged?” whispered Timu. “This isn’t like her at all.”
“Watch,” said Soto. “Sometimes you kick the dog because you’re aiming for the master.”
“I did,” Queen Gin of Géjira intoned coolly—the old Tiro state of Gan had covered both Géjira and Wolf’s Paw, though now Wolf’s Paw was an Imperial province while Géjira was Gin’s charge. “He might be a bit arrogant, but I thought he showed signs of brilliance in his Provincial Examination answers.”
“He argues like a paid litigator, with no integrity or steadfastness of principle.”
“Lady Jia,” Queen Gin of Géjira said, “I apologize for the rash way this young man from my fief spoke.” Her tone, on the other hand, suggested no regret at all. “However, is it not the custom at Palace Examinations dating back to the time of the Seven States for the examinee to speak frankly without fear of offense?”
Luan Zya frowned while the other ministers and generals kept their eyes focused on the ends of their noses, not even daring to take a deep breath.
“Lady Jia?” the empress repeated, dumbfounded.
“Forgive me, Your Imperial Majesty,” said Queen Gin, pronouncing the honorific stiffly. “Sometimes it’s hard to change old habits. My mind still acts as it did in the days of old, when the emperor was just Lord Garu and I his marshal.” Still seated, she bowed to the empress, though not very deeply, as her stiff ceremonial armor allowed her only a soldier’s greeting.