"I don't have it," Giras whimpered. "Lander wouldn't sell it to me. He kept it. The coat I sold this morning-to one of Lander's men." Li scowled and Giras cringed. "I didn't know you'd be coming in!"
Li growled and reached for the foul coat he had just discarded. Tycho would have to wait for the rubies. "I need a weapon then." Giras cringed again.
"A weapon? I can't help you. I don't carry them. Forbidden for me to even-" Li rose and stomped toward him. Giras swallowed hard. Darting over to a large trunk, he twisted on a handle. There was a click and both the lid and front of the trunk swung open with graceful majesty. An array of weapons glittered within. Li looked them over and chose a sword that was curved like his dao, though with a lighter, Western blade. Giras nodded. "Calishite scimitar. Excellent choice-"
"Be quiet." Li took the sheath that went with the scimitar, slid the blade into it, and gave Giras a final glare. "You should find another trade." He turned and stalked out of the shop.
He was so wrapped up in his anger that he barely even noticed the tottering old woman in the street until he had practically walked right over top of her. She gasped and he caught her arm, helping her steady herself. "Your pardon, honored mother," he apologized and started to turn away.
The woman grabbed his wrist and said sharply in a thin, liquid voice, "Kuang Li Chien!"
Li froze, startled, and looked down. The woman was looking at him intently, eyes of a faded blue focused on him. Her grip was frail and quivering. Her entire body shook slightly. He could have pulled away easily. There was something familiar about the woman, though. "You live with Tycho," he said. She had been asleep on a couch when he had slipped out that morning. Another memory came back to him-her face as she prodded his aching body. "You helped Tycho heal me."
"My name is Veseene. I'm Tycho's friend. He did the work of healing you, though." Her eyes hardened. "If I let you go, will you run again?" Li flushed.
"No. And I apologize for leaving this morning. I have seen Tycho and spoken with him. We have made our peace." He gave her a little bow. "I hope you can forgive me as well. It was rude, but I felt there was something I needed to do. I've explained it to Tycho. He's even agreed to help me."
Veseene's eyebrows rose like pale wings. "Did he?" She released his wrist. "Would you care to explain to me, too?"
Li hesitated. "It is a long story, Veseene. Do you speak Shou?" Veseene shook her head. "Perhaps Tycho could explain it to you later then?"
"Perhaps he could." She cocked her head, though the shaking of her body almost made it look like she was nodding. "I heard what went on Giras's shop."
"Tycho sent me here to buy back what Lander took from me."
"It sounded like a very violent purchase."
"Giras forced me to haggle."
A smile creased Veseene's face. "Lander won't be happy about that." Li smiled back.
"Lander," he said, his grip tightening on the scimitar, "is welcome to discuss the matter with me at any time." He nodded toward the water and the dockside district. "I'm supposed to meet Tycho at the Wench's Ease now. Would you like to come with me? "
She shook her head. "I'm on an errand," she said. "Why don't you come with me?" Her arm slipped through his.
The gesture was very easy, very natural, but Li could sense a steel-like will and purpose behind it. "Do I have a choice?"
"No, not really." Veseene began to stroll along the street, pulling Li along more by force of personality than physical strength. Her steps were short and careful over the slippery slush that remained from the night's snowfall. Li frowned and shifted his arm so that he gave her more support. She nodded gratefully. "Thank you. I'm not quite as graceful as I used to be, I'm afraid."
"The young peach tree is beautiful and tender," said Li, "but it bears little fruit."
Veseene smiled again. "You have a certain charm to you, Kuang Li Chien."
"Just call me 'Li,'" he told her. "I regret that it is a borrowed charm-that verse was written by the poet Kar Wuan many centuries ago. I studied it as part of my training for the imperial bureaucracy."
"Knowledge is its own grace," said Veseene. "How do you like that? I made it up just now."
"Truly immortal wisdom."
They walked almost half a block in silence. Every few paces, Li stole a look at Veseene. She was still tall for her advanced age and only a little bit stooped. The tremors that shook her body and rendered her voice strange and wet were really the only sign of the infirmity of years.
Veseene didn't return his glances or even look at him at all, but just kept her eyes on the ground, alert for treacherous footing. When she spoke again, she said, "Tell me the short version of your story, Li."
He hesitated for a moment and told her the essence of his tale. "Pirates on the Sea of Fallen Stars attacked and killed a trading party from my home city a year and a half ago. My brother was spared but taken prisoner. We have heard nothing of him since then. I came west to find him."
"AndBrin?"
"Brin was mate of that pirate ship. He is the last survivor of it and may be the only one who knows what happened to my brother. Tycho has agreed to make inquiries and try to arrange a chance for me to talk with Brin."
"Ah," said Veseene. "And you've heard nothing at all from the pirates? No ransom demands?" Li shook his head. "Ah," she said again and they walked a little farther before she added, "Tycho is clever, but he's also a hothead. He doesn't always think things all the way through."
Li stiffened. He glanced at Veseene, but she was still watching the ground as she walked. "Pirates," she continued, "generally don't take prisoners for sport. They take them for ransom. And why take only one prisoner when they could have ransomed the entire trading party?" She looked up finally and met his eyes. "And why," she said bluntly, "do you need a sword if you just want to talk to someone?" Li pressed his lips together. Veseene's eyes narrowed. "You're not telling me-or Tycho-the whole story."
"No," Li admitted tightly. "I'm not. And I can't. But what I'm not saying doesn't concern you. I owe Tycho my life. I won't put him in danger."
"I hope not. Because if Tycho comes to harm, I'll come after you." She stopped. "Every peach has a stone, Li. I may be old, but I'm tough. I drink wasp venom for fun."
"I understand, honored mother," Li said politely. Ve-seene raised an eyebrow.
"You don't believe me." She pointed above her head. Li glanced up. There was a sign there, words he couldn't understand written out in western script. He recognized the picture that went with them though. A bundle of herbs beside a mortar and pestle. An herbalist's shop. "Come inside with me," said Veseene.
She drew him through a door and up a flight of narrow stairs. The shop was at the top of them, a dim, fragrant space with crock-lined walls and dry, leafy bundles hanging from the rafters. A slender, dusk-skinned woman with long black hair and eyes rimmed with dark paint looked up from a worktable, first at Veseene and, with a lingering glance, at Li. Veseene greeted her. "Olore, Sephera. I'm here for my tea."
The woman nodded and rose. She went around the room, selecting crocks and jars from the wall. When she had a collection of half a dozen, she returned to her table and began mixing the contents of each together in a mortar. "Sephera," said Veseene, "my friend here was wondering what went into my tea."
"Things to energize muscles made weak and quicken nerves made dull," said Sephera. Her voice was soft, with a resonant, chanting quality. "Laspar needles and pepper, blackroot and winterberry seeds." She took two spoonfuls of rust-colored flakes from a small jar. "Redflower leaves." The last jar was tightly sealed with waxed cloth and Sephera held it at arm's length as she opened it. She reached inside with thin wooden tongs and removed a pale amber lump, holding it up for Li to see. It was only about the size of the tip of his smallest finger. "The crystallized venom of a giant wasp," said Sephera. She added it to the mortar, re-sealed the jar, took up a pestle, and gently began to crush the assembled ingredients.