Glasswrights' Apprentice (14 page)

Narda shrugged elaborately. “
If
it isn't alloyed. Something like that … you couldn't buy more than … a gill of ale.”

Rani swallowed her smile - Narda may have begun the bidding low, but the merchant had been intrigued enough to make the first offer. “A gill, mistress! You must have misspoken! This coin will certainly buy you a gill of ale - every day for the rest of your life.”

“How dare you curse me! Limiting my life to a few weeks - that is all your little coin will ever add up to.”

“Alas, fair mistress, you misunderstand. I did not mean that your days are numbered. Perhaps I should have said this coin would buy a gill for each of the Thousand Gods to drink every day for a week. I would gladly hand those riches to you, my mistress, my mentor, my guide in the City's marketplace.”

Narda was not invulnerable to the merchant ploys she used every day, and Rani watched the woman preen with pleasure at the thought of her power in the market hierarchy - power nourished by gallons of ale. Rani rushed in to close the deal. “Come now, Mistress - you must already be warm this morning, and heat breeds thirst. Let me give you my coin, and I'll stay here to mind the stall. I'll clean up that spill there,” Rani nodded to the runny egg, “and I'll sell the last of your wares. We can go to the Council this evening, and you can tell them I've served my time.” Rani set the coin on the edge of the stall, purposely turning it so that the sun glinted off the metal.

“You drive a hard bargain, my little eggcup!”

“Only because you've taught me so well, Mistress.”

“Very well, then.” Narda snatched the coin, hiding it from prying eyes. “Done.”

Rani should have felt joy at bargaining for her release. She should have felt a flush of victory at beating Narda at her own game. She should have felt giddy at her success. Instead, she watched her treasure disappear into the old egg-woman's fist, and she resisted the urge to cry out, to beg for the return of Bardo's gift.

Before Rani could forfeit her advantage, one of the forgotten Council watchers stepped forward, a bemused smile on her face. “I take it, Narda, you no longer wish to invoke the Council's power against this one?”

For just an instant, Rani read the threat of betrayal in the egg-woman's eyes, but then the danger evaporated like a mist. “Nay, Marni. Thank the Council for keeping watch. I guess my little helper was looking out for me after all. I should not have gone to Borin so soon.”

Marni looked steadily at the old egg woman. “Come to the Council at the end of the day, as you were instructed in the first place. Borin will pass his final judgment then.”

“Aye, we'll be there,” Narda nodded.

Marni scrutinized Rani for a long moment, and the erstwhile apprentice squirmed under the gaze. She wondered just how much the Councillor knew, just how long Rani had been tracked by the watchers. Had one of Borin's people followed her to Morada's secret meeting?

Rani quickly cast aside the thought. Certainly, if the Council knew that they had Tuvashanoran's murderer, or an accomplice to that evil-doer, anywhere near their grasp, they would have summoned Shanoranvilli's guards already.

Rani realized Narda was delivering her last words of chiding instruction, and the apprentice nodded meekly before the egg-woman disappeared into the crowds, leaving Rani to make the rest of the day's sales. Clicking her tongue in disgust, the girl saw that Narda had not even bothered to lay out the eggs in an attractive pattern. How could she expect to sell her goods if she did not take the most basic steps to attract customers? The stand truly would go downhill after today's obligations. Narda had good reason to fear Rani's release.

Moving the smooth eggs into position to please her customers, Rani ruminated on the lessons she had learned outside the market. Morada certainly was involved in a larger plot - a plot that was intertwined with at least one nobleman. Rani squelched a shudder in the bright noon-day glare as she recalled Lardindolian's blue eyes, the dagger behind the noble's gaze that Morada had apparently never seen, or seeing, had not heeded.

Frightened even in the Market's bright safety, Rani pushed her thoughts away from the icy nobleman. Instead, she thought of the mark she had seen on Morada's arm, the strange tattoo the Instructor had tried to keep covered. Four writhing snakes, twined into one. How could Rani have forgotten Bardo's arm? More importantly, why had Morada worn the same tattoo as Bardo?

Rani sighed, paradoxically wishing that Bardo was near, purposely setting aside her fear and anger. She loved Bardo. He had always protected her. She wanted him beside her.

“Such a sigh, 'n' from one so small! I dinna think ye were gonna get out o' that un, mate.”

“Mair.”

“Aye, Rai. Quick thinkin' that, givin' her yer only coin i' th' world.”

“How do you know what coins I've got?”

“Oh, I know, Rai, I know.” For all the snaggled smile Mair spared, Rani's heart pounded at the thought of Touched hands - Rabe's jealous, creeping hands - prowling through her belongings while she slept, all unawares.

“What else was I going to do?” Rani demanded. “I couldn't go back to the Council to ask
their
mercy.”

“Nay,” Mair answered seriously, “Ye took th' only course ye could. We won't 'old that against ye.”

“‘Hold it against' - Who says you get to judge me at all?” Rani's misgivings heated her words.

“The Thousand Gods say, merchant girl, 'n' dinna fergit it. Each o' us 'as our place i' th' City, 'n' we Touched aren't about t' fergit ours. It's like th' Old One said, ‘Mind yer caste.'”

“How could you know that?” Rani squeaked, recoiling as Mair's fingers echoed the skeletal Touched fingers on her cheek. “If you were close enough to hear that, why didn't you help me?”

“Who says I 'eard anything? I know what I know, Rai, but I'll ne'er tell one o' yer sort where I learned it.”

Mair's smirk made Rani's blood boil, and the apprentice stepped up to the trestle, longing to take out her frustration on the Touched girl. Rani glanced around for the loyal troop of children certainly secreted among the nearby stands, but she saw none of Mair's allies. “You followed me!”

Mair caught Rani's fists before she could do something she'd regret. “I promise ye this, Rai. I dinna follow ye.”

“Rabe, then. You sent him to do your evil work.”

“Rabe was nowhere near ye; I've better things fer my lieutenant t' trouble 'imself about. Believe me, Rai, I've got no cause t' lie t' ye. I've got no cause t' fight ye, either, but if ye force me, I'll beat ye black 'n' blue.”

Before Rani could respond, she was distracted by a commotion at the end of the market aisle. Shoppers exploded in a bevy of shrieks, and more than one market basket was dropped in the confusion. Even as Touched children swarmed from the stands to snatch up the spilled goods, Rani made out the trumpets that cleared the way for King Shanoranvilli's officials to move through the marketplace. She scarcely hesitated before clambering up on Narda's trestle table for a better view, balancing amid the few remaining eggs.

Her stomach turned at the sight that met her eyes, and she almost tumbled from her perch. Six men-at-arms forced their way through the crowd, bearing a wooden platform smeared with offal. As the soldiers pushed through the market, a cry went up among the merchants. Over-ripe melons smashed against the men's burden, but the soldiers bore the abuse stoically. A hastily crafted banner was slung across the litter, but Rani could not make out the crude letters.

“Cor!” Mair exclaimed, and the Touched leader startled beneath Rani's frozen hand. “Well, Rai, ye'll not be searchin' fer yer Instructor friend again!”

Rani forced her eyes to the litter, even as a wilted lettuce smashed into the guards' burden. Instructor Morada gazed out at the marketplace, agate rage already grown cloudy beneath a bloodied stripe of stark white hair. A brutal pike secured the disembodied head to the foul litter as Shanoranvilli's guard exhibited their evidence of the King's Justice. The soldiers passed in front of the egg-stand, and Rani could at last make out the words on the befouled banner: DEATH TO ALL TRAITORS.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

 

“And do you have any further words to speak in your defense before we pass our judgment?”

Rani forced herself to take a calming breath, to remember all the phrases she had rehearsed so carefully during her fortnight in the marketplace. “I've tried my best, Your Grace, even when things were not easy or fair.” Unbidden, Morada's bloody face floated before her eyes, and she had to blink hard to drive away the vision of crimson-stained pepper-and-salt hair. Perhaps Rani had
not
actually tried her best; perhaps if she had put more effort into her work, she could have questioned Morada before the Instructor's death. Possibly, she could have learned more of the strange Brotherhood that the glasswright and the nobleman had discussed just before Morada was captured.

“And do you submit to our judgment, without reservation or contradiction?”

“I do, Your Grace.” Belatedly, Rani thought to kneel, easing herself onto the ragged brick floor, ignoring the pinching pain against her knees.

“Then by the power granted me by King Shanoranvilli, I pronounce your sentence served. You are free to walk among the people, with no stain of your former wrongdoing upon your brow.” Borin leaned back in his throne-like chair, and Rani struggled not to sigh with relief.

Borin's acceptance of her service was a mixed blessing. Of course, she was free again, to come and go as she desired. Nevertheless, she had nowhere in particular to go, nowhere that was certain to be safe, sheltered from prying eyes. With an uneasy sense of foreboding, Rani wondered if she might not have spent her four-sided coin more profitably than in securing Narda's acquiescence.

“Stand, Rani.” The Chief Councilor probably meant the command to be an honor, but Rani's unsettled mood made the order seem more like a threat. “It is rare that the Council finds a merchant with the care and respect you show for its rules. Your family should be proud of you.” Rani swallowed uneasily. It would not do for Borin to ask questions about her family. She realized that the Chief Councilor was waiting for some response, though, and she managed a brief curtsey. “I hope they are, Your Grace. I certainly hope they are.”

Before Borin could reply, there was a commotion at the edge of the room. Rani turned to find Borin's Council colleagues stepping aside, shuffling in vaguely-disguised dissatisfaction to allow a newcomer to enter the room. Only when the person stepped into the dim light did Rani realize that it was Mair.

Rani almost cried out her Touched friend's name, but she had no chance before Borin
registered his visitor. The Chief Councilor crossed the small room with the speed of a striking
snake. Rani could see his fingers dig into the meat of Mair's arm, and he hissed “What are you doing
here?”

Mair stood her ground. “My troops've learned a few tidbits, Yer Grace. Ye'll want t' know my secrets, I can assure ye. Ye'll want t' know them
now
.” Her tone was urgent, and Borin glanced back at Rani, the dim light reflecting off his bald pate.

“Very well,” the merchant scowled, and dragged the Touched girl outside the room.

Rani caught her breath, hoping to overhear some whisper of their conversation, but she could make out nothing. She sighed, thinking of Mair's bravery. Rani would never have dared to make demands of Borin in his own chamber, especially when the Chief Councilor was so clearly busy. These Touched folk.… They refused to live by the rules of the other castes.

Rani's speculation was cut off as Borin returned to the chamber. The man ran a hand over his skull and shot a glance at his fellow councilors who were waiting placidly.

“Rani, there
is
one more service you can provide, and it would further your reputation among all the merchants of this City.” Borin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for a difficult task. “This is an honor we would normally assign to one of our own, but we cannot overlook your loyal actions and your faithful words since joining our ranks.” Borin signaled to one of his minions. “Katrin, your roll of record.”

The summoned councilor looked up in surprise. “Borin,” she protested, “we do not owe our tithes until tomorrow, until Hern's feast day.”

“Do you think I've forgotten the calendar?”

“Of course not, but -” The woman shifted uneasily beneath Borin's incisive gaze. Other
councilors fidgeted, and Rani caught a muttered oath directed at Hern, god of merchants.

“But?” Borin pushed, and there was a sharpness to his voice that Rani had not heard before. “Are you challenging my leadership?”

“Of course not, Borin,” Katrin protested. “But what am I to think? A Touched brat comes in, interrupting the Council's business, and the next thing I know, you're ready to confer our highest honor on this little criminal!”

Before Rani could bristle, Borin exclaimed, “No! That's where you're wrong, Katrin. Rani Trader is no longer a criminal. She has served her sentence well and honorably. All taint of her past is removed by that service.”

“Still, Borin - ”

“Any further challenge, Katrin, you must take before the full Council. Are you willing to do that?”

For a long minute, Katrin stared at her leader. It occurred to Rani that perhaps Katrin had thought to claim the mysterious honor for herself. Before the first blossom of pity could open in Rani's chest, Katrin collapsed in a stiff, angry bow. “No, Borin. I'll follow your will.”

“Very good.” The bald man held out his palm, ignoring the sting as Katrin slapped a roll of parchment across his fingers. “Rani Trader. It is this Council's custom to offer tithes to the priesthood on our feast day - a sampling of all our wares to see our brother priests through the coming year. Tonight our offerings must be conveyed to the cathedral close, to the end of the Pilgrim trail. Will you serve as our ambassador to the priests, bearing all the merchants' gifts, good wishes, and prayers for the coming year?”