Chapter Twenty: Taverns, Sheep, and Ports
In which Ian strikes a bargain with Melik and bids goodbye to Connor.
Melik held up a hand, and Connor took his arm and pulled him to standing. He dusted off his black leathers and held out an arm to Ian. “Ethan. A pleasure.”
Ian clasped his arm, but his brain had stalled at the introduction. Ethan Cardig? Where did he come up with that? “Melik,” he said.
“Melik is Helene’s nephew,” Connor said. “He can get you to Barlena safely.”
Melik’s grin had a feral quality that gave Ian pause. “What’s your business in the capitol?”
Ian’s mouth opened and shut, and he cleared his throat. “I . . . I have . . . business there. With the . . . at court. For wool.”
Melik lifted an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”
Ian cleared his throat again. “Yes. Of course. I have contracts to negotiate for my business.”
Melik folded his arms. “Do you realize where you are? People don’t wear a lot of wool around here.”
“Says the man clad entirely in leather,” Connor said. He shrugged. “The army uses it. Weren’t you just telling me something about that, Ethan?”
Ian nodded. “Yes. For lining helmets. And breastplates.” He shifted his feet under Melik’s gaze. “The carpets, too—rugs. In the palace.”
Melik looked from Ian to Connor and back to Ian. “I see.” He raised one gloved hand to his throat. “I’d probably be able to plan our journey a lot better if we had something to drink. There’s another tavern just over there.” He pointed and walked toward the line of buildings across from the pier.
Connor and Ian fell in behind him. Ian grabbed Connor’s arm and lowered his voice. “A wool merchant? I know nothing about sheep.”
“I thought all Eiryan men knew about sheep.”
Ian twisted his mouth. “Your Taurin prejudices are showing.”
Connor stopped. He lowered his voice. “You need a reason to be here. I gave you one—a believable one that will get you close to men with money. You need an escort—I found you one, and he’s one who has ties to the court and can talk his way in if needs be.”
Ian folded his arms. “I don’t like this. I don’t like being someone I’m not.”
“Would you rather travel as an Eiryan prince and bring down the whole government on your head?” Connor shook his head. “Look, people will know by now that you’ve been traveling with Xian. He won’t be quiet about it. And if you don’t want to announce your presence to d’Tarjian and his captains on either side of the law, you’ll want to keep your head as low as possible. I suggest you find a way to talk in great detail about sheep and wool.” He started walking again.
Ian sighed. No good can come from this. He stepped in line behind Melik and Connor, trying to remember what his tutors had taught him about sheep. The street of the little Esparan port town offered too many distractions to his eye, though, and before long, thoughts of sheep dissipated like mists in a morning sun.
Maghara Harbor was, by all accounts, a fairly typical large port city. It contained the expected taverns, brothels, and gaming halls, and the pier smelled of fish, salt, old ropes, and stale canvas. Anywhere Ian turned back home, he could hear a smattering of Eiryan curses mixed into a steady stream of sailing commands barked in Taurin sprinkled with muttered responses in Esparan, Tal’Amuni, or some other foreign tongue. Though he hadn’t traveled as much as he wished yet, Ian suspected that he could sail into any large harbor anywhere in the world and feel at home.
Heva, the small Esparan town where he now walked, was as different from Maghara as a northern squall was from a southern breeze. Little pleasure boats came and went along the pebbled beach, and on the other side of the narrow spit, children ran in and out of the surf carrying treasured shells and bits of coral. Couples dressed in light silks and sandals lounged on marble terraces, sipping chilled veidara and feeding each other fruit and shellfish. The breeze off the ocean cooled the air and stirred the palms to whisper. Secrets and lies, he thought. If I could understand the whispers, what would I learn?
Melik opened the door to a public house called The Purple Reef and gestured the other men inside. They sat down at a small table in a corner, and Melik gestured to the man tending the bar. “So,” he said, turning to Connor and Ian. “Is this an interview, or am I already hired?”
Ian leaned forward. “Can you get me to Barlena within the week?”
Melik laughed. “Within the week? The emperor is so desperate for wool he needs to see you in a week?”
“I’m meeting a friend there. I’m already late.”
A serving girl approached with chilled veidara. She curtsied and set down three cups and a small pitcher. When she’d gone, Melik leaned forward and lowered his voice. “An urgent trip to meet a friend. It will cost more.”
“I have money,” Ian started.
Connor cleared his throat.
Ian stopped. “What’s your price?”
Melik sipped his drink and pursed his lips. “Just to take you there?”
“I need an escort in the city, too—someone who knows the court.”
The freelance nodded. “A hundred Esparan crowns. Plus expenses.”
Ian gaped. “A hundred—”
“Melik.” Connor’s voice cracked the air. He leaned forward. “Try again.”
Melik grimaced. “All right, fifty Esparan crowns. Plus expenses.”
Ian glanced at Connor. He gave a small nod. “Done,” Ian said, holding out his arm. “When can we go?”
Melik clasped his arm. “Just as soon as you buy me a meal and we find some horses.”
They ate a meal of olives, cured meats, flatbread, and the peculiar root paste Ian had never acquired a taste for. Ian paid the bill, and when the three men walked out onto the street, Connor turned to him. “Watch your purse and your back,” he said. “With Melik and at court. I wouldn’t trust him with my sister, but he can help you if you treat him well and pay for a few of his vices. Just don’t let him take advantage of you.”
Ian nodded. “What will you do?”
Connor shrugged and glanced toward the beach. “I might stay here for a few days. All of these noble families on holiday—someone will need an escort home.” He held out an arm. “Take care of yourself.”
Ian took the arm. “And you.”
Connor nodded once. He hoisted his pack on one shoulder, put a hand on his sword, and walked toward the beach.
Ian looked at Melik. “Lead the way.”