as the current Satrap’s debaucheries and the burgeoning slave-trade that might or might not be related to his head tax on the sale of slaves. There was long and fond reminiscence of their families, and deep discussion of Vivacia and her quickening, as if the ship were a shared grandchild. There was quiet discussion, too, of the influx of new folk to Bingtown, and the lands they were claiming and their efforts to gain seats on the Bingtown Council. This last threatened not only the Bingtown Traders, but the old compact between Bingtown and the Rain Wild Traders that kept them both safe.
The compact was a thing seldom spoken of. It was not discussed, in the same way that neither breathing nor death are topics for conversation. Such things are ever-present and inevitable. In a similar way, Caolwn did not speak to Ronica of the way grief had lined her face and silvered her hair, nor how the years had drawn down the flesh from her high cheekbones and tissued the soft flesh of her throat. Ronica forbore to stare at the scaly growths that threatened Caolwn’s eyesight, nor at the lumpy flesh that was visible even in the parting of her thick bronze hair. The kindness of the dimmed candles could soften but not obscure these scars. Like the pact, these were the visible wounds they bore simply by virtue of who they were.
They shared the steaming cups of tea and the savoury foods. The heavy silver implements ticked against the fine china whilst outside the summer’s night breeze stirred Ronica’s wind chimes to a silvery counterpoint to their conversation. For the space of the meal, they were neighbours sharing a genteel evening of fine food and intelligent conversation. For this, too, was a part of the pact. Despite the miles and differences that separated the two groups of settlers, both Bingtown Traders and Rain Wild Traders would remember that they had come to the Cursed Shore together, partners and friends and kin. And so they would remain.
So it was not until the food was finished and the women were sharing the last cup of cooled tea in the pot, not until the social conversation had died to a natural silence that the time came to discuss the final purpose of Caolwn’s visit. Caolwn took a deep breath and began the formality of the discussion. Long ago the Bingtown Traders had discovered that this was one way to separate business from pleasure. The change in language did not negate the friendship the women shared, but it recognized that in manners of business, different rules applied and must be observed by all. It was a safeguard for a small society in which friends and relatives were also one’s business contacts. ‘The liveship Vivacia has quickened. Is she all that was promised?’
Despite her recent grief, Ronica felt a genuine smile rise onto her face. ‘She is all that was promised, and freely do we acknowledge that.’
‘Then we are pleased to accept that which was promised for her.’
‘As we are pleased to tender it.’ Ronica took a breath and abruptly wished she had brought up the short measure earlier. But it would not have been correct nor fair to make that a part of their friendship. Hard as it was for her to speak it, this was the correct time. She groped for words for this unusual situation. ‘We acknowledge also that we owe you more at this time than we have been able to gather.’ Ronica forced herself to sit straight and meet the surprise in Caolwn’s lavender eyes. ‘We are a full two measures short. We would ask that this additional amount be carried until our next meeting, at which time I assure you we shall pay all that we owe then, and the two additional measures, plus one-quarter measure of additional interest.’
A long silence followed as Caolwn pondered. They both knew the full weight of Bingtown law gave her much leeway in what she could demand as interest for Ronica’s failed payment. Ronica was prepared to hear her demand as much as a full additional two measures. She hoped they would settle between a half and one measure. Even to come up with that much was going to tax her ingenuity to its limits. But when Caolwn did speak, the soft words chilled Ronica’s blood. ‘Blood or gold, the debt is owed,’ Caolwn invoked.
Ronica’s heart skipped in her chest. Who could she mean? None of the answers that came to her pleased her. She tried to keep the quaver out of her voice, she sternly reminded herself that a bargain was a bargain, but one could always try to better the terms. She took the least likely stance. ‘I am but newly widowed,’ she pointed out. ‘And even if I had had the time to complete my mourning, I am scarcely suitable to the pledge. I am too old to bear healthy children to anyone, Caolwn. It has been years since I even hoped I would bear another son to Ephron.’
‘You have daughters,’ Caolwn pointed out carefully.
‘One wed, one missing,’ Ronica quickly agreed. ‘How can I promise you that which I do not have the possession of?’
‘Althea is missing?’
Ronica nodded, feeling again that stab of pain. Not knowing. The greatest dread that any sea-going family had for its members. That some day one would simply disappear, and those at home would never know what became of them…
‘I must ask this,’ Caolwn almost apologized. ‘It is required of me, in duty to my family. Althea would not… hide herself, or flee, to avoid the terms of our bargain?’
‘You have to ask that, and so I take no offence.’ Nonetheless, Ronica was hard put to keep the chill from her voice. ‘Althea is Bingtown to the bone. She would die rather than betray her family’s word on this. Wherever she is, if she still lives, she is bound, and knows she is bound. If you choose to call in our debt, and she knows of it, she will come to answer for it.’
‘I thought as much,’ Caolwn acknowledged warmly. But she still went on implacably, ‘But you have a grand-daughter and grandsons as well, and they are as firmly bound as she. I have two grandsons and a grand-daughter. All approach marriageable age.’
Ronica shook her head, managed a snort of forced laughter. ‘My grandchildren are children still, not ready for marriage for years yet. The only one who is close to that age has sailed off with his father. And he is pledged to Sa’s priesthood,’ she added. ‘It is as I have told you. I cannot pledge you that which I do not possess.’
‘A moment ago, you were willing to pledge gold you did not yet possess,’ Caolwn countered. ‘Gold or blood, it is all a matter of time for the debt to be paid, Ronica. And if we are willing to wait and let you set the time to pay it, perhaps you should be more willing to let us determine the coin of payment.’
Ronica picked up her teacup and found it empty. She stood hastily. ‘Shall I put on the kettle for more tea?’ she inquired politely.
‘Only if it will boil swiftly,’ Caolwn replied. ‘Night will not linger for us to barter, Ronica. The bargain must be set soon. I am reluctant to be found walking about Bingtown by day. There are far too many ignorant folk, unmindful of the ancient bargains that bind us all.’
‘Of course.’ Ronica sat down hastily. She was rattled. She abruptly and vindictively wished that Keffria were here. By all rights, Keffria should be here; the family fortunes were hers to control now, not Ronica’s. Let her face something like this and see how well she would deal with it. A new chill went up Ronica’s spine; she feared she knew how Keffria would deal with it. She’d turn it over to Kyle, who had no inkling of all that was at stake here. He had no concept of what the old covenants were; she doubted that even if he were told, he’d adhere to them. No. He’d see this as a cold business deal. He’d be like those ones who had come to despise the Rain Wild folk, who dealt with them only for the profit involved, with no idea of all Bingtown owed to them. Keffria would surrender the fate of her whole family to Kyle, and he would treat it as if he were buying merchandise.
In the moment of realizing that, Ronica crossed a line. It was not easily done, for it involved sacrificing her honour. But what was honour compared to protecting one’s family and one’s word? If deceptions must be made and lies must be told, then so be it. She could not recall that she had ever in her life
