Trader's Honour

by Patty Jansen

  Braedon snorted. "Married, to whom?"

  "Someone from outside Miran," Mikandra said.

  "Rubbish. He needs to provide an heir. No one outside Miran can help him do that."

  "I don't know his reasons, but that's what he told me." Mikandra was getting angry. This family was just stupid. Didn't any of them talk to each other? Imagine if she treated Liseyo like these brothers treated each other. "I was sitting here, and he was on the other side of the desk. The wedding dress was hanging on the wardrobe door over there. If you don't believe me, that's fine, but don't keep telling me this 'we need an heir' nonsense, because everyone knows it's nonsense, and no doubt Iztho knows that, too. If he didn't tell you he planned to marry, that's his problem, not mine. This box contained arm bands. They're gone. If that is not enough proof, then I don't know what is."

  Both Rehan and Braedon gaped at her.

  After a short silence, Braedon said, "All right. But who is this person supposed to be?"

  "He didn't tell me a name."

  Rehan said, his voice annoyed, "We've had no contacts outside Miran for potential candidates. Mother would know."

  Taerzo also came into the room. "What are you all doing in here?" He frowned and looked from one to the other. "Whoa, did I interrupt something?"

  "Do you know anything about Iztho getting married?" Braedon asked.

  His eyes widened. "What?"

  "Well, there is this." He gestured to the empty box.

  Taerzo's mouth fell open. "You have got to be joking. After all this fuss that came with refusing Liandra Satarin? After all these years of fucking us around? Of making us wait, and making an idiot out of me? Of telling me to wait, wait because Father would have liked it this way? Traditions, blah, blah, blah. What the fuck … I have no fucking words! The fucking arsehole. Fuck it. If this is true, I hate the fucker if I didn't do so already. Why fuck me around for all this time and—"

  Rehan said, "Taerzo. We have no proof that it was actually happening."

  Taerzo breathed heavily, his face red.

  "Hey, man, calm down," Braedon said.

  Taerzo glanced at Mikandra. "Sorry." But he balled his fists against his sides. "But just thinking about it makes me angry. Think of all the shit Calliandra has had to put up with for not being married."

  Braedon said, "Could he have made a deal with someone without telling Mother?"

  Rehan said, "Why would he do that? I mean—if he really got married, that would be a huge deal and a lot of pressure off his shoulders. He'd be one of the most desirable men in Miran and I'm sure Mother gets proposals almost every day."

  "Maybe it's someone he fell in love with?" Mikandra said.

  The brothers looked at her as if she was mad.

  Taerzo snorted. "No way. Have you ever seen him with a woman?"

  All three brothers shook their heads.

  Braedon said, "He's not interested in women. I always thought of him as . . . you know . . ." He shrugged. His cheeks were red.

  Rehan shook his head. "He's plain not interested in anyone. And certainly, he's such an arsehole that I can't imagine any woman ever falling in love with him. Ever."

  Mikandra thought of Aunt Amandra, who'd had an on-off relationship with the same Trader for many years. Mikandra had seen Ydana Ezmi a few times. He was Coldi, from Hedron and the leader of their Trader Guild chapter. When he visited Miran, he wore Mirani clothes and lived like a shadow in her house. Mikandra knew him as a kind man, if very formal and reserved. Aunt Amandra said he'd learned to be quiet in Miran. Not like his normal self, she said.

  Father spoke of the relationship as scandalous, and his remarks hinted at his sister having discussed the subject of making their relationship legal. Mikandra wasn't sure whatever had happened there, except she didn't think there had been a wedding. These days, no one mentioned him. Mikandra wasn't even sure if he still came to Miran or if the relationship was still going. Maybe a break-up was behind the reason for aunt Amandra to run in the elections. And maybe the need to remain secretive and the resistance from her family had broken the relationship.

  Who was to say that Iztho couldn't have developed a similar relationship? As the one expected to provide the family's heir, it would be doubly devastating.

  Then another thought: if Iztho had fallen in love with an "unapproved" woman, what was to say that he hadn't simply left his brothers, taken some money and eloped with her?

  There was a small sound in the hall and the family's housekeeper, Gillay, came into the doorway, looking into the room. "This is a very strange time for you all to be standing here." She was middle-aged, with a round face, large bosom and rounded hips straining against the apron she wore over her dress.

  When no one reacted to her words, she continued, "Breakfast is ready."

  There were nods all around.

  Breakfast was a good idea.

  Chapter 9

  Mikandra followed the brothers into the dining room, where the Gillay hastily put an extra plate on the table without batting an eyelid or questioning her presence.

  She ladled soup from the terrine in the middle of the table and placed plates with rolls of fish bread next to each soup plate.

  The soup smelled heavenly. It was thick and rich and creamy. The bread radiated warmth and spread a wonderful aroma through the room. When Mikandra broke a piece off, steam rose from it. Rosep made fish bread, but it was nothing like this.

  No one said anything while they ate. Braedon's face was pale. Taerzo's hair was all mussed up from sleeping on the couch. Gillay came back with tea, poured out cups and left again with a tray of soup and a steaming cup of tea. "I'll bring this to the mistress."

  She left in the direction of the living room. A moment later came the sound of voices. Then the click of a door.

  It was easy to forget that there was another person still in the house. She didn't know the family matriarch Isandra very well and only remembered the talk about when she had turned her back on a rival Trader when he had come to offer his condolences at her husband's funeral. "You were not his friend in life and you shall not pretend to be his friend in death," she was rumoured to have said.

  "So," Rehan said after a while. "There is no money that we can trace easily. I don't think there is any point in keeping going through these accounts."

  Taerzo said, "Could we borrow for a short time?"

  "I have no idea who could lend us as much as we need."

  Braedon nodded, and fell into silence again.

  After a bit longer, Rehan said, "We have to make a plan. We try to find the money for a few more days, then if we don't find enough, we try scouting for a loan. A couple of loans, if necessary."

  "Could we bring forward the court case?" Taerzo asked.

  "I don't know that bringing it forward would go in our favour, even if we could. We may need that long to give ourselves the best chance."

  Taerzo nodded.

  "We could talk to the Hedron Mines," Braedon said. "Ask them to extend their deadline."

  "Hmm, they tend to be strict with their payments," Rehan said. "I don’t hold out much hope there. Unless you go in person. Would you do that?"

  Taerzo shrugged. "I could, but every time I go there, I feel they hate our guts already, and that's without me begging for money." Then he folded his hands under the table and muttered, "Oh, man."

  "We need someone to prepare the court case," Rehan continued. "Braedon?"

  "Yeah, I'll do that."

  "Get all the Exchange records for the days of the supposed crime. Take it to be investigated independently. Find a Lawkeeper who is not going to screw us over. Find someone at the Guild."

  Braedon nodded.

  "Meanwhile, I'm going to comb everything in the office, and grill the accountant to see if I can find out what has happened to Iztho and the money."

  They all nodded.

  Mikandra wanted to shout, What about me? but at that moment, there was a knock on the front door, and everyone went silent, giving ea
ch other Are you expecting someone? looks. Gillay went to open the door. Her voice sounded in the hall, and a male voice replied.

  Mikandra's heart jumped. That was sure to be her father. He might have said that she was no longer welcome in the house and that he'd cut her off from her inheritance, but nothing her father did was ever simple. He wouldn't want something like this to "ruin his reputation", so no matter what he said, he would try to find an "acceptable" solution.

  Gillay poked her head into the dining room. "Sorry, Master Rehan, but there is someone at the door to speak to all of you. Do I let him in?"

  Rehan frowned.

  Mikandra's heart thudded.

  "It's urgent, he says. From the council."

  "All right."

  Gillay left. Braedon mouthed, The Council? pretty much voicing what Mikandra felt. Not her father then?

  There were voices in the hallway. A man's voice which didn't sound like her father.

  The door opened and into the room came no other than High Councillor Nemedor Satarin, his cheeks red from the cold. "Good morning all." His voice sounded upbeat. "I hope I'm not disturbing you at this early hour."

  The brothers returned greetings, all curt and professional. Emotionless. Traders did that game very well in public, but she now knew Rehan well enough to almost hear his voice saying what the fuck . . . ?

  Nemedor Satarin stopped a few paces inside the door. "Mind if I join you?"

  Rehan gestured to the empty chair next to Mikandra.

  Nemedor Satarin pulled out the chair and sat down. Nikala were much less tall than Endri, and Nemedor Satarin was not a tall Nikala man. Even when seated, he was shorter than her. Some people would call him a midget, but never to his sharp-nosed face.

  He already wore his council uniform at this early hour. Diamond-drops of molten snow twinkled in his hair, which was too short-cropped to show that it was curly.

  He glanced at Mikandra and raised one eyebrow. His dark blue eyes met hers. Mikandra had never spoken to him or seen him close up, but Father had told her that the man's memory for people was legendary. If he didn't know who she was before coming into this room, he would now.

  A silence lingered while Gillay poured tea for him. Rehan's face was very blank and emotionless. Braedon's expression was downright suspicious.

  "I have come to make a proposition on behalf of the council," Nemedor Satarin said after Gillay had left the room.

  "From the council or from you?" Rehan wanted to know.

  "The council."

  Rehan nodded. Braedon leaned his hands on the table at the wrists, in a position as if he might grab something any moment. Taerzo leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Nemedor Satarin continued, "I understand that this is hard for you to discuss these matters, but it has come to my attention that you may be in a position of difficulty."

  "Are we?" Rehan said, his voice and face unemotional. Oh yes, addicts did that blank look very well.

  "Well, the rumour goes that you are, so I thought I'd come to check on you, because the council cares about Mirani businesses."

  Rehan said, "Thank you, but we're just fine."

  Mikandra's thought was how did the council know this? Trader communication was meant to be private.

  Nemedor Satarin smiled. "Well, that's a relief then, but if, by any chance, there was a problem—"

  At the time Braedon said, "We're fine," Taerzo said, "Well, it depends who's offering."

  The two brothers glared at each other and were silent again.

  Mikandra wanted to shout He's playing you!

  A small smile crossed Nemedor Satarin's lips.

  "We at the council care about our Mirani Trading families, the employers of the city and indeed our entire nation. We don't want any of our businesses to go under."

  "Naturally," Rehan said, oh so cool.

  "It is also in our interest that employers can keep doing their business, and if there are problems, the council is there to help."

  "Certainly," Rehan said again.

  After a short silence Taerzo asked, "What form, exactly, would this help take?"

  "Assistance. With permits, approvals. Finance." He met Mikandra's eyes briefly, still puzzled, and looked away again. "Would you be interested?"

  "Depends," Braedon said.

  Mikandra wanted to shout don't. Iztho had warned her about him.

  Taerzo said, "Just how much money are we talking about?"

  "Enough to see you through whatever problem has occurred." He smiled. "Come and see me in my office."

  He rose and put a piece of paper on the table. "Well, I must go now. That's all I wanted to say for now. I don't need a reply. I'll leave this here so you can think it over."

  He nodded, opened the door and went into the hall where he put on his boots, cloak and left.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, Rehan picked up the paper and read it.

  "Fuck."

  "What is it, brother?"

  "Loan up to two hundred and fifty thousand credits."

  Taerzo laughed aloud. "All our problems are solved. The council lends us the money, we pay it back as soon as we can after our accounts are un-frozen."

  "I don't know if it's a good idea to accept this loan . . ." Mikandra began.

  Taerzo looked at her. "What do you mean?"

  "Well." Mikandra licked her lips. "When I came here to sign my application, Iztho warned me about Nemedor Satarin. He said he's undermining the Trader Guild and warned me not to get involved with him."

  Rehan said, "Is this another one of your mysterious recollections?"

  "I swear he told me!" Mikandra felt the ground slide from under her. Tears pricked in her eyes. Iztho's warning had been very strong.

  "Knock off tearing into her, brother," Braedon said.

  Rehan glared at him. "If she wants to be one of us, I want her to handle the heat. No kid gloves. If Iztho thought she has what it takes, I want her to show us, and I'm not going to hold back or pander to any of that no fucking swearing in front of women nonsense."

  His eyes met her squarely, as if issuing a challenge.

  "You can swear in front of me all you like. There is no bullying tactic that my father hasn't already tried on me. None of them worked very well. Iztho warned me. I'm passing his warning on to you. At least you can't blame me for not telling you."

  Rehan glared at her.

  Leitho had his hallucinations. Rehan wanted word-fights. Bring it on.

  He blew a forceful breath from his nostrils and crossed his arms over his chest.

  "Iztho hates Nemedor Satarin," Braedon said in a milder voice for Mikandra's benefit. "It seems personal more than anything. I don't know exactly why or how they had a run-in in Barresh, but the hatred stems from there. The man is an army general who has gone into politics. Iztho is . . ." He spread his hands. ". . . Iztho. Different. Needing space. He doesn't promise anything. He doesn't tell people where he's going. Nemedor Satarin is hardline, unforgiving and ambitious. He doesn't suffer fools or people who change their minds. They're not characters that will ever be friends. We don't agree with a lot of things Nemedor Satarin does, but one thing he does do well, and that is to help locals."

  Mikandra said, "If Nemedor Satarin had a run-in with Iztho in Barresh, why would he offer the Andrahar Traders a substantial loan?"

  "He said it was the council's money," Taerzo said.

  "How is council money different from personal money? They both smell of politics."

  "The council has an official policy to help locals."

  "Then why does he come here in person out of office hours? I don't trust that man. His version of cleaning up Miran's streets involves letting the homeless die and be eaten by maramarang. He won't spend money giving the poor houses, but he'll lend you this much money? What other conclusion can you draw but that he has a hidden motive?"

  "Whoa," Taerzo said. "That's putting it a bit strong."

  "I happen to agree with her." Reh
an didn't meet her eyes. "I also agree that we may not have another option. I'd be a lot happier if we could arrange our own solution." He looked at Taerzo. "Do go and ask if we can defer the payment to the Hedron Mines."

  Taerzo's expression was incredulous. "What? This is the best offer we get and you want to turn it down? This is a council offer, not from him personally."

  "I don't know yet," Rehan said. "I don't want to offend him. He's a powerful man, but I wish to hell I knew what he wants from us, and until I find that out, I think it pays to stay the fuck away from any deals he wants to offer."

  "Then what do you suggest we do?" Taerzo's voice trembled with anger. "I need money. I need to get back to work. I have a family to feed."

  "We all do, but none of us will be able to work until the court case anyway." Rehan was definitely annoyed now.

  "Oh man." Taerzo put his head in his hands.

  A moment of silence passed.

  There was a noise elsewhere in the house and soft shuffling footsteps. A thin figure came to the doorway.

  It had been a while since Mikandra had last seen the Andrahar family matriarch. She cut an imposing figure even in her old age, with her back straight and her silver hair falling over her shoulders. She wore several layers of fur wrapped tightly about her shoulders.

  Her sharp gaze went around the room and rested on Rehan. "Is there anything going on? I thought I heard Nemedor Satarin's voice."

  "You did."

  "What by all of the ancestors was he doing in here?" Sharp eyes took in her three sons and came to a rest on Mikandra. There was no surprise in her expression.

  "Well, uhm . . ." The change in Rehan was incredible. "There has been a problem."

  She raised her eyebrows and he continued, "Apparently someone has reported Iztho for smuggling menisha into Barresh."

  "Rubbish," she said.

  "Yes, that's what I said, too, but we'll need to prove it, and the court has suspended our licence until that time." He let a small silence lapse. "And the Hedron account is due. Nemedor Satarin offered us a loan."

  "You will accept money from that man over my dead body."