Galatzi Joy (Galatzi Trade Book 3)

by Robin Roseau

  “Probably both,” Masalarn said. “You said ‘no’ to her.”

  “And if she tries to sell me something I don’t want, I’ll say it again,” I said. “I want the simplest, easiest, lightest buggy you have.”

  She laughed. “I know you do.”

  “Do I make trouble for you?”

  “It would take her two hours before she realizes what you’re really here to buy.” We stepped through a gate, and then I saw what she meant.

  I pointed. “That is a cabriolet.”

  “Yes.”

  I pulled away from her and ran to it. I ran my hands over it. It was beautiful, but simple at the same time. The wood was smooth and gleamed, with only the lightest of ornaments. I turned to Masalarn. “May I climb up?”

  “Not yet,” she said. She stepped to the side and collected a piece of wood on feet. I didn’t know what it was called, but she carried it over and set it down between the two poles that would ride alongside Ristassa. At that, her mother-in-law moved over, and between the two of them, they lifted the poles and then set them across the support structure. I realized this way, they were now near the same height they would be when Ristassa was attached.

  “Now you may,” Masalarn said. She stepped to my side and leant a hand. I climbed in and sat down.

  The seat wasn’t as comfortable as a modern ground vehicle. Of course it wasn’t. But it was soft and as comfortable as I might expect. I looked over my shoulder, and I could see the roof was folded back. “This goes like this,” I said, gesturing.

  “Yes. You pull on the strap there.” She pointed. “You may need to stand. Do not fall.”

  I actually turned around and knelt on the seat. I pulled the strap, moving the roof into place, and Masalarn showed me how to lock it into place, then how I would release it. I clapped joyfully.

  I looked around. I imagined Ristassa in front of me. I held imaginary reins like I had seen Sartine or Chaladine do more than once.

  Then I looked at Masalarn. “This one is more than five hundred.”

  “Yes,” she said. “This one is new.”

  I looked at Rutessain. She didn’t look pleased, but she had to see my joy. “Rutessain,” I said. “I not star girl. I simple Talmon girl now. I need a good cabriolet for a simple Talmon girl.” I caressed some of the wood. “Maybe this is the right one, but this is not for a simple Talmon girl, is it? This is for a rich Talmon girl.”

  “No, Maddalyn,” Masalarn said. “You are only half right. A merchant might keep one of these for his family.”

  “I want to see one for a simple Talmon girl,” I said.

  “You are not a simple girl,” Masalarn said. “You are a complicated woman.”

  “Maybe, but I might be a very bad driver.” She snorted at that, and then I said, “Maybe I need one that won’t break your heart when I run into a hay wagon.”

  “You aren’t going to run into a hay wagon.”

  “You saw me ride. Imagine how many times I’ve driven a cabriolet.”

  She laughed. “Ristassa won’t run into a hay wagon.”

  “Does Ristassa push backwards?” I asked. I turned and pointed. “What is behind us now?” I leaned over, looking backwards along the outside. “It looks very expensive.”

  Masalarn laughed. Rutessain didn’t look amused, but I thought I had made my point.

  “I like this one. It is beautiful. Your family makes beautiful vehicles, more beautiful than anything from Frantzland.” I turned to Rutessain. “That is my world, where I was born. We have nothing this beautiful.” I caressed the wood. “Please show me one that won’t break my heart if I scratch it.”

  I climbed down, and it wasn’t Masalarn who led me; it was Rutessain. She showed me two more cabriolets, both new. Clearly I had been looking at the best first, and I said so, although these were beautiful, too.

  “No, Maddalyn. The best we make special for the buyer,” Masalarn said. “But the first is the best we have here today.”

  “You said you could sell me a used one. Do you have any?” Rutessain didn’t look at all pleased, but she led me to the furthest back of their yard, and there were four more cabriolets in various stages of aging. I walked to the one that looked oldest, and Rutessain lifted her hands in a pleading gesture.

  “Please, not that one, Star Woman,” she said.

  I turned to her. “I wish to understand,” I said. “Do you have time to teach me, Rutessain?”

  “Teach you?”

  “I know so little. Please. Teach me. Or let Masalarn teach me.” I finished the distance to the one she didn’t want me to buy. If it had been the first I’d seen, I might have accepted it, but now that I had seen what I could have, if I could afford it, I already knew it was unlikely I would take it. “Is this in poor repair?”

  “It was left outside,” she said. “For years. My sons made it usable, but it is not worth bringing to our standards.”

  “I can see it is not pretty. Is it strong? Will it break tomorrow?”

  “No. My sons fixed that.”

  I looked it over. It wasn’t just that it had been left outside. It had been made of the simplest design. I could see signs of repair, but I looked it over, trying to find flaws beyond cosmetic, and it needed a new roof.

  “You didn’t fix that,” I said.

  “It’s not worth the price of fixing it,” she replied.

  “That part is expensive?”

  “If we had a ruined cabriolet, we might take the roof and add it to this one,” she said. “No one would put a new one on it.”

  I nodded. “Tell me best price for this one.”

  “Please, no, Star Woman.”

  “I do not want this one, but I want to know prices. I don’t know any prices. I don’t know if the first one is one thousand dollars or one hundred thousand dollars.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You kid.”

  “Well, I assume it’s not that much, but I don’t know. Maybe you used rare woods. Maybe it is like art. I don’t know.”

  “Our most expensive cabriolet ever was twenty-seven thousand,” she said. She turned and pointed to the one I really, really loved. “The asking price is five thousand.”

  “Best price of this one. That tells me the range.”

  She studied it. “Two hundred.”

  I nodded. “This one you did not make.”

  “No.”

  I moved to the next, then went past the other two, examining each of them. “You did not make that one, either.”

  “Actually,” she said. “My grandfather made that one.”

  “What?” I said. I hurried to it. “I not understand. Your father’s father?”

  “My mother’s father,” she corrected.

  “This is more than fifty years old?”

  “Fifty-seven,” she said.

  I looked it over, being very careful, then I pointed to the new one. “If I am going to scratch one, I imagine you would rather I scratch that one.”

  She laughed for the first time since I arrived. “You show respect for my family’s work.”

  “They are beautiful, Rutessain.”

  “You do not want this one,” she said. “It requires someone who will take special care.”

  “Someone who knows how to fix it.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  She gestured. “We didn’t make this one. It is from Fessen.”

  “Where is Fessen?”

  “North,” said Masalarn. “It is the next big town from here, perhaps a day and a half or two days of travel.”

  “There is a road?”

  “No. I imagine it arrived by ship.”

  “I understand,” I said. I thought about it. “I do not want to ride around Sudden in a cabriolet from Fessen.” I moved to the last of the used ones.

  “This is one of ours,” she said. “It is seventeen years old.”

  “What is first price?” I asked.

  She didn't even hesitate. “Twelve-hundred.”

  I nodded. “Does
that include everything I need? Soft seat? Leather parts?” I held up my hands, mimicking reins.

  “Yes,” she said. “Everything. The seat is worn.”

  “It can be replaced,” Masalarn said. “If you want something finer.”

  I looked it over, stem to stern. There were clear signs of wear. I asked if I could see the top in position. This time, Masalarn handled it for me. The poles weren’t on the stand, so I couldn’t climb aboard and do it myself. I examined everything, including the worn cushion. It was the only part that didn’t impress me, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to buy a new cushion, not right away.

  It could be next year’s treat.

  “I can see what any child can see,” I said. “I cannot see what you can see, Rutessain.”

  “This is a good cabriolet,” she said. She pointed to the one her grandfather had made. “If you take care, you can see they last many, many years.”

  I looked underneath. “I do not know what to look for here. How do I know it won’t break?”

  “We wouldn’t sell one that would break, especially not to a Star Woman!”

  I turned my head to look at her. “I know, but how do you know.”

  “Oh,” she said. She moved over and crouched down. She pointed to the parts that took the most wear. She explained the service. I didn’t understand half, but I let her talk. I was willing to take her word, as long as she had actually taken a real look herself.

  I straightened and said, “If that one was seventeen years old, what would first price be?”

  “In this condition?” she clarified. “Three thousand.”

  I nodded. “If I buy this one today, and next year decide I want a new one, will you buy this one back?”

  “That is why we have this one,” she said. “Except it was not next year.”

  I laughed. “I suppose not.” I looked over the cabriolet again. It really was pretty, and as well I could tell, it was sound. And then Rutessain did something that told me she didn’t think she could talk me into a new one. She said something to Masalarn, who proceeded to collect another of the stands for the poles, setting it up while I watched. But before I climbed aboard, I moved to the front of the poles, stepped between them, and lifted.

  It wasn’t heavy at all. I set it back down carefully and then accepted help climbing into the seat. It wasn’t as comfortable as the first one, and I rethought my position on the cushion. But I looked everything over carefully. I imagined my new horse in front of me.

  I wondered if I would regret not buying the other one. I wondered how I would feel if I scratched it.

  I wondered if it was too fancy and entirely the wrong message.

  “Rutessain, if a simple Talmon girl came here, which would you sell her.”

  “Maddalyn,” Masalarn said. “A simple girl does not buy our carriages.”

  “Oh.”

  “But if she did, she might buy the one my husband’s mother begs you not to buy.”

  “I understand.”

  “Star Woman,” Rutessain said. I wondered if she knew my name. “Is money the question?”

  “I want the right one,” I said. I pointed again. “That one is beautiful, and I would feel so elegant and grand. But it seems like that might be the wrong one most of the time. It seems like it might be too elegant.”

  “No, Maddalyn,” she said. Ah, she did know my name. She smiled. “You saw what I wanted to sell you.”

  “You added the stand.” I pointed. “You stopped trying to sell me a new one.”

  “I can see now,” she said. “I should have trusted my son’s wife. It is between these two?”

  “I don’t know.” I climbed back down and then went from one to another again. I didn’t ask about prices. I didn’t have enough coin with me for the most expensive one, but I could return to the embassy and fetch the rest of what I had, if necessary. I had enough for the used one. But I looked at the others. Then I spent time around the nicest and the used, and then I said, “I am sorry. I am taking so much time.”

  “You take all the time you want,” Masalarn said. “And we’ll answer any questions.”

  I nodded then turned full to face her. “Which do you think I should buy?”

  “Please don’t ask me.”

  Her eyes flicked to Rutessain, and in that, I had my answer. She would sell me an old one. Then she said quietly, “It is what you said you wanted.”

  “Before I saw this beauty and elegance.” I turned to Rutessain. “Why do you hide this back here? It should be in front.”

  “Then people would need to walk further to compare,” she said.

  “Oh. Of course.” I walked back to the old one. Masalarn asked me if I knew my thoughts.

  “It is the seat,” I said.

  “You can replace the cushion with a new one.”

  “But I don’t believe it would be as comfortable, even if it were not worn.” I sighed. “I am being silly. My longest ride is twenty minutes. I can sit on the floor for twenty minutes if I have to.”

  “Maddalyn.” She paused, and then she stepped over to the nice one, the top of the line one. She took the cushion from it. Rutessain anticipated her and had the cushion out of the older one before Masalarn reached it. She slid the new cushion into place and gestured. I climbed into place, sat down, wriggled, then immediately asked, “What is first price with this seat?”

  Rutessain smiled. “Two thousand.”

  “Before your bargain,” Masalarn said, “You saw which cushion I took.”

  “Yes.”

  “I could have taken any of our new cushions, and it would feel as good. It just isn’t as elegant.”

  “She is right,” Rutessain said. “A new cushion, but less ornate, is much less. Fifteen hundred.”

  “We can do many different colors and patterns,” Masalarn said.

  “It will be as comfortable?”

  “Perhaps not to your fingers,” she said. “Feel.” And so I brushed my fingers across the fabric. “This is the wrong cushion for this cabriolet,” she said. “I only wished to show you that you could have a very comfortable cushion.”

  “This is the one I want,” I said. “This cabriolet with the right cushion. Do we need to decide which fabrics?”

  “Will you trust us to make you happy?” Masalarn asked.

  “It will feel this good, and you will be proud for people to see me using it?”

  “Yes,” Rutessain said. “Very proud.”

  “Do I have to wait? I suppose I can sit on the wood.”

  “You can sit on the old cushion,” Masalarn said. “And later save it as a spare. It won’t change the price. We wouldn’t use it again.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Seven hundred and fifty.”

  Rutessain smiled and began talking about the wonderful features of the cabriolet. I turned to Masalarn. “Is she flirting with me?”

  Masalarn broke into laughter then quickly explained to Rutessain, who offered another smile. The woman moved closer. She smiled. “I should ask for more than fifteen hundred. I could keep you here all day.”

  I laughed then opened my purse and counted out my offered price. I set the coins on the cushion beside me. It was her turn to laugh again. “You know that is not our final price.” She paused. “Fourteen hundred.”

  I thought about it and added a hundred-dollar coin to my pile, saying nothing about the price, but instead I said, “Imagine. A star woman. She drives to the theater in this beautiful cabriolet. Everyone stares. Who is she, some ask. Where did she get the cabriolet, asks another. Maybe I should sell off my poor Fessen cabriolet and get a much nicer one, like the Star Woman.”

  They both laughed, and then Rutessain, speaking slowly so I knew it was for my benefit, asked Masalarn, “Now who is flirting?”

  But then Masalarn spoke quickly, too quickly for me, and I knew she did it intentionally. Rutessain replied, and they went back and forth. I thought even if I had heard all the words, I wouldn’t have understood. And then Masalarn turned to look i
nto my eyes. “Twelve-hundred. We will add your lights. And for as long as you own this cabriolet, you may bring it here, and we will inspect it for you. Do you understand?”

  “You will check to see if it needs work.”

  “Yes. But you will pay for any work. Also, I will sew your new seat myself.”

  “No,” Rutessain said. “We will sew it together.” She looked up at me. “My son’s wife is a fine seamstress, but I am better.”

  “You would help?” Masalarn asked.

  “Yes,” Rutessain said.

  And I realized I had just been offered the best price, a very fair price. And so I counted out the rest of the coins. I checked twice. And then I said, “I need lessons. How do I put Ristassa there?”

  “She bought a horse from my sister,” Masalarn explained.

  “How do I steer? How do I stop?”

  “How do you go backwards without risking an accident,” Rutessain added.

  “Yes.” I pushed the coins towards her. “Please count. Sometimes I make mistakes.”

  She pulled the coins, counting carefully, and then smiled.

  I had just bought my very first vehicle. I grinned, ear to ear.

  * * * *

  It took another hour before I could leave. Rutessain wrote a bill of sale. With Masalarn’s help, we went through fabrics for my seat. I picked a rich shade of burgundy that Masalarn recommended. I thought it was going to be beautiful.

  By the time we were done, my new cabriolet was waiting out front. The harness and reins were in place, and the two women showed me how to put Ristassa into place. The horse seemed perfectly fine with the entire process. I went through everything myself, and recorded the entire conversation with my implant, so I could go back and review it.

  I asked questions, and the two women were very patient. Finally I hugged them both.

  Then it was time for Masalarn and me to climb in. She helped me lower the top, and then we backed the cabriolet up. Behind us, Rutessain hooked my borrowed horse and Masalarn’s horse so they would follow behind. And then Masalarn handed the reins to me.

  I’m fairly certain she didn’t need to wrap around me to help me learn, but we both giggled while she did it.