Ondry paced the plaza. Only two traders had tables—a potter with a number of pieces that might bring a reasonable profit if Ondry were to travel to the nearby farms, and an alien trader with a number of strange pieces that appeared artistic in nature. Ondry tried to avoid art. At least he did now. He was quite embarrassed to remember how he’d once shown off his paltry wealth by wasting money on jewelry. He’d been so young he’d had shell stuck to his tail still.
Now he tried to focus on being more sensible. Pottery was sensible.
Ondry walked by the tables, and the human jumped, his hip hitting his table. He said something, the alien words darting out into the air like small fish, and Ondry exchanged an amused look with the other trader.
The Grandmothers said that humans were naturally smaller and that the size of these traders did not suggest youthfulness, but Ondry had to believe this specific individual was a young one who had just left his parents’ side. His light coloring might contribute to the impression—he appeared distressed, an impression only reinforced by his clumsy error. A number of pieces had fallen to the floor of the plaza, and this small human with his dark fur on his head went to his knees as he retrieved his goods.
Sometimes goodwill was the most valuable commodity a trader possessed. Ondry fully intended to be a nutu trader one day, and that meant he needed to begin to curb his own instinct toward profit and work toward the mutual profits of all involved. Helping a child just out of the egg retrieve a few pieces from the dust was a small step toward that.
Ondry crouched down and picked up a copper piece with delicate carvings on the face. After examining it, he put it back on the table. Now the human stared at him with big eyes. In a Rownt, wide eyes would mean confusion. Sometimes it indicated a shrewd mind searching for information. Ondry wasn’t sure what it meant with this species.
Honestly, it was rather disconcerting looking at this human. When Ondry had traded a few trinkets with Imshee, nothing in their appearance seemed familiar. His mother had traded shrewdly with those aliens while Ondry had been so young that he’d still clung to Asdria’s pants, but even barely out of the egg, Ondry had never forgotten he was dealing with aliens. The lack of similarity allowed him to search an Imshee face without seeing any reflection of his own. But the human looked like a very young, very pale, and very angry Rownt. The protruding lips were a large part of that.
Still discomforted by the nearness of the human, Ondry turned to the goods. The smaller containers would make nice vessels for spices or perhaps Hyst could use a few as casings for his electronic devices. It was a larger risk than the ceramics, but it could potentially be a larger profit.
Ondry fingered the tokens in his bag without pulling them out, watching as the human stood with one foot bouncing up and down. If the Grandmothers said this was a full-grown human, Ondry would not argue. However, this trader did not present himself as an adult. Finally, Ondry pulled out three tokens for gasha berries, one token for da nuts, and one token for raw ore.
The human picked up each token and compared it to the images on his handheld recording device. He quickly pushed the tokens for gasha berries back toward Ondry, and the ceramics trader gave a little trill. Nice. The trader was distressed for Ondry. Ondry showed the trader his fang. Meanwhile, the human seemed to miss the entire exchange. He put the token for da nuts down in the trading spot and fingered the token for ore for a long time. Either he trusted Ondry enough to signal his real intentions or he was a young fool revealing too much of his thought process. Finally, the human put the ore token down in the trade spot and removed two-thirds of the brass containers by pushing them to one side.
The ceramics trader gave another short trill. Ondry flipped his tail in that direction. If the man wanted to start something, Ondry would be more than happy to engage. Perhaps the other realized the depth of Ondry’s annoyance because he retreated to the far side of his table.
Then Ondry focused on the trade in front of him. He silently swapped out tokens for tuthaha, which the human rejected, and an artisan’s reialet, which the human accepted. The human pushed brass containers this way and that depending on what Ondry had on the table. Eventually they settled in the middle, although Ondry was the first to say he had bested the man significantly.
In return for one reialet with sharpened metal edges, two shares of da nuts, two shares of raw ore, and a half-dozen tokens for playsa root, Ondry had secured every container except the largest. That was fine. The largest was a piece so ostentatious it had no place outside a temple. Ondry quickly finished the formalities, carefully offering the human all the social graces required, even if the human was not aware of them. The human imitated him precisely so that he gave Ondry an identical bow—one that implied a superior speaking to one much younger.
The trader selling pottery gave another trill. Again, Ondry flashed a tooth. This time the human looked from one to the other, clearly trying to understand their interaction.
Ondry turned to leave, a number of the brass containers in hand. He had just stepped off the plaza platform when he realized the human had followed. Ondry had traded with another human once, but that one had definitely not sought additional interaction. He had cringed back, looking more like a prey animal than a trading partner. This one had more strength to him. Ondry stopped and looked at the human, waiting.
“You aren’t able to carry much me purchased,” the human said, mangling the pronoun. Ondry was wondering if the human was insulting his strength, although given his size that seemed unlikely.
“I shall return later,” Ondry said.
“Could carry me container, help. I am Liam, trader of the human base.”
Ondry gave a small and incomplete bow. “I am Ye-Ondry of the line of Chal, graduate of the Brarownt Academy and holder of a certificate of excellence from a Grandmother,” he introduced himself. For a Rownt of less than two hundred years, it was an accomplished title. Ondry had even been chosen by three women who had pulled his tail and claimed his seed, although he would not be so crass as to introduce himself with that fact. That was an honor to slip into conversation later, and only with those traders with whom he had good relations. Considering his young age, it could inspire jealousy in those who did not understand how hard Ondry had worked to deserve such an honor.
“I hope next time to force you into a trade that leaves you with no meal to eat,” Liam said, his words so stilted and his dialect so old fashioned that Ondry suspected he had memorized the common insult out of a scroll.
“I suspect I have already done as much to you already,” Ondry said. It would be cruel to refuse to trade insults with this young one. Ondry was young enough to know what it felt like to be excluded by one’s elders. He had left his mother’s side when he was so young that most of his age mates still practiced their skills by trading vegetables or metalsmithing scraps from a parent’s forge. Ondry did not want to imply that this Liam, trader of the human base, needed coddling like a child.
“I fail trade brass twelve days. Me not one tonight on table no meat,” Liam shot right back, his face shifting so his cheeks were pushed up and his eyes angled slightly. He appeared amused, although the expression was odd on his alien face.
Ondry felt the familiar warmth of traded insults. It was the universal language of traders. “Perhaps you do not know where to sell your goods. You stand in the rain and offer people water.”
Liam made a strange sound with air rushing out his mouth as he made a series of little noises that did not seem to have enough syllables to be words. “Maybe you right,” he agreed, his eyes angled up in fondness.
Ondry was caught off guard. He had not expected Liam to embrace his own youth or foolishness.
“But tomorrow he trades playsa and not sits with brass undesirables,” Liam finished.
For a creature who could not speak Rownt well, Liam communicated quite effectively, Ondry thought. And it was certainly true that Liam’s position was improved. Humans did not have free access to the planet, so Liam could not show up at Hyst’s home and offer him the goods. Perhaps this was a mutually beneficial trade. Certainly if Ondry wished to earn his nutu status, he had to begin to think in terms of long-term trades that profited everyone, and he had to develop a reputation for the same.
“Go get your container, young one. Help me carry these to the warehouse.”
Liam’s lips pulled tight and thinned out so they almost looked normal. Almost. Liam didn’t even complain about being called young. He simply gave a deep nod and then ran back into the plaza to gather up the other goods.
The pottery trader came outside and leaned against one of the trellises. “He is not like the other humans.”
“No,” Ondry agreed. “He is not.”
He was something more interesting, and Ondry was curious just what he might be hiding under all that atrocious grammar.