The Eyes of a Doll (The World of Shijuren Book 2) (17 page)

I had expected my eyes to adjust to the gloom of an interior room when we walked into Timoshenko’s workshop from the sunny morning. Instead, a miniature sun assaulted our eyes as we entered.

As my eyes reacted, I realized that the small sun was merely a large oil lamp set amongst mirrors that amplified and reflected its light. Immediately below the light, a table with various delicate tools sat before a tall man with lanky, blond hair balding on top and bound in a tail in the back.

He looked up, dropping a glass from one peering eye to rest on his chest where its cord held it.

“May I help you?”

I had brought my three most beautiful armrings, one partially inlaid with garnets, another inscribed with knotwork designs, and the third twisted and arranged with flashing amethysts on its ends. I held them out to him.

“I would like to know what you think of these.”

He set them on his table in the light. He replaced the glass into his eye with automatic movements. Leaning over the table he examined every inch of each.

“Cunning,” he muttered to himself. “Not particularly elaborate, but matches the northern style well. Could be more delicate, but the lines on the design were well done.”

He paused and glanced up to me. “Who did the cloisonné?”

“I don’t know. My lord gave that to me and I never asked where he got it. Someone from Middlemarch, I’d guess.”

“Middlemarch?”

“One of the Seven Kingdoms.”

He returned his attention to the armring for a while, mumbling as he looked.

“Why did your lord give this to you?”

“I killed four raiders who had gotten loose in a farmstead.”

He peered at me briefly. “Ah, yes, now I remember your barbarous traditions.”

He turned back to the rings, focusing on the amethysts. “Lovely amethysts. Svellheimish, I’d guess.”

I shrugged.

“You have no idea what you have here, do you?”

“Gifts of ring-givers.”

He sighed. “They probably had no real idea either.”

He got out a soft cloth, opened a small pot, dipped the cloth into the thick, white paste, and started polishing my rings.

“I presume you are seeking to sell these?”

“In a sense.”

He looked up from his polishing. “Please explain.”

“I don’t really want to sell these. As I said, they were given to me.”

He sniffed.

“Then why did you show them to me?”

“Are they valuable?”

“Reasonably. The gold feels like a truer alloy. The amethysts are very nice. The cloisonné and designs are not rudimentary and in some places well done, if not terribly complex. I would offer you… say… 450 dinars apiece.”

Even as an initial offer, the price was high enough to please me, and I had learned that the merchants in the Empire expected haggling.

“Let’s assume we negotiate a price that allows you to make two hundred dinars apiece when you sell the ring to someone who wears it. That would mean you would make something like six hundred if I sold you all three.”

“Your math is accurate, if we accepted your initial premise.”

I nodded. “So if you purchased them, you would earn a reasonable profit selling them.”

He nodded in return.

“Though I left the Seven Kingdoms years ago because I had no lord, I still have friends remaining there. I could arrange for you to have a constant supply of these rings to sell.”

“Hmmm.” After a moment he shook his head. “I could definitely sell three for a profit. I could sell twenty or twice that for a good profit. I’m not sure how many more I could see in Lezh. Few here wear armrings. They’re just not in fashion.”

“You know your market and with those numbers you must only sell locally. I have to admit, I’m surprised. I had heard you also sent your jewelry across the Empire and maybe even farther east.”

I reached out for my rings.

“I appreciate you looking at them. I’ll check with some other jewelsmiths that might be able to handle a larger quantity.”

He hesitated, his glass falling back to his chest.

“How many could you get?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Hundreds? Scores?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Sebastijan suggested that they might be valuable here in the Empire because they looked so different. I just decided to ask.”

He looked at me strangely. “Sebastijan is from Achrida.”

I nodded.

“Why are you here in Lezh?”

“This is where they’d get shipped to, I assume. They wouldn’t come to Achrida. At least not directly.”

He looked at me closely for a moment and then nodded.

“We do have ships coming from the Seven Kingdoms regularly here.”

“And even if I could arrange for hundreds, which I doubt, they don’t take up much space on a ship.”

He nodded. “Let me investigate my options. I’ll need to keep the rings.”

“I will come back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. There are other jewel merchants in Lezh. I came to you first because Sebastijan says you can be trusted.”

He looked at Sebastijan and back at me. “Then you should be willing to wait for more than a day.”

“I told him you were honest. That doesn’t mean you’re the only honest jewel merchant here.”

Timoshenko sighed.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you. Midday tomorrow, then.”

Sebastijan took a right turn out of Timoshenko’s building.

“Isn’t the Westering Winds to the left?”

He nodded.

“Where are we going then?”

“We’re going to visit Besnik. At least, we’re going to go by his caravansary.”

“I thought we were going to deal with Timoshenko and only threaten Besnik if we had to.”

“Hush, Sevener. I know you find threats distasteful. However, we have nothing much to do this afternoon. We can find where he works and learn as much as we can about him.”

I shook my head, but I could not argue his wisdom, though I remained tired and sore from the journey.

Lezh was uncompromisingly arranged as a shipping town. The Crownstreet curved up from the port area around a hill to the front gate, using the shortest route with the least grade as could be arranged. Warehouses and caravansaries ringed the docks, surrounded by inns of at best mild repute.

“We’re going to wander through the caravansaries. I think I know which one Besnik runs, but I want to make sure.”

Sebastijan had told me that longer blades were not uncommon in Lezh and that I should wear mine while we roamed the city. By the time we reached the caravansary district I felt positively underdressed, as many of the caravan guards roamed Lezh wearing all their armor and weapons. In my fatigue, I had left my scale draped over the table in my room.

Wagons filled the streets while many more sat in alleyways, some loaded and awaiting departure and others empty, awaiting packing. Foul-mouthed, gruff men and women with little patience and less time called the steps to that intricate dance.

“He’s down this street.” Sebastijan nudged me down one of the side streets that curved off from Crownstreet, each paralleling the shoreline. 

Wagons lined the left side of the road while teamsters guided their teams back and forth. The road seemed paved in horse manure, and the smell dominated our noses.

Another nudge told me which cursing man I needed to watch. White-bearded, with his head wrapped in the style of the eastern desert folk, he yelled less than most of caravaners, but he filled his yells with creative, flowing curses.

“How many sea turtles did your mother fuck to have a son so slow?”

The object of his words let the curse flow off his back and continued strapping crates marked with odd symbols onto a wagon that creaked with the weight. Tired horses lipped treats from a teamster’s hand while they waited. Two hauberk-wearing guards laughed raucously at some private joke.

Soon we had walked past Besnik’s to another caravansary, where the scene differed only in the details. We continued on that street, looping around and up to the base of the hill where the Heraclian Tower stretched upward many scores of feet.

“We’ll come back after supper to see the sunset. We’ll have to fight through the crowds, but it’ll be worth it.”

He was right. It was.

We returned to Timoshenko’s shop. This time we were prepared for the bright sun as we entered. At our arrival, he pointed at a small pile of unbleached linen cloth. Inside the cloth were my armrings.

“You can have those back.”

“Thank you.”

“And I can arrange for distribution of one hundred per month.”

“One hundred?”

“Depending upon price. Those like you showed me are costly enough that I could not afford so many. But I suspect what you showed me were the best you had and that most of the ones we’d trade would cost significantly less.”

I nodded and pulled out my most basic ring, gold with a wave pattern engraved upon it. “True. I’d guess most armrings would look more like this one.”

Timoshenko examined it as thoroughly as the others.

“I could not pay much more than 100 dinars apiece on these.”

“The actual price will be determined by the shippers.”

“They’ll sell to me? I’ll then resell at my price?”

I nodded. “And you’ll pay me thirty percent of what you pay the shippers.”

“Thirty percent? Are you mad? My wife would weep in front of the neighbors in shame at thirty percent. I couldn’t see more than five.”

I laughed because Sebastijan had told me exactly how this discussion would proceed. “We’re going to haggle and end up at twenty percent. We both know it. I understand you Imperials like the sport, but I don’t. Let’s agree to twenty right now, or I find another jewel factor.”

He glared at me. “I have half a mind to let you walk.”

I turned to leave.

“But I can accept twenty.”

“Excellent.”

I paused because Sebastijan had also told me what to do at this point. “One more thing.”

“What,” he eyed me suspiciously.

“I need to know how you’re shipping it eastward. At least to Anzhedonev.”

“What! Anzhedonev? You don’t need to know that. You’ll be paid by that point.”

“I need to know before going to my people and arranging the supply. They won’t ship without knowing.”

“Why the hell would they need to know?”

“Do you really need to know? You’re not handling the shipping yourself, are you? In fact, it would be best if I spoke to your shippers.”

He had no answer but stared at me for a while. I made to leave, but he forestalled me again.

“I need to ask. I can’t just confirm that right now. I can’t know until tomorrow. They might say no.”

“Tomorrow.” I shook my head. “This is taking a long time.”

“I can’t do faster, milord, I have to ask people who will ask people.”

I looked at Sebastijan, who shrugged. “It makes sense.”

I turned back to Timoshenko. “Fine. Tomorrow I’ll meet with your shippers, or at least their factors.”

He shook his head at my oddity. “If they agree, milord, if they agree.”

“Send word to me at the Westering Wind tonight.”

He sighed again and nodded.

Again, as we exited, Sebastijan led me to the right instead of returning straight to the Westering Winds.

“Do we need to visit Besnik again? Timoshenko seems likely to help us.”

“Yes, he does. Now we make arrangements in case he does.”

“What arrangements?”

Sebastijan sighed with a wry smile. “You are such a fool.”

“Be that as it may, why are we walking across Lezh?”

“We can go back, but you’ll be making a costly mistake.”

I stopped in the middle of the street and stared at him. He took two paces before noticing and turned around. Others on the street eddied around me with half-breathed curses at my idiocy.

“Trust me, Sevener.”

I had to trust him, so I shrugged and caught up, and we walked across Crownstreet to a district filled with family shops. We walked into a bright and cheery building that, unlike every other shop along that street, contained no goods.

“Sebastijan! Welcome, my lord, welcome! How my eyes have missed you. In what way can I humbly serve you?”

“You always say humbly like it means what you think it means.”

The woman who leaned back behind a table filled with rolled scrolls was short with broad shoulders. Her elaborate clothing fitted her exactly, and her hair rose in delicate braids. Jewels flashed in the light as her beringed fingers twisted a scroll closed.

“Oh dear, Sebastijan. You do know how to wound me.” Her smile belied the words and Sebastijan laughed.

“I’m sure we discover some way that I can provide recompense suitable to your humility.”

Her return laugh brightened the room even further. “In that case, what can I do for you?”

“Well, Pala, you can help my friend send a message.”

“A message?”

Sebastijan laughed at my confused question. “Yes. My Sevener friend wants to send a message to his homeland.”

“I do?”

Pala’s laughter tinkled lightly. “Your friend is lucky to have you to know his mind.”

I shrugged with a smile. “I suppose I am. Now I hope I can be luckier still for him to explain my mind to me.”

“Edward here needs to send to someone in the Seven Kingdoms to arrange to ship a hundred armrings to Timoshenko each month.”

“I do?”

Sebastijan nodded with a smile.

“I can do that easily for a small fee.”

“You want to actually set up the deal with Timoshenko?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why?”

“Did you add up the numbers?”

“Uh, no.”

“Let’s see, one hundred rings per month each earning about twenty dinars per month comes to something like two thousand dinars per month. Pala here will serve as your factor in Lezh. She’ll charge you twenty percent plus whatever expenses are incurred arranging the process of getting the rest to you. You’ll pay your factor in the Seven Kingdoms twenty percent plus his expenses. The maker of the rings will get his profit from selling the rings to the shipper, who’ll make his profit selling to Timoshenko. You’ll end up with something like eight hundred dinars per month after all the bribes and what not.”

My mouth dropped open.

“You’re awfully free with what I’ll charge, Sebastijan,” laughed Pala.

“Was I wrong?”

“No, you’re exactly correct, though of course the expenses will change from time to time.”

“You can close your mouth, Sevener.”

I did. “But…”

“Why do you think that Timoshenko is putting up with your demands? Because he stands to make a great deal of money. And so do you… if you give Pala here a message and a contact in the Seven Kingdoms.”