by Patty Jansen
It was strange. It was awkward. Here she was, directing the Mirani theatre, supposedly well-educated by Mirani standards, yet she knew nothing of the world beyond the borders, let alone about other worlds. She felt so inadequate and dumb. It was unlikely that he came here to show Mirani people how dumb they were, but right now, she felt like that. Not only that, he was giving everyone a lesson in How to be Mirani in the old, honour-based, traditional style, having been taught by a family now considered an enemy of the state.
That was sure to catch the council’s attention.
Not only that, employing him would get her more attention. There would be outrage. She could already hear the protests. Why do we have foreigners playing in the orchestra? Aren’t there enough competent musicians in our own town?
And yes, maybe there were, but no musicians that had ever offered their services, because playing in the theatre orchestra was not a very glamorous thing.
Everyone was looking at her, waiting for her to make a decision.
What to do?
Aleyo was looking at her with an intense expression. “Come on, Elli. Let him play.”
“Do you want him to?”
“Of course I do. Is there a problem?”
“Come.” Ellisandra grabbed the sleeve of Aleyo’s dress and guided her to the folds of curtains that made up the backstage area. She was aware that Vayra watched her.
“I’m thinking of what the council is going to say about foreigners playing in the orchestra,” she told Aleyo in a low voice.
“What are you talking about? He’s Mirani. Everyone can see that.”
“Have you seen his eyes? He’s not Mirani. He’s from Barresh, and he’s Aghyrian. I’m pretty sure he dyes his hair and tries to look Mirani. He’s pretty convincing, but no one will be fooled. The council is already keeping an eye on him. If we take him on, we’ll have trouble.”
“What ill can he do on his own, through the orchestra?” Aleyo spread her hands.
Ellisandra wanted to say Buy everyone’s favour and loyalty with really good pay and damn fine soup and a beautiful project but that would require her to talk about Nemedor Satarin’s order to spy on the foreigner and Aleyo might think that she was a spy for Nemedor Satarin in the way some people were recruited to give information about their friends that seemed harmless enough at the time, but came back to bite them later.
When she said nothing, Aleyo continued, “Look, I know one thing. If the music doesn’t improve, the trouble will be on us after the performance. Those two flute ladies are very nice and might have been competent musicians around the time I was born, but they are no longer. Let him play. We’re not doing anything political.”
“Guess not.”
So Vayra was allowed to stay. Ellisandra still felt uneasy about it. He was very nice and polite and she didn’t want him to come to any harm, and she could feel the dark forces move in the shadows. Someone would strike at him, and it might come through her contacts with him. He would not be prepared for it, and he would not have deserved it. Worse, her brothers might have something to do with it.
And she’d promised Asitho Bisumar that his daughter would not associate with undesirable characters and now there was one of those right inside the building. How long would it be before he found out?
For most of the afternoon, Ellisandra sat at her desk listening to the music that drifted up from downstairs. She thought it already sounded better. She hoped. Whenever she went to the door of the office and looked down into the hall, Vayra was either playing or talking to the ladies next to him. He seemed effortlessly popular, as if he’d been born to a high-profile life. He looked so incredibly Endri, down to the little mannerisms. Except for those eyes that kept looking up and meeting her.
So, he was saying that he’d been taught by the Andrahar family? If so, they hadn’t lost any of their Mirani habits.
Father used to talk a lot about the time of the great Mirani Traders, when the trifecta of Andrahar, Ilendar and Tussamar families ruled the Mirani chapter of the Trader Guild and when all the merchants flocked to that building every morning to get the best imported deals. These days, only the Tussamar Traders remained, and they had never been quite as successful as the other families. What would life in Miran be like if those families had never left? What would it be like if some of them came back?
Tolaki came to stand next to her. “He’s pretty amazing, isn’t he?”
Can you stop talking about how wonderful he is? “Yeah. Except I wish I knew what he was doing here. I hope we’re not about to be tricked into something or that he’s doing it for some reason of wanting to spy.”
“Do you always have to think the worst of people?”
“No, but . . .” Tolaki wouldn’t understand. Tolaki’s father and now her brother had never run into trouble in the council. They had never experienced the force of the men of power gathered against them like Father had. They had never been pushed aside and ignored. They had never had to watch their every step and re-evaluate every friendship. “I prefer to be careful. Be friendly, but don’t let anything slip about the council, or money, or the guards, or imports or politics—”
“That’s all right. I’m not interested in all that stuff anyway.” She giggled. “I think his hair is gorgeous. Do you think he’s taken? Oh, I forget that you shouldn’t take part in our ogling because my brother might not like it.”
Ellisandra had to stop herself rolling her eyes.
Sariandra called that she needed someone to check over her shopping list, and they spent the next while in the drawing room discussing fabrics.
“We can go to the markets tomorrow morning,” Ellisandra said, and then cringed because she’d forgotten that Sariandra was not supposed to go out without her father’s approval and that she had promised that she would stick to these ridiculous rules.
While they had been talking, it had become silent in the hall downstairs and when Ellisandra came out of the drawing room, the orchestra had packed up and gone home.
Aleyo was just walking out the door in the company of two musicians. Vayra was nowhere to be seen. Ellisandra had toyed with the notion to tell him clearly and unambiguously that by playing the “let’s see how Mirani I am” game, he put himself in the path of trouble. Whether it was jealous workers, an overzealous Citizen’s Group or something more sinister, there would be more thefts, maybe arson or intimidation. He’d hired guards, huh?
How could he make sure those guards didn’t become part of his troubles?
By paying them well, said a little voice in her head.
And it looked like he was doing just that.
She wondered . . .
Everyone in the upstairs office had now gone home, including Sariandra. She quickly slipped down the stairs and into the library. In the dark corner, she turned on the reader. It was so cold in the room that her breath steamed by the faint light from the screen.
She sat down clasping her hands together and blowing in them to keep them warm.
When the Accountkeepers’ financial system came up, she typed Ilendar and waited for the list of accounts to come up.
Earlier that day, a bunch of credits had been taken out of the account. The payment was to a business she recognised as an employment agent at the markets, for construction workers. Also, there was a separate payment for security, for as much as three tirans a day per person. Her eyes almost fell out when she saw that.
Was he trying to upset the labour market all by himself? Next thing it would be impossible to find workers for any less than two tirans a day and the theatre couldn’t afford that. No one could.
15
ELLISANDRA WENT home to find both her brothers at dinner. Well, that had to be a first this year. Sometimes she wondered if her brothers ever talked to each other, and then she would be surprised to find out that they did.
They sat at the table and whatever discussion they’d been having stopped the moment she came in. They greeted her with smiles. Jintho’s expression looked
uneasy. He might say that she was the worst liar in the world, but he couldn’t be far behind.
“Did I disturb anything?” That was starting to be the standard greeting when she met both of them together.
“No, we were just having a chat.” That chat was probably about her.
She sat down at the table in uncomfortable silence.
It was warm in the dining room, and Ellisandra’s cheeks glowed from the sudden change in temperature. “Not having any visitors tonight?”
Enzo gave her a sharp look. “Is there anything wrong with my visitors?”
“No, but you seem to have a lot of them recently, and it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you.”
“Not much has changed since last time. Is there anything we need to talk about?”
“Do we always need to talk about something?”
“Well, no, but . . .”
Another uncomfortable silence.
“You were talking about me.”
“Maybe.”
Jintho was looking at his plate. Oh, yes, he was such a bad liar.
“So, let me guess: you’re talking about me because Asitho Bisumar is on my tail for making sure his daughter only speaks to appropriate people, or because I have access to the Accountkeepers’ ledger.”
“Actually, we’re talking about you because apparently our stranger from next door came to the theatre.”
“The weather was bad, and he couldn’t work. He came to the theatre out of curiosity. He must have heard the orchestra, and they’re truly awful. He plays music, and he offered his services. There was also a break-in and people stole some of his materials.”
She stared at him but Enzo’s face remained impassive. Jintho continued fiddling with his plate.
“You didn’t have anything to do with that, didn’t you?”
“Sister, when are you ever going to listen?”
“Who should I listen to?”
“Your husband-to-be, for example. He told you to avoid this man, didn’t he?”
“He came to the theatre of his own accord. I can look after myself. If a stranger comes to the theatre to volunteer playing the flute, that doesn’t mean I’m in any kind of risk. Except the risk of a public lynching if the orchestra doesn’t improve. You haven’t answered my question. Did you or Raedon Tussamar have something to do with materials being stolen from next door?”
Enzo said, “I have no idea what Raedon Tussamar does in the times I don’t see him.”
“You’re deflecting the question. I’m asking about you. You were talking about scaring the visitor off. Did you steal from next door?”
“No.” He said it in a what-do-you-think-I-am? way, but she knew him. He often did that, and his behaviour and actual guilt were two entirely different things. “Why won’t you give me access to the Accountkeepers’ system?”
“Because I can’t.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“I could say the same of you. I don’t want to breach the Accountkeepers’ confidentiality and risk my position. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“We suspect this stranger is up to something.”
“Well, top marks for figuring that out!” She rolled her eyes.
“We still have no idea how he’s entered Miran.”
“The guards should be able to sort that out.”
“We don’t know why he’s here.”
“To rebuild the house. Look, maybe he’s gathering information about us, but what is he going to see in the theatre? He’s by himself, employs a lot of people locally, pays them really well, so all the businesses will see the benefits when workers have more to spend. He came to the theatre asking if he could play in the orchestra, for crying out loud. The orchestra is full of old ladies who are past their prime. What is he going to learn there that can possibly be harmful?”
“They gossip a lot.”
“Oh, come on, Enzo. Whatever he might be doing in Miran that’s going to harm us, playing in the orchestra is not it.”
He glared at her. She glared back.
“I’m also not sure how rebuilding a house classifies as an act of subversion. I’m as mystified about it as you are, but sabotaging him seems a bit childish.”
“What makes you think I’ve done that?”
“Maybe not you personally, but your Citizen’s Group. I don’t like Raedon Tussamar. No, I don’t know that he was responsible for the break-in, but this is starting to look suspiciously like that break-in at merchant Tamarin’s where Raedon was playing hard because the merchant was being stubborn with him. I don’t like it that you and Jaeron are involved with this.”
“She’s right,” Jintho said.
Enzo spread his hands and rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Oh, and what do you know about stubborn customers? The only thing you’ve ever done is loaf around, telling other people what is or isn’t moral to do. At least we protect our nation—”
There was a loud thumping on the ceiling and a muffled voice sounded through the floorboards.
“See what you’ve done now? You’ve woken Father.” Enzo picked up his cloak and made for the door.
Ellisandra said, “Brother.”
He stopped in the doorway.
“I really don’t like you and Jaeron being involved with this, and I’m serious. Do whatever you want, but don’t rope in Jintho or me. Don’t even try.”
He spread his hands, looked like he was going to say something and thought better of it, let out a deep sigh and left the room.
After the door had slammed behind him, and his footsteps had faded on the stairs, Riana judged it safe it sneak in with Ellisandra’s dinner.
Ellisandra said, “Can you go to see if Father wants anything or if he was just annoyed at us?”
“Darma went up. She said he complained about the noise. He said ‘I don’t live on top of a rowdy bar’.”
They all laughed. That was something Father had said for most of his life.
Riana left the room.
Jintho said, “I’m not sure if it was such a good idea to let this man play in the orchestra.”
“We talked about it in the committee and decided there was no harm. We really needed players and he was the only one who offered. He’s good. It was a coincidence.”
In fact, was it too much of a coincidence? Vayra seemed to know an awful lot and managed to turn up exactly at the right time.
And now she was starting to see things, because how in all of heaven’s name would he have known that the orchestra had a problem, and even if he had known in some way, why would he bother? What information could he gather that would be of interest to anyone outside Miran?
“He’s a spy,” Jintho said.
Ellisandra nodded. “Yes, likely, or probably.”
“If he listens to you, I would warn him that there might be further action.”
She gave him a sharp look. Was he telling her that he and Enzo had been talking about actions to take when she came into the room?
“I already planned to do that.”
“Good. If you speak to him tomorrow, tell him to get out of town as soon as he can.”
When she finished eating, Ellisandra went to Father’s room to wash him and tuck him in for the night.
“Ah, there you are. I thought you’d all abandoned me. I’ve seen no one all day.”
“Darma came up a while back.”
His dinner tray, too, stood on the table. He had eaten half of his soup and half a roll. “Do you want some more?”
“No. It’s too hard. I can’t chew this. It’s yesterday’s bread.”
“I’ll ask Riana to bring new bread.” It was probably hard because he’d left it to sit uncovered on the plate
“The girl with the fat arse doesn’t have any bread.”
“Father . . .”
“Well, she does have a fat arse. I hope Enzo keeps her under control because he doesn’t want her to run the house like my wife did.”
Oh, he was conf
used today. Enzo wasn’t going to marry Riana—Ellisandra still hadn’t found out who was the unfortunate girl—and Mother had never been bossy, unless he had somehow convinced himself that he had married Sariandra’s half-sister Mikandra, and that she had run out on him instead of her father. Some days it was really hard to track his thoughts.
As Ellisandra wheeled Father’s chair into the bathroom, she knew that whoever Enzo’s wife was going to be, she would never put up with Father’s behaviour. Jintho was right. He had been getting a lot worse. Part of her had secretly hoped that Enzo would hold off getting married until Father passed away. That was a terrible thought, besides being kindest on everyone concerned. She supposed her own wedding plans had gone ahead too far to annoy Tolaki by postponing the wedding.
So much still needed to be done, and Ellisandra had concentrated on the play. Whenever she thought of the wedding preparations, there was always some other thing that needed to be done more urgently.
The wedding preparations sucked the joy out of her.
Father, whose arms had once been strong but were now little more than skin-covered twigs, had taken great care to select a family and a man who would do the right thing for her.
Was it ungrateful and selfish to say that the whole wedding thing had her decidedly uninterested?
“I just want to see you happy,” Father had said when she asked him about advice on which of the three boys to choose.
Strangely enough, she had been happy with the prospect of getting married for a long time, at least until it looked like it was actually going to happen.
After finishing Father’s bath and putting him in bed, Ellisandra went to her room. Riana brought up some tea. It sounded like Enzo had gone out—and that worried her. What was he up to with those friends of his? If he got convicted for something illegal, he’d lose his council seat.
What was up with this change in Foundation Law?
In her room, she drew her chair close to the fire—why did Darma keep putting it back all the time?—set her tea on the table next to her and continued reading the book of Foundation Law. It was complicated and not very logical in setup. Newer laws and amendments had been interspersed with old ones.