razorsedge

by Lisanne Norman

  “Do you think you could get in to speak to this male again?” asked Tirak.

  Giyesh looked aslant at him, the smile returning. “Oh, I might be able to do that. Did find out he’d not one of the staff, he’s property. Owned by Lord Bradogan.”

  “I’ve heard they buy and sell their own folk,” nodded Tirak. “No one else would want to with their record of violence. Four of them there were, I found out today from Lord Sarak’s agent. Sold by the Valtegans. Seems these Sholans know a fair bit about the Valtegans, more than we do.” He drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “There’s a lot more going on than we thought. Move carefully, people. I don’t want them suspecting that we’re watching them.”

  “The Jalnians have started checking the locals at the gates,” said Mrowbay. “Making sure they’re wearing those green pendants.”

  “He wore one,” said Giyesh.

  “They’d automatically make him wear it,” said Mrowbay. “Doesn’t mean he’s susceptible to the sickness. Probably making sure he eats only Port food, too, same with the female. Be as bad for them as if one of us ran amok. Imagine the damage we’d do before they stopped us.”

  “The Solnian and her partner have arrived and are coming over, Captain,” said Sayuk quietly.

  “After we’ve eaten, see if you can reach that male again, Giyesh,” said Tirak. “I’ll try and get our new friends to come with us tonight, visit the Haven where this Tesha female works.”

  “Tesha? Nice name,” murmured Sheeowl.

  Tirak shot her an angry look but had no time for more as the Sholan group came up to them.

  “May we join you?” asked Kusac.

  Tirak gestured to the remaining places at the table. “Help yourselves. Have you met all of my crew?”

  Conversation flowed easily throughout the meal, with the U’Churians willing to tell them more about the various goods they traded in. Jalna’s main export, apparently, was fabrics. Top of their range was one woven from a fiber so strong and light that from its description it rivaled Terran silk.

  Carrie took the small sample that Tirak handed her. “It’s unbelievably soft,” she said, rubbing it gently between her fingers. “It’s warm, almost feels alive, and so soft! This would sell well on any world.”

  “And it’s cheap to buy,” said Tirak. “Our family owns the franchise for it. We were one of the first to start trading here. My forefather was astute enough to realize that what the Jalnian peasants wear would be a luxury for the wealthy back home. Jalnian dyes are magnificent, too. There’s a luminosity about them that we just cannot duplicate. We import this jotha in a variety of different shades as well as their basic unbleached cream.”

  “I want some of this,” said Carrie, handing the sample back to him. “Is it all as fine a weave as this?”

  “It comes in many weaves,” said Sheeowl. “From so fine it’s almost invisible, to so thick you could walk on it!”

  “She exaggerates,” said Tirak. “If you’re seriously interested, I can have samples brought over for you.”

  “I’m serious,” she said. “Is your supply capable of expanding to accommodate us as well?”

  “Depends whether you wish to sell a luxury item or not.”

  This fabric could help bring in the revenues we need to be self-sufficient, Carrie sent to Kusac. Can we trade in it since we’re not in the Merchants Guild?

  We’re En’Shalla; we belong to no Guild, he replied. We need to establish ourselves and I’d rather we made our living trading in luxury goods than from the lives of our Clan. Garras has the skills we need. Yes, make a preliminary deal with him now, I’ll guide you.

  She smiled, lifting her tankard of Jalnian chocolate. “You don’t expect me to tell you that, do you? Put a contract together for me to review, with samples of the fabric and prices. I’ll look it over during the next few days and we can discuss it further.”

  Tirak raised an eyebrow. “You sound very sure.”

  “I know my market, Captain Tirak,” she said, her voice a deep purr of amusement. “What else do you buy from here?”

  “A fermented grain beverage and raw gemstones.” He dug into one of his waist pouches and brought out a clear stone with a scintillating heart the color of a lapiz. “That’s a polished one,” he added. “I keep it as a luck piece.”

  She held it up to the light, turning it first one way then another to see the colors shift.

  “It’s beautiful. What’s it called?” she asked, handing it back to him.

  “They call it the Sky Tears,” he said, returning it to his pocket.

  “Are they expensive?”

  “They value them highly here so they aren’t cheap. Worked stones are expensive, but if you buy the raw ones, you can’t be sure that they’ll polish up well.”

  Ask if they trade in green stones— like the la’quo, sent Kaid.

  Unable to hide her start of surprise, Carrie slopped some of her drink on the table. She put the tankard down and flexed her hand as if it were sore.

  “Wrist still hurting?” asked Kaid sympathetically, sending to Kusac at the same time.

  “A little,” she said then turned back to the U’Churian. “What other raw gems do you get?”

  “Is there a particular color that you’re looking for?” he asked, taking a drink of his ale.

  “Purple ones, and perhaps green,” she said. “For my own use.”

  Tirak picked up her new eating knife and handed it to her. “Nothing darker than the stone you have in this, I’m afraid,” he said regretfully. “And no green ones at all. Perhaps our native gems might interest you, but I expect Kusac has shown them to you already.”

  “Trade with U’Chur is not my province,” she said. “I’ve been given the task of seeing what I find of interest on Jalna.”

  “I heard the Jalnians also trade in drugs,” said Kaid.

  Tirak shot him a hard look. “Some ships do. I don’t.”

  Kaid shook his head. “I’m not interested myself, but this is my first trip here. I had heard rumors.”

  “Drugs from other worlds are always available on the black market. I believe the risk is too great, unless they’ve been medically researched and prepared for use by one’s own species.” He turned to look at Carrie. “A warning for you. Don’t be tempted to buy any consumable goods from Jalna. Their land is poison as far as any non-Jalnian is concerned. And the poison goes into everything they eat and drink, drugs included,” he added, glancing briefly at Kaid.

  “Poisoned?” asked Kusac. “In what way?”

  Tirak shrugged. “I’m no scientist. It’s enough that we know it.”

  “You eat food here. Why it not affect you?” asked T’Chebbi.

  “The food in the traders’ town is either imported by spacers like us, or comes from the estates of Lord Tarolyn. His is the only land free of it. We import food for sale to Bradogan’s allies.”

  La’quo! sent Kaid. I didn’t get chance to tell you. Jeran, the one we found, was wearing a la’quo stone as a pendant. They all wear it to prevent the madness, he says.

  Kusac’s wrist comm buzzed a warning. He looked apologetically at Tirak. “We have to go,” he said. “An appointment with Lord Bradogan.”

  Tirak nodded. “A pity. I had hoped you’d join us tonight. We might even find a diversion to suit the Solnian’s taste.” He grinned, showing a mouthful of teeth that rivaled Kusac’s.

  “I think not,” said Carrie. “We’ve work to do. You know how it is with these Chemerians— they work you every hour the Gods send.”

  Tirak nodded in agreement. “Another time. Will you go to the Meeting Point tomorrow?”

  “We’ll be there at some point,” said Kusac as he got to his feet. “Enjoy your evening.”

  *

  As they all threaded their way out, Kusac sent to Kaid. You found one? Jeran? Where?

  At the last warehouse. He’s an engineer. We stopped at the ship before coming here. Kishasayzar is going to request him to fix our lif
e-support systems. Jeran told us all Port workers wear talismans to ward off the madness.

  And are the talismans la’quo stones? sent Carrie.

  Definitely. I touched it to make sure.

  You shouldn’t have taken such a risk, sent Kusac as they emerged out into the Jalnian night. You know it affects you badly.

  Only way to be positive.

  They moved in close to the wall, stopping for a moment to talk.

  “When he took his talisman off, Kusac, he could hear me mind-speak,” said Kaid. “He said Miroshi spoke to him like that, so he’s obviously got some sensitivity. I told him to keep the talisman off whenever he could so we could reach him.”

  Kusac nodded. “You think the la’quo is responsible for this poisoning of the soil?”

  Kaid nodded. “I’m sure. They use the stone to calm themselves, prevent the violence, just as the Valtegans used it on us in the past. And you can’t have the stones without the plant having been grown here at some point.”

  “A stone for nearly everyone on Jalna,” murmured Carrie. “That’s one hell of a lot of plants.”

  “Isn’t it?” said Kaid.

  “Is big step from what you say stone does to the plant causing violence,” pointed out T’Chebbi. “Only know it calms you, no more. Something else involved here.”

  “We know more. We know the la’quo in various forms affects the Chemerians, us, the Valtegans and the Jalnians— it bridges species differences,” said Kaid. “And we know the soil has been poisoned.”

  “And that the Valtegans visit occasionally to take soil and plant samples,” said Carrie. “It all points to the plant and the Valtegans being responsible for whatever has polluted the soil, and the Valtegans know about it.”

  “Lots of plants,” said T’Chebbi. “So many stones, perhaps use Jalna to grow this plant like a farm.”

  “What?” Kaid turned to look at her.

  “They farm plant on Jalna,” she repeated. “So many alien plants that it puts alien chemicals in soil, pollutes it.”

  “And through the soil, as Tirak said, it gets into everything,” said Kusac. “A hallucinogenic plant. No wonder the people on Jalna are violent.”

  “Something else,” said Carrie, her tone somber. “It suppresses telepathy. That’s why we can’t reach our people. They’ve been eating the local food for over six months. The Gods know what else it’s done to them!”

  Kusac glanced at his wrist unit. “We have to go. We’re supposed to be at the Keep to meet Assadou now. We’ve got an interview with Bradogan, hopefully to get our permits. You and T’Chebbi see if you can find Strick and make contact with him. We’ll meet you back at the inn when we’re through. Take care.”

  Kaid nodded.

  *

  “So they’re looking for these green stones, eh?” muttered Tirak, swirling the dregs of his ale around in his tankard. “Mrowbay, you keep an eye on our two Sholans tonight. Sheeowl, you follow the other pair to the Keep. Giyesh…”

  “With pleasure, Captain,” she purred, stretching as she got to her feet. “Nayash, I could do with your help to locate him. Rather have some backup if I’m wandering around the Port at night.”

  Tirak watched them disperse thoughtfully. “I wonder what they’re up to at the Keep at this time of night?” He looked up at Mrowbay and Manesh. “You go and see if you can find out who bought the other two. I think I’ll pay another visit to Tesha, see if she’ll talk to me this time.”

  *

  “You’re late,” said the servant who was waiting for them at the gatehouse. He hustled them past the guards and on toward the high arched doorway that led into the Keep.

  As they passed under it, Kusac looked up, seeing the metal spikes that formed the base of the raised portcullis. “You were right about that,” he murmured, drawing her attention to it.

  “Universal constant— like the wheel,” she said. “I’ve noticed lots of them on… back home,” she said, a shiver running through her as she realized she’d almost said Shola.

  “Lord Bradogan is waiting,” said the servant, his tone reproachful as they slowed down to look around the entrance hall. “We must hurry.”

  They followed him across to the stone staircase at the far side of the hall. As they climbed, their footsteps echoed eerily in the narrow stairwell. The wall on their left ended and abruptly, they found themselves in a well lit anteroom. There was nothing in the way of furniture and across from them they could see Assadou perched uncomfortably on a chest. Only one of his Sumaan retainers accompanied him this time.

  He looks like a child, thought Carrie as they crossed the wooden floor to join him.

  They’re arboreal, remember? sent Kusac. His legs are short and really only suited to gripping tree branches. That’s why he uses a powered chair. And the gravity is too heavy for him.

  Is he going to walk in?

  Kusac shrugged as they stopped opposite the obviously distressed Chemerian.

  “Wait here,” said the servant, disappearing through a doorway.

  “You’re late!” said Assadou, wringing his hands, the edges of his large ears quivering uncontrollably. “You request this audience! Why you not here on time? Keeping Lord Bradogan waiting like this is most unacceptable!”

  “It was unavoidable, Assadou,” said Kusac, looking down at the small being. “We’re only a couple of minutes late, nothing to be so concerned about.”

  Carrie sighed with relief as the door opened, preventing Assadou from replying.

  The servant held it wide for them. “Lord Bradogan will see you now.”

  “Can I help you, Assadou?” Kusac asked as the Chemerian began to push himself off the chest.

  “Can manage,” he snapped, steadying himself against it before beginning to walk painfully and slowly into the inner chamber.

  As he moved away from it, the Sumaan bent to retrieve the chest.

  Bradogan insists that Assadou walk in, sent Carrie furiously. He’s humiliating him on purpose!

  We were warned about Bradogan, replied Kusac. It’s bad enough that Assadou has to put up with being treated like this, but for us to see it too… Had I known, I wouldn’t have humiliated him further by offering to help. I should have checked. His tone was regretful.

  Their progress was by necessity slow and Carrie took the opportunity to look around her. Like Kusac, she was aware of Bradogan’s presence, but she was damned if she was going to acknowledge it until she had to.

  This is how I always imagined a castle should look, she sent to Kusac. The walls had been faced with panels of rich brown wood with heavy decorative tapestries hung at regular intervals, their colors were a glowing testament to Tirak’s earlier praise. Mainly of hunting scenes, they featured men on their riding beasts accompanied by packs of some canine creature more domesticated than the tarnachs used as guard dogs outside in the Port.

  Ornately carved sideboards and chests were set against the walls, with an occasional highbacked plain chair between them. Lighting, though modern, was subdued and gentler on her eyes than that they’d encountered so far.

  Now, Carrie looked ahead to the long table. Behind it Bradogan lounged, with studied indifference. It was the man they’d seen earlier, and being closer to him did nothing to dispel her instinctive dislike and wariness.

  A youngish man, probably in his thirties, Carrie surmised. His face had a lean hardness about it which the neatly trimmed beard and mustache only accentuated. As they drew to a stop in front of him, he sat up in his chair, resting his elbow on the padded arm. Cool brown eyes regarded them impassively.

  From one end of the table, a scribe looked up. “Trader Assadou Chikoi, Lord Bradogan, seeking a permit for his agent and the Solnian Representative to accompany a cargo containing his goods to Lord Tarolyn of Galrayin.”

  Bradogan rested his chin on his hand and surveyed the small Chemerian in front of him. “Why do you think it necessary for these people to accompany your cargo?” he asked. “Aren’t my soldiers enough g
uarantee for you?”

  “Is valuable cargo, Lord Bradogan,” said Assadou, inclining his upper body as low as it would go. “New trade goods from Sol. The female,” he indicated Carrie, “is Representative from there.”

  Bradogan’s dark brows met in a frown. “Why wasn’t I apprised of this world before, Trader? And of the visiting Representative? You make me appear inhospitable by your own lack of courtesy.”

  “We only arrived last night, Lord. Sent word today.” Assadou’s ears were beginning to curl and uncurl all along the outer edges as he became more nervous. “Give you assurances that insult not intentional.” He turned to Carrie, grasping her by the hand and tugging her forward. “Solnian Representative, Lord Bradogan. Carrie Aldatan.”

  His hand trembled as it clutched her, tugging firmly downward to let her know a sign of her respect was required.

  “Lord Bradogan,” she said, inclining her head in his direction. Though he concealed it well, she could feel his intense interest in her.

  “A pleasure to welcome you to Jalna, Carrie Aldatan,” he said. “Had the Trader informed me of your arrival earlier, I would have invited you to dine with me tonight. Perhaps tomorrow evening?” His voice was quiet and deep. Persuasive.

  Let him see the predator in your eyes, sent Kusac.

  “My schedule is tight, Lord Bradogan,” she said, looking directly at him and increasing her discouragement field. “My people wish me to assess the potential market for our goods, then return. They are anxious to formalize trade agreements with your people.”

  Surprise made him sit up, then look away. “Another time,” he said, turning his attention to Assadou. “Why have I seen none of the Solnian trade goods?” he demanded.

  The Chemerian gestured to his guard, who stepped forward to place the chest on the table in front of Bradogan. Unfastening the catch, he opened the lid.

  “Are for you, Lord Bradogan. A gift from Sol.”

  Bradogan leaned forward and pulled the chest closer. “Tallis!” he called. “Your opinion is required.”