They paused at the top end of the market square in Kunchik, just before entering the square. Penrys shook her head.
It’s only been four days since I was last here. Seems impossible.
The market looked unchanged, well populated even as evening approached. If any of the people had fled in anticipation of the Voice, there was no evidence of it now.
*Come on up past me. I’m going to attach my string to yours.*
She gave him a startled look. *I can’t handle that many yet.*
*It’s not for long.*
She led her string alongside his, and then beyond him. He leaned over as the last horse passed and slipped his own lead rope over the end of the pack frame in a double loop, freeing up his riding horse.
“Just hold them here until I get back,” he said, as he trotted by her and turned west, off the square to the right.
She watched him disappear left again around the corner, onto a road paralleling the square, then turned her attention to the excellent view of the temple school on her left, illuminated by the setting sun. From the slope of the land and the height of her horse, she could make out the benches against the wall behind the colonnade.
They would be preparing for dinner soon, those who were left. How many had died? She hadn’t been able to keep track of who was alive that morning, but their losses were heavy. What had they done with the one-time captives? Were they there, too?
She could have scanned the temple school, she supposed, but she didn’t want to expose that much of herself to them.
Najud reappeared around the corner, walking his horse slowly to accommodate the two boys with him.
He left one of them with her. “Give him your rope. He’ll take them into the inn.”
She lifted the loop off her saddle horn and leaned down to give the boy the lead. “You all right with this?”
“It’s our job, minochi.”
He waited prosaically for Najud to reach the start of his own string and point out the loop to the other boy, who promptly untied it and took charge of the second string.
Then both the boys walked off into the gathering dusk the way they’d come, leading the tired horses behind them.
Najud halted alongside her. “Thought we could stay a night in a merchant inn. Lots of stabling, easy access to market.”
“Didn’t you want to see Tak Tuzap? Don’t they have markets south of the river?”
“Wanted to see Dzantig, too,” he said. “Plenty of time for Tak after that.”
He looked at her. “I think you’ll like this place. Meals, beds, and a real bath, with hot water.”
Her stomach growled at the suggestion, and he smiled.
“Good. Thought you’d agree.”
An actual dinner, with civilian sophistication. Penrys didn’t think she’d eaten so well in a very long time. Somehow it tasted all the better after a long soak in hot water, with Najud in another tub nearby.
She’d held her left hand out of the water but removed the neck bandage, willing to replace it afterward in their room for the pleasure of truly clean hair. When they were done, it was just a simple walk from their room down a flag-stoned passage to the inn’s common room and a heavy meal.
Najud thumped his empty mug on the table and raised it for service, while Penrys shook her damp hair and yawned before she could raise her fist to cover her mouth.
“Wake up, now, we’re going to have company,” Najud told her.
At her puzzled look, he cocked his head at the entrance. She realized he’d been watching it all through the meal.
She peered at the man walking in, and blinked. It was Dzantig, and he carried a canvas-wrapped package under his arm.
“I called him,” Najud said, tapping his forehead meaningfully. “Wasn’t sure he’d come.”
He kicked out an empty chair at the table as Dzantig drew up. “Sit. You’ve eaten?”
Dzantig looked ill at ease. “I couldn’t get away earlier, so I had to wait until after dinner.”
Penrys had straightened up in her chair. “You look well, considering.”
“And you, brudigna.” He settled into his chair and a man walking by handed out two mugs, one for him and another for Najud.
“I think I owe you my life,” Penrys said, soberly. “Twice. Once in the tunnels, and once bleeding to death at the barricade.”
She felt the burden of the debt as an ache in her chest. “I don’t know how to repay you.”
Najud took a lengthy pull from his mug, and smiled. “Good thing that I do.”
Both the others turned to stare at him.
“Here’s what we should do,” he said. “I want to set up a trade route, over the High Pass, on the border in Song Em. Bring a caravan through regularly, up all the way to Gonglik, right here.” He hooked a thumb out in the direction of the market square.
“Trade with the Zannib?” Dzantig said, stunned.
“Why not? Must have plenty to sell.”
Dzantig waved that aside. “That’s not it. It’s never been done.”
“So?”
Penrys leaned back and watched Najud in professional action as a trader for the first time.
“What if this truce ends up with us all returning to Nagthari?” Dzantig protested.
“Are there no roads to Linit Kungzet and beyond? Shortcuts, too, maybe.”
Dzantig paused with his mouth open, and Najud laughed at him.
“I don’t have any authority to do this.”
“Who does?”
That stopped Dzantig altogether. “I don’t know.”
“Would they want this, the Rasesni?”
Dzantig nodded, hesitantly. “Some of them. But what about Kigali? They’ll never let it happen, trade with another country that they don’t control.”
Najud shrugged. “We can adjust as we go along. It’s a long border.”
Penrys interrupted. “Do you want this, Dzantig? Would you like to be part of it?”
He drained the rest of his mug in silence while he thought about it, and they respected his delay.
“Yes,” he said, slowly. “Yes, I would. The wizards who want to share knowledge survived better than the jealous ones like Dhumbhod—Vejug the traitor is an embarrassment to them now and they don’t want to be linked to him. The new Mage Council would probably agree. That Rinshradke is part of it now, Zandaril, and she thinks well of you. And what the wizards want, they mostly get.”
“Priests aren’t dumb about what might happen otherwise, eh?” Najud said.
“It’s not just that,” Dzantig said.
He looked at Penrys. “I told them what happened that night, everything except the names of where you went, and I told them that Dzangab had required it of me. This has created some… divine authority for change. We are at a decision point, some think, about what we should do, and the balance may have shifted.
“What you propose, Zandaril, that might tilt the balance even further.”
He swallowed. “Yes, I want to be part of this.”
Najud nodded genially. “Good. Here’s what you do. I want you to be my factor. Tak Tuzap can probably help you, introduce you to the merchants here in Gonglik. You carry my proposal to the council and tell them—without you, I say there’s no deal.”
Dzantig’s eyes widened and Penrys hid a smile.
“Tell them it will take a year to get the first caravan organized, maybe two. You get paid like any factor, a percentage of the value of the goods. Tak Tuzap can explain how it works.”
“But, but…” Dzantig sputtered.
Najud pressed past his objections. “I will check sarq-Zannib treaties with Rasesdad and Kigali, and if something needs to change, we will change it. Yes?”
Dzantig finally got his objection out. “You’re not in charge in sarq-Zannib, you can’t just make this happen.”
“Well, if we are all at war, you’re probably right. If not, what is there to lose by trying?”
Penrys nodded and ticked off a mark on Najud’s side. If she’d been keeping score, that would have been a winner.
“Besides,”Najud said, “I do know people on the Ghuzl mar-Tawirqaj in Ussha, and both of us are currently in favor with the Liju, the Emperor, at the moment.”
“Long may it last,” muttered Penrys, and both heads turned to her.
She thought back to books she had read in the Collegium. “In sarq-Zannib, new caravans based in the west would bring in entirely different goods from the established ones in the east, while the outgoing market is barely served. Not so much for the big traders to object to, not much overlap, isn’t that right?”
Najud nodded. “It’s not impossible.”
“And I bet no one knows if Kigali would object, or not,” Penrys offered. “Try it and find out.”
