Chapter 2
The trade representatives from Faliska were two dark-skinned men with almost-identical features – their sharp noses and narrow chins could have been cut from the same template – but they were distinguished easily by the years which separated them. They both had silky black hair pulled back into long ponytails, but the older man’s head was striped with grey.
“My name is Srakanit,” the older man said. “And this my son, Sha’on. He is speaking for me in all things, when necessary.”
“Anna. I lead the Charanthe delegation.” She offered her hand; Srakanit hesitated before stepping forwards to clasp her fingers in both hands.
“Ah, differing customs,” he laughed. “I am forgetting my Imperial manners. I am sorry, it has been some years.”
“You’ve been to the Empire?” Eleanor asked.
“Years ago, yes. You have a beautiful country.”
“Eleanor is our fish envoy,” Anna said. “Her husband, Daniel, represents us on weapons. Oliver is responsible for gold and minerals, I can advise you on medicines, and of course you’ll be most interested in Philip’s portfolio.”
“The most famous Charanthe cloth,” Sha’on said.
“Indeed,” Philip said. “And I also represent the Empire on wood, which is much less exciting but important nonetheless.”
“Srakanit is in control of Faliska’s imports,” Anna said, stumbling on the pronunciation of his name. “We’ll have some proper introductions now, and then tomorrow we can get into more detailed negotiations. Do you want to start us off, Philip?”
“I can do, although the reputation of Charanthe’s cloth rather speaks for itself.” He stroked the sleeve of his tunic as he spoke. “And of course, the court of Faliska is one of our most valued markets.”
They took their seats around the table and Eleanor’s attention drifted as Philip began to describe different methods of preparing cottons and linens, tanning leathers and dyeing silks, illustrating his words with samples of fine cloth which he spread across the table. By the time he’d moved on to extolling the benefits of building with planks from Charanthe’s tall and straight-growing trees she was thinking instead about the plans she and Daniel had made, in hushed tones over breakfast, for breaking into the Tarasanka embassy that night. So she was caught by surprise when Philip drew to the end of his speech and Anna requested that she introduce her fishing portfolio next.
“Well, as Anna told you, I’m Charanthe’s fish envoy,” she began, trying to remember why she’d ever thought this was a good idea. “I appreciate this is a new proposal, and maybe you think I’m mad. You have your own fishermen, and maybe you think you have more than enough fish from the seas here.”
The two Falisanka representatives observed her in silence, and she found it impossible to read any reaction from their expressions. Daniel, on the other hand, was struggling to suppress his amusement, and she had to look away from him quickly before she lost her composure.
“I think, given the chance, the people of Faliska might enjoy a more varied diet,” she continued. “I took a walk down to the harbour before breakfast, and while your fishing boats were bringing in heavy loads, each fish was only a few inches long. Are they fully grown?”
“The little silver ones?” Sha’on asked.
“Yes.”
“They come to about this big.” He stretched his thumb and forefinger apart to show her.
“At home we’d throw those back as babies. Imagine what Faliska’s finest chefs could do with a fish the length of your arm.”
Srakanit nodded. “This would be interesting the king. He thinking always to his banquets.”
“The waters around the Imperial archipelago are stocked with such a wide variety that you could only dream of,” Eleanor said. “And each has a subtly different flavour that I can hardly describe to you, except to assure you that they’re all delicious.”
“But how you be bringing fishes across the oceans?” Srakanit asked. “In this hot place it will to rotting, no?”
“We preserve fish with salt and smoke for long voyages of our own, so that would be our first suggestion. Dried fish can be packed in crates like any other commodity.”
She’d brought samples – what little there was left from the supplies of their own voyage – and handed a plate around for the men to try. Sha’on’s lips puckered with the high quantity of salt, and he reached for a mouthful of water, but he was too polite to refuse when the plate came round again.
“There are some other approaches we could try, if my proposition interests you,” Eleanor went on. “It seems possible we could fill a hull with water instead of the usual ballast, and create a tank that could sustain live fish for long enough to cross the ocean, or perhaps we could tow a full net behind the ship to keep them alive that way. We won’t know until we experiment.”
“Let’s not get waylaid by too many practicalities today,” Anna said. “This is a time for introductions. Eleanor, is there anything else?”
“No, I think that’s enough for now,” Eleanor said, relieved to have an excuse to stop talking.
She listened with some interest as Oliver presented an overview of Charanthe’s current mining endeavours, along with the Empire’s hope that further mineral deposits would be found in the southern mountains. Next Anna spoke briefly about the remedies she was offering, sounding like the most boring apothecary lesson as she described the healing properties of the archipelago’s native plants, and then it was time for Daniel to take his turn.
He turned to Srakanit. “Do you carry a knife?”
“Naturally.”
“Is it a good knife?”
The trader curled his fingers around the rope-wrapped handle at his waist and pulled it from its sheath, laying it flat upon the table: an iron dagger with a slight curve to the blade, and a deep cannelure. “It may looking old, but this was made for my grandfather by the royal armourer, and the edge is sharp.”
Daniel reached across and pressed his thumb to the blade. “It may suffice,” he said, “but it lacks artistry.”
He’d brought a small selection of his own knives, wrapped inside a roll of leather which he now opened out upon the table. Each was a fine example of Harold’s craftsmanship, and the inlaid amber and obsidian crystals of Daniel’s graduation design sparkled in the sunlight.
“Indeed, I doubt you could find a keener blade than one wrought by a master weaponsmith of the Empire.”
Daniel reached across to the fruit bowl and picked out two identical, wax-skinned fruits. Setting one of them beside Srakanit’s knife, he threw the other into the air, and as it fell again he sliced it neatly through the middle with one quick swipe of his favourite dagger. Eleanor picked up the half that rolled towards her and sucked on the soft inner flesh; it was sugary but had a bitter aftertaste that she didn’t much care for.
“I should like to see your trusty blade in action,” Daniel said, pushing both knife and fruit towards Srakanit’s hands.
“I am lacking your skill,” Srakanit said, hefting the fruit cautiously in his hand. “My son will trying.”
Sha’on stood up and took the old knife from his father, but his attempt to recreate Daniel’s stunt left the fruit bouncing away with only a chip taken out of the rind.
Daniel wiped the fruit acid from his own blade, slid it back between its leather straps, and rolled the bundle closed again.
“I am not at liberty to discuss the secret methods of our most accomplished craftsmen,” he said as he tied the leather thongs to secure the roll. “Yet I am sure you see the value of our offer. No doubt your king will wish to hear more.”
“Well, if everyone’s happy with these introductions, we’ll resume tomorrow,” Anna said, getting to her feet. The others followed suit. “I’m sure we’ve given our hosts plenty to think about.”
Sha’on caught Eleanor’s arm as she was about to leave the room.
“I would like to talking more with you about the fishes,” he said. “If you have
time?”
“Oh.” She tried to hide her surprise. “Of course.”
“I am interesting in your ideas. My father is always speaking well of Charanthe food, and sometimes I am eating here, in the embassy – it is good.”
“Thank you.”
“Will you walk with me?” he asked. “The market is closed for the afternoon, but my friend brings a cart there. I would like if you come visiting him with me.”
“Okay.” She glanced across at Daniel but he was engrossed in conversation with Anna.
Sha’on led her into the backstreets behind the embassy, and they walked for about a mile through winding lanes before he stepped into a narrow alleyway and rapped on the door to his left.
An old woman came to the door, and Sha’on said something to her that Eleanor couldn’t understand. She disappeared back inside, leaving them on the doorstep, and a short while later a young man came running out and pulled Sha’on into a tight embrace. They exchanged a few words in Falisanka, then Sha’on turned him to face Eleanor.
“This is Bel,” he said. “He is working on the market every morning, selling fruits from his parents’ land.”
“Nice to meet you,” Eleanor said, wondering why Sha’on had brought her here, and why she’d agreed to come. This bore little enough relevance to the role she was pretending to – and was of even less interest to her in reality.
“Nice to meet you,” Bel echoed. “You are here trading for Charanthe, yes?”
“I’m the fish envoy.”
“I am thinking, you should not be limiting yourself to fishes,” Sha’on said. “What else good foods could come from Charanthe? You have many plants which will never grow here.”
“That’s really not my area of expertise.”
“Maybe not, but you are interesting in making new areas of trade – like the fishes. You are the right person to think about this.”
Eleanor shook her head. “You should talk to Anna.”
Sha’on turned and gripped her by both shoulders, and it was all she could do to suppress her well-trained reflexes and convince herself she didn’t need to fight her way free. “My father has meeting with Charanthe trades delegations over many years, and nothing ever changes. You are different.”
“Because I’m talking about fish?”
“Because you talking at all.” There was an edge of excitement to his voice that caught Eleanor’s attention. “And you thinking new thoughts. Usually, the Empire is setting a price, and we buying what we can afford, and that is the end.”
“But I don’t have the authority to start up discussions in new areas. You really need to speak to Anna.”
“You see my shop?” Bel asked. “I will to showing you.”
He beckoned her to follow him to the far end of the alley, where it opened up into a small yard. A wooden cart, draped with a heavy canvas cover, was parked against the wall.
“Just listen me,” Sha’on said. “If you are agreeing in my ideas, you can talking to Anna.”
She couldn’t fault his logic. “Okay.”
Bel pulled the cover from his cart to show the variety of his produce, which amounted to a dozen different colours and textures of fruit. There were a few sorry examples of the wax-skinned kind that Daniel had used for his demonstration, and none of the other varieties looked much more appealing to Eleanor’s eye.
“Here is everything growing in Faliska,” he said, waving his hand towards the stall.
“And do you sell a lot?” Eleanor asked, struggling to think of a more intelligent question.
“The king is taking first fruits,” he said. “And the rest is mine for selling. People is buying everything we growing. Tomorrow, all will be gone.”
“You see?” Sha’on said. “You could bringing fruit from Charanthe, different kinds, and selling here. And vegetables, no? Potatoes. Is much easier transporting than fish, and more rare.”
“I’ll suggest it to Anna,” she said, nodding and wishing she’d thought of being a fruit and vegetable envoy instead. It would, indeed, have been a much easier concept to sell.
Bel launched himself at her and for a moment she thought she was under attack, but he simply wrapped his arms around her and hugged her.
“Thank you,” he said as he stepped away.
Eleanor turned to Sha’on. “We should get back to the embassy,” she said. “They’ll be wondering where I am.”
Revolution (Chronicles of Charanthe #2) Page 4