I'm going to make lots of money and Papa and Mama’ll have their choices again. Lady Goddess hear me, I swear. I going to be good at both merchant and the other. I see already they don't—we don't like being called thieves. I'm going to be the best.
Chapter Ten
He had his head turned away. Megan sneaked her hand toward the pouch hanging on his belt. He coughed and she froze. Careful, she thought. When he bent his head to his book and started reading again, she risked moving. Her arm was shaking a little, but she made it be still. I can't get caught. The pouch looked heavy and she wondered if it had silver in it. She couldn't just cut it and run because she didn't have a razor, and would have to empty it without him noticing. The edge of the pouch was rough against her finger, some of the leather had gotten wet… I've got it, it's opening just a bit, tease it open a bit more—
"Hey!" He yelled and grabbed her by the wrist. She pulled back but he had her. She shoved a knuckle into the spot under his thumb, yanked her hand free and ducked under the table, out the other side.
"Well, Megan," Gospozhyn Yarishk said, shaking his hand. "You might have gotten away, but you missed the pouch."
She hung her head. "Yes, Gospozhyn."
"Good enough though. Nal-Gospozhyn Olynkova has you for accounting and history next?"
"Yes, Gospozhyn." Megan petted Sashi instead of looking at her master, and the dog wagged her tail and slopped her tongue all over Megan's hand. I wish I'd been more careful.
"Go on then." He picked up the ledger-book again and dug the inkwell from behind a kahfe cup and out from under Megan's scarf that she'd left on his desk when she arrived for her lesson. "Oh, and Megan—" He sniffed and blew his nose into his handkerchief.
"Yes, Gospozhyn?" Megan had gathered up her wax-board and fidgeted from foot to foot, impatiently. If he didn't let her go, she'd be late.
"Don't depend on your size and quickness too much. Sometime you'll be in a place where you can't run or hide.
"Of course, Gospozhyn." She closed the door as he blew his nose again. He always got grumpy when he got a cold, she thought. Almost everyone had caught something because the weather was so wet; the days when even the wind shivered. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve as she trotted down the hall.
At first, she'd kept getting lost because the River Guild's hall was connected with the Other Guild that was spread throughout the northern slope of the City. She had to go through a couple of doors in the mountain tunnels, behind the bakery oven—that was good on a day like this, warming up the tunnel—then past the Tanner's Apprentice Hall. She could always hear somebody through that wall. They're boors, she thought.
Then up a flight of stairs and through the next door that lead into the Minor Merchant's Guild counting house.
I'm only an apprentice now, but that won't be for long, Megan thought. She'd be a Journeyman proper, then a Yolculvik, then a Nal-Gospozhyn, then Gospozhyn. In Enchian one had to specify male or female for anything above "apprentice." Megan snorted. In Tor Ench, the Masters of guild were all male. They thought that women had to be hidden away in femkas in the back rooms of their husband's houses. Megan thought that the Zak idea of Gospozhyn was much better.
The back tunnels were stuffy and plain because, while the River Guild showed off its treasures in its halls, you couldn't really show a counting house's things.
It looked and smelled like a counting house: dull. But it was fascinating because you could keep track of where all the interesting things were.
Columns and rows of numbers were a lot simpler than people because they would do what you made them. Kids can't tell anybody to do anything except the littler kids and that's not fair. Megan realized that other things ruled adults, and that wasn't fair either, but if you were a grownup with lots of money no one would boss you around. I'm going to be rich and Mama and Papa and Rilla and me are going to be comfortable and nobody's going to tell us what to do ever again if we don't want to listen. And maybe Serkai too, Megan thought, as she ran up to the third floor. Under her soft boots the stairs were worn grey stone, with smooth hollows to the right and left and the lip of each step worn round.
Megan touched the earring Serkai had given her, with a bit of both their hair knotted together. He'd kissed her this morning and promised to marry her when they were both grown up and he was a great warrior to protect her rich ships and they'd be happy. It was possible that Ivar'd be part of their wedding if he found a girl or another boy, and they'd wed as a quad. Serkai had just been taken on by the DragonGuard as a squire. As far as Megan knew, his parents had sold their house to pay his way in, but he would earn enough to buy it back, soon, if he stuck it out. He'd given her the earring for her tenth birthday today.
Mama and Papa had said she was to have a treat today, and there was usually sausage in the soup again.
She knocked on the door, breathing hard. "Ave," called an irritable voice from inside.
Nal-Gospozhyn Olynkova was just a little taller than Ness and had black straight hair like her, but her face was rounder than most Zak, in fact most of the Masters of the River Guild and the other small Guilds allied with it didn't look as purely Zak as most others. I think that's because our Gospoznyn aren't as snotty as in other Guilds.
Today she wore a bright yellow Aeniri-style vest over a red wool shirt, and her pants were plain black felt. Her slippers were curl-toed, embroidered in red and yellow. On her wrists she wore heavy silver bracelets and finger-chains with red or yellow stones at each knuckle. Since she usually wore dark blue and black and never wore finger-chains, it must be a very important party she was going to.
"Megan, come in, shut the door. You're a little late, but I expect it was because of Yarishk." Without waiting for Megan to answer, she went on. "Ts not your fault. We can't waste much time then, though. History first."
Megan was used to her Nal-Gospozhyn's abrupt manners and already had her waxboard open. Olynkova always rushed on without letting the person she was talking to answer. That wasn't so good for a merchant, Megan thought, but she was a higher rank so she must know what she was doing.
"You were to read the fifth chapter of Social History and the Enchian version of Merchants and Thieves." She rubbed her hands together, rings chiming, unused to the pinch and scrape of the finger ornaments. "Recite, then."
"Nal-Gospozhyn Olynkova, the Social History states that the rumors of the Thieves Guild began about twelve hundred years ago during the years of Holiness and Corruption. Zakrof recounts the quote 'apocryphal creation story of a thieves society' unquote, in the middle of chapter five."
Olynkova held up a hand to stop her. "Don't just quote it word for word, child, I know you've read it. Summarize in your own words."
Megan sat and thought for a moment. "There was a priest who thought that the poor in the City and in the Zak Empire weren't being looked after, so she set up the Guild so that smart kids could get out and so that people who should be helping the poor were made to… by people stealing from them."
"What was her rationale—her reasoning?"
"Ummm. I think… I think she thought if there were a cheaper way to teach people a trade, 'cause the Guilds were stronger then and were charging more, more people could be helped. Enlightened self-interest."
"Good enough."
They switched to the accounting books. Olynkova had given Megan an imaginary company to keep track of. Megan hated losing money and having to fire people.
Her papa had helped her make a couple of decisions but Nal-Gospozhyn said that was all right because even merchants could ask for advice. Problem is, she said, sometimes they could advise you wrongly.
Last Hand-of-days, Megan had taken a good risk, but today Nal-Gospozhyn said there were rumors of a storm over that part of the River and Megan might have lost ships or would have to pay for damage. Megan hadn't known there were so many ways to lose money and had already been bankrupt once.
Olnykova cut the lesson off early because of her dinner engagement at Kie
vir Anatoli's. Megan whistled to herself, understanding why Nal-Gospozhyn was so carefully dressed. He was almost as important as Kievir Mikail, controlling the fur trade.
Of the nine main Kievir, Mikail ranked first, but if all the others got together they could push out another Kievir. The only one no one could touch was the DragonLord, because he held the key and the code for the dam and catch basins, but even he wouldn't really want to make all nine angry. Most of the time, though, they spent fighting each other for position. Journeyman Varik said that political faction fighting was a Zak national sport.
Because Megan's family lived in the City, she went home for the day of rest. Sometimes she felt sorry for Yegor and Tikhiy, who had to stay in the Apprentice quarters because they were from out-city, but they liked it fine. They both said it was better than being at home, herding horses, mucking out stalls. At Chorniy Street, where Krasniy turned into Market, she had to stop and wait for the passage of another herd of cows. They were being driven into the Va Zalstva, the old arena, for the Zarizan's wedding feast; his gift to the whole City—real beef and fine white bread. Not a scrawny old hen or sausage with big chunks of gristle. The Va Zalstva was the only place inside the City walls to keep that many cows.
Yegor had said everyone should get mutton, too, but all the other apprentices sneered at him and called him a Thane. His use-name now was Lambchop or Mint-sauce, and he wished he hadn't opened his mouth.
They wouldn't decorate Market Street for the procession until after all the herds had been moved in and the street cleaned up. The Dragon's horses aren't going to have to step in cowshit. Megan stopped to scrape her boots on a curb stone. They don't care if we do.
Since the herds were moving through part of the Great Market, many people had moved their stalls into Reyeka Street, so it was more crowded and people almost stepped on each other's toes when they moved to let horse and donkey traffic by. It was so noisy Megan covered her ears with her hands going through the narrow bits that had between-house arches, where the haggling and shouting echoed under the full lines of washing. The Stairs were too busy to set any more booths on.
Megan ducked under Tinker's arm as he waved a pot under a potential customer's nose, and squeezed between two heavy-laden donkeys that idly twitched their ears at her.
The wedding procession would start at the Dragon'sNest, go all around the First Quarter by way of Kharoshya Street, Yekh Road and Na Yekh, where they'd stop to be blessed at the Lady's Shrine. They'd have to turn aside to stop at the Dark Lord's Temple but they would, lest He be offended. Then the procession would wind back the Va Zalstva where Ranion and Avritha would cut bread and meat for the City, and around to the Nest again. Then the pair would have to go up to the plateau to be married.
Megan had heard rumors that a priest of the Bear would be called from Brahvniki to do the ceremony because they'd be neutral. The Benaiat of Saekrberk, Zar Ivahn, would be there through a mind-speaker.
The wedding presents had started arriving, and they would be on display to the City for a whole Hand of days. Gospozhyn Yarishk had said there would be a lot of thief-sniffers around, whose talent was related to truth-telling, though fortunately rarer, among the guards.
Yarishk sometimes gave her the odd coin as spending money, so she bought a sticky-cake, though she shouldn't because it would spoil the dinner Mama and Papa would have for her. I just won't tell.
All of the newest apprentices in the River Guild were assigned the task of figuring out where all the wedding gifts came from. Shepilova complained about it, but Megan thought that it would be fun. She sat down and dangled her feet over the edge of the Reyeka bridge, watching drips of water fall down and go plunk in the puddles on the ice as she ate her cake. The loose tooth hurt but it was almost a good pain and she worried at the tooth with her tongue. When it fell out or she managed to wiggle it out, she'd wash it and give it to Mama to keep. She spit out a bit of walnut shell that had gotten baked into the cake.
Even more fun than just figuring out where everything came from would be figuring out how to steal something. That would take a Gospozhyn Rearranger to manage, though. I bet one of their presents would feed a family for a whole year.
Below, on the Middle Quarter bank there was an old fire still smoldering, wisps of smoke coiling up. There were only two or three houses burnt out so it hadn't been that bad a fire, probably because they were Middle Quarter enough to have thick fire walls. It was a good thing there wasn't a wind or it would have jumped the water. On the other side of the river it used to be Middle but was River Quarter now, with small wooden houses built between the big stone ones. When a fire took hold, there wasn't much anybody could do except try to keep it from spreading, if that.
The rain knocked down the smoke and most of the people who got burned out were back trying to build again, probably without paying the building fee, but there hadn't been timber brought in for sale because of the wedding. The Regent thought there were other things more important than letting River scum rebuild.
The fire reminded Megan of what was happening to Onya. There hadn't been someone with a Salamander's talent in the City for more than fifty years, Varik had said, because Salamanders tended to set themselves on fire and die when they manifested, if they weren't trained. Once trained, though, they could control fires.
If Onya doesn't kill herself, she might be one. The Guilded Manrauq have taken her in for testing. She was being kept very carefully and if she were a Salamander, then her family could afford to live in the First Quarter.
Varik had been teaching Megan the theories of manrauq and testing her to see if she were going to be powerful someday, when she became a woman. He had tried everything and finally said that maybe she'd have a little manrauq, but the signs weren't showing. He'd even taken her to a Power-Ferret, but couldn't find anything.
Megan had talked to Onya just before she went into the Hall of Light, and had cried over her accounting books that night. Yarishk had found her and reassured her that it was too soon to tell about her lack of manrauq. Later on she'd overheard him yelling at Varik for trying too soon because it might block her.
I don't care if I'm going to be a stinking red witch all my life; means III live longer.
Her mama had said that it wasn't as important as some Zak thought and that she probably won't be "deaf." Ness had said that she herself hadn't manifested until she was fourteen. I don't care. I'm going to be the best merchant there is, so manrauq doesn't matter.
Serkai was starting to send sparkles, like fire-flies, and thought it was a turkey kind of manrauq, but Megan thought it would be better than nothing. Shepilova had just round out that she could "pinch" from a couple of feet away, and everyone was miserable for a Hand until she got doused with buckets over doors and had her bed short-sheeted three times. There were other ways than manrauq to get back at people, as house master Zyatki Yarovych said.
It had been useful though, when Nar-Kievir Botek's son rode through in the Market Square. Megan and her friends had thought he was just a Prafetatla of the House because of the colors, but found out later that it was just himself. Megan, Serkai, Shepilova and Tikhiy were in his way and he'd taken his whip to them, calling them gutter-trash and so on. Shepilova "pinched" his horse, and it bolted straight through a cheese-seller's stall and then bucked him off in a garbage pile.
They'd all had a good laugh about that after, though Tikhiy had to have a whip cut on her head looked at. Her hair would cover it mostly, except the tail end that curled around to her cheek, under her right eye; she scarred easily.
Megan licked her fingers and rubbed them together, looking at the coiling fingers of smoke from the ruin. I'm glad it wasn't summer. Everything was so dry then that the whole City could bum. In spring the rain wet everything down. I'm glad that I wasn't alive to see the Great Fire the Paladium Dragon year when Papa was sixteen.
Fires were like monsters sneaking around, licking houses down. It smelled bad; like wood and wool and hair and meat. Like when their
house burned, ages and ages ago. She didn't remember much, except the smell and that horses scream like people.
She got up and threw a pebble into the river for luck, sniffed, and wiped her nose on her sleeve again. She shouldn't have been sitting on the stone because her pants were soaked through.
The drains were plugged here, because somebody shouted down, "Pot!" from four floors up, and everyone hid under the overhangs so as not to get splashed. Phew, somebody has the shits. Mama would say diarrhoea because that's more polite. Arvi'd say 'the shits' too, but then he's going to be a blacksmith so he doesn't have to watch his tongue as much.
The Apprentice Hall of the River Guild was near the Main Hall, down the street, on the Middle Quarter side. The apprentice rooms were on the second floor, with four wallbeds per room and a small window, all paneled in dark wood. Megan fluffed her pillow and smiled at the scent of clean linen and feathers.
The gargoyles carved out of chestnut burls along the wooden stairs and the gallery had made her nervous at first, but now they were old friends.
"Megan!" Tikhiy called into the 'prentice rooms where she was making her bed. "It's your sweet boy!" Megan ran out and leaned over the gallery rail. Tikhiy was still standing downstairs by Master Zyatki's office, looking up, so Megan dropped the pillow she was holding on her yelling, "He's just a good friend!" Tikhiy caught the pillow and tried to throw it back, but it fell short and hit Serk in the head.
"Hey!" he sputtered, trying to smooth his hair with one hand, the pillow in the other, while Tikhiy giggled. She was always making gooey eyes at Serk and Ivar when they came to visit.
"what's the matter, Tikhiy? Manifesting?" Master Zyatki stuck his head out of his study and was looking at them that way, that meant they were all being too stupid mention. From where she stood, Megan could see Serkai blush. He's been doing that a lot lately, she thought.
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