The Taleweaver
Change of plans

After thememorable trading session Arthur became something of a celebrityamong the local merchants. He also gained a lot of respect among histraveling companions, enough to be seen as a fellow trader.

During thethree months on the ship he'd been looked upon with a mixture of aweand distrust by the other traders. Creating a new market and making afortuneat the same time changed that.

Inten years of trading no one had thought of selling anythingbut the metal wanted here. That would change when news returned backto Earth. Well, it was only to be expected. Even leaving his old lifebehind him he was news in the making.

The daystook on a routine of their own with Harbend already waiting inArthur's living room when he woke but never sharing his breakfast.After that they'd go out and Harbend showed him various parts of thecity.

This daystarted no differently and by midmorning they sauntered past apeculiar building displaying an enormous entrance but almost nowindows. The first three floors were made of the smooth, white stoneArthur had come to expect, but above that another two wooden storiesrose, and he could see they were recently added.

Hecrossed the street passing nimbly between coaches running in bothdirections. Coming to the sidewalk Arthur peered acrossthe street to get a better view of the strange building.

"Splendidconstruction, eh?" Harbend said, coming up to his side.

"Youknow what it is?"

"Theater.The finest there is. They change the top floors for each play.Something to do with decor, but I would not know. Never been into thebusiness myself. Have you?"

Arthurbasked in the thoughts of immersing himself in the fantasies createdby an author from another world and didn't listen to Harbend's lastquestion.

"Haveyou?" he repeated.

"Oh,not really. Yes, in a way, but not with a famous script, or no,that's not entirely true. I've never been part of an ensemble or hada major role in a play if that's what you ask."

Harbend gavehim a surprised stare in return. He apparently hadn't expected suchan elaborate answer. "I could get us an invitation."

"Yes,yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you, please, if it's possible."

"You dorealize you probably shall fail to understand the play?"

"Iknow. It doesn't matter," Arthur answered, still spellbound bythe opportunity of being part of an audience rather than standing inthe limelight.

They spentmost of the day obtaining clothes more suitable for a visit to thetheater. That meant Harbend leading Arthur to different tailors,leaving him with the instructions to say nothing and move whateverbody parts the tailor wanted moved, while running away on errands ofhis own.

When Arthurwas left to the all too personal manhandling by the fifth tailor inquick succession his temper began to turn ugly, and he forcedHarbend, when he finally returned, to explain what was going on.

"Theyare tailors. Unlike you outworlders we do not have warehouses whereprospective customers can wander in and choose some clothes neverfitting properly anyway."

"Iunderstand that," Arthur responded testily and tried to pretendhe didn't feel the hands taking measures of his legs. "But whydo you have to drag me around half the city like this?"

Harbendstared back in surprise. "I told you magic is banned in Keen."

Arthurdidn't understand. "So?" The hands neared his crotch and hebarely avoided a twitch.

"Gods!You want me to bring you to the theater this evening. As a trader youof anyone ought to be familiar with the logistical phenomena ofproduction time."

Understandingfinally dawned on Arthur. "And they each make one piece?"

Harbenddeclined to answer the question.

Harbend ledhis client through a maze of narrow streets. He had one last errandto finish before he could devote himself to preparing Arthur for theevening.

They cutthrough the southern parts of Verd choosing a route he'd never shownArthur before, and there was good reason for it Harbend thoughtgrimly. Magical wonder of the world or not, the city still had itspoor majority. Right from the planning of it, thousands of yearsearlier an emperor, more practical than idealistic, had ordered itbuilt with just that in mind.

The fewboulevards here were not laid out for beauty but to contain firesshould they occur. The streets between them were narrow and crowdedwith loudmouthed, uncouth people, animals and the occasional cart,all smelly and all dirty. The very buildings were darker, gray ratherthan the granite red and marble white that was the hallmark of thecapital. The streets themselves were flawlessly clean though. Thiswas Verd after all.

Harbendrecalled Nachi, his own faraway capital. Larger than Verd and withaccess to several of the finest magehealers Khi had educated. Dirteverywhere despite a huge workforce employed to transport theunwanted garbage out of the city, dumping it on stinking pilesburning perpetually.

No matterhow many magehealers made their living there death tolls fromdiseases were always greater than what he'd seen in Verd during hisyears here. Only the rich lived longer in Khi, but then Verd had nomagehealers to ease the dangers of advanced age.

Eventuallyhe dragged a bewildered Arthur from yet another narrow street to theopen place just inside the southern gates. Krante Gates, referring toa large town an eightdays days ride or so to the southeast,attributing more of its fame to legend than any advantageousattractions it had to offer now.

Farmers werebringing in their wares through the gates. Mostly food of differentkinds but also bales of linen, leather and wood that would eventuallyreplace their way to craftsmen who would turn it into clothes, shoes,furniture and a mass of other items to be sold here.

A squadronof the Holy Inquisition in red and black made their way through thegates cheered on by children staring wide eyed at the display, and alarger infantry unit, all in yellow, waited for their turn to marchin the opposite direction.

Theregiments prepared to vacate the exercise grounds south of the gates,and soon the last of the soldiers would be sent out to help withharvesting, infantry and cavalry alike.

Stables westof the gates, the only buildings almost perpetually dirty despite themagic of Verd, waited for the only eightdays during the year whenthey were clean and used as storage in preparation for the greatmarket marking the end of summer. With only Inquisition troops andthe Imperial Guard left in the city it would take on an almostunnatural absence of uniforms.

Arthurtrailing his steps Harbend walked straight to the enclosed area whereevery visitor was searched for magic and followed the road to theouter gates. One of the few places where he wasn't pestered bypeddlers wanting to make a customer of him. As always during daytimethe gates were open and he passed under the archway and startedsearching for the female courier he knew would be waiting. Ah, thereshe was. He ran between a few carts to meet her and gave her a smallpackage.

"ToHasselden as usual. It should cover their expenses the coming threeeightdays. Send my best wishes."

"As youcommand, sir." She turned her horse and rode down the road.

Harbendstared after her as she headed for the western leg of the highway.With the money he made from selling Arthur's books maybe, just maybehe'd be able to send enough to last half a year rather than a feweightdays.

He'd haveabandoned his office in Hasselden years earlier, but honor demandedotherwise. Winter storms forcing prey close enough to the coast forsea hunters to catch made it possible to keep it. The tender meatalone covered much of the expenses of a business no longer visited bytraders from Khi. Much, but far from all.

"Now,my dear Arthur, we should have the rest of the day to ourselves,"he said turning to his client who, he knew, by now was building uphis frustration again. "For my store in Hasselden, and myemployees running it for me."

"Isee," Arthur said, and Harbend noted how the mountingfrustration was gone in an instant.

Goodman, he thought. Theoutworlder obviously knows the importance of taking care of his own.

Harbendmade to return through the gates and caught himself smiling. "Arthur,I thank you for your patience. You must be starving. Let me show youthe difference between a tavern and a restaurant, with you searchingfor dining halls early in the mornings and all."

Arthur'sstomach rumbled in agreement and they were about to return when hepointed. "What's that?"

Harbendpeered at the construction above the gates. Enormous square framesdraped with cloth, linen he knew, painted either black or yellow."That is the farwriter."

"Farwriter?Sounds familiar." Arthur squinted as he looked up in the air."Oh, it's a telegraph!"

"Telegraph?"Now it was Harbend's turn to be confused.

"Sameword, different origin. Telegraph is the correct one though,"Arthur explained.

Harbenddigested this as they watched one set of frames being taken downwhile another was winched up, displaying a different pattern ofyellow and black.

Arthurslowly turned, but Harbend, anticipating it, stopped him.

"Noidea." Harbend grinned. "You need to be standing on thebattlements, and you need a..." He searched for the word, "ateleviewer."

"Telescope."Arthur laughed suddenly. "Far seer! Well why not? Makes sense Iguess. Now, Harbend, my stomach and I would very much like to seethis restaurant of yours. How far is it?"

"Someone hundred lamps or so."

"Lamps?"

"Yes...oh sorry. Local measurement of distance. Took me a while to get usedto as well. All lamp posts are placed at equal distance along roadsand streets."

"Isee," Arthur said and started examining two nearby lampposts.

"Onelamp should be around forty or fifty of your meters," Harbendanswered the unspoken question. "Too long for a hungry walkanyway. I shall get us a coach."

Well insidethe gates they started for the main boulevard when Harbend wassuddenly pushed aside. He staggered and when he found his balanceagain he stared into the face of an officer in the yellow and greenof the Free Inquisition. He was about to retrace his steps when theman grabbed his shirt and pulled him close.

"Watchwhere you go you bastard!" the officer growled.

Harbendtried to pull free, but to no avail.

"Not sobrave are you now?" another soldier laughed. "Should havestayed home in Khi where you don't trouble decent people."

"Andthe meaning of this outrage?" Harbend asked hiding the mixtureof anger and fear rising within.

"Noneed we have of magic loving whores your kind thief of food fromstarving children," a third answered, accent and grammardeclaring him a former citizen of magic loving Ira.

Themost dangerous kind. Anger gave way and left fear asuncontested ruler of his mind. Outcasts turned fanatics were alwayswelcome to join the Free Inquisition, and here he was surrounded bythe very unit Arthur had humiliated at the sky port.

"...devil take them or I'll start breaking arms," Arthur's voiceshot in and the sudden need to translate the meaning of outworlderwords snapped Harbend out of his rising panic.

"Justangry soldiers," he said. Relief flooded him as he recognizedthe protection of Arthur's presence, then only stunned disbelief asthe soldier from Ira drew and attacked the outworlder trader. Timeslowed as he watched the saber descending.

No sound, nosmell, only a bitter taste of metal in his mouth, and then Arthursliding towards the soldier in a fluid motion ending only when he wastoo close for the bladed weapon to be of any use. Grabbing the swordarm with both hands Arthur twisted, forced the soldier up, around anddown in a vicious circle ending with an ugly, meaty sound as he camecrashing down on the street face first.

There wassilence.

Arthurcontinued moving across the prone body.

Silence gaveway to a horrible, cracking sound as he forced the arm over the backof the soldier, and then only a shrill scream of pain.

Timereturned to normal.

"Oh,sorry, didn't mean that," Arthur gasped as the arm fell limplyto the ground, sword clattering out of reach.

Oh,he just lost balance, understanding dawned on Harbend, andthen used the arm as leverage to avoid falling over.Harbend had wondered, and now he was gratefully convinced that therich and mighty of the outworlders received at least some propertraining befitting men of their station.

He stared atthe fallen soldier, numbly noticing the Staff master doing the same,and in the meantime a crowd slowly gathered.

"Go!This is a matter for the Inquisition," the officer ordered.

The crowd,more fascinated than afraid, slowly started to disperse.

Bad,very bad! They pretend we're mages and we're in trouble.

"Halt!"A different voice this time.

"Goscrew your horse!" the Staff master responded.

Harbenddared turning. A staff displaying the winged swords of mountedinfantry rose into the air. Dragoons, only found in Keen, and withharvest festival only eightdays away Harbend didn't need to identifythe insignia to recognize the presence of the Imperial Guard.

"I'llconfer those words to the council, no, better yet, you shall do so,"the newcomer said, and now Harbend could see a graying officer ridingup beside the standard bearer. "Escort our uniformed guests tothe gate."

A growlingmurmur of laughter followed by the clattering of hooves announcedmore soldiers making ready to obey the order to round up Inquisitiontroops. There was no love between Imperial Guard and Free Inquisition-- only the Holy Inquisition held their foreign counterpart moreopenly in contempt.

Harbend letout a long sigh accepting that they were safe.

"Anywitnesses?" the officer demanded, and at that the crowd meltedaway. No one was interested in wasting half a day waiting for aquestioning.

"I sawwhat happened," someone shouted from behind the horses.

Andof course the singular idiot to prove you wrong, Harbendmused. He raised his face to his rescuer, but the graying officer wassearching for whoever had volunteered.

"Oh,you." Turning his stare back to Harbend the officer smiledthinly. "You should leave unless you have a statement to bringbefore the council."

Harbendblinked. The officer didn't move. Unwilling to push his luck Harbendgrabbed Arthur's arm and led the bewildered trader in search of apublic coach.

Arthurrecognized the uniformed monkeys from the day of his arrival, butaccustomed to long years of benefits given to the famous he paidlittle heed to the twist of fortune allowing them to leave a scene ofviolence in which he'd taken part. He did expect Harbend to explainor explode, but as the merchant declined to do either during theirride to the restaurant Arthur decided to leave the episode in silenceas well, and it wasn't long until they reached their destination.

Whateverhe'd expected this wasn't it. Deeply hidden among great villas in thefar northwest of Verd, where the very rich lived, a building crouchedin a tree covered garden.

Walkingnearer he saw that the trees closest to the walls were no trees atall but the work of artisans of almost unimaginable skills. Fastenedto the branches, high above them and hugging the trunk of each tree asmall brown, wooden cottage with thatched roof seemed to grow as partof the tree itself. Slender bridges of what looked like crystalconnected the cottages to an open platform on the roof of the mainbuilding, almost like a terrace, but Arthur couldn't see much of itfrom where he stood on the pathway.

He smiled inwonder and was still smiling as they entered the building.

Harbend hadalways enjoyed coming here from the very first time he was invitedyears earlier. Not only was it quaint in extreme but the artificialseclusion also allowed him to forget the noisy city for an afternoon,and this one had been busier than he cared for.

Gratefulthat the partial immunity clinging to the outworlders had extended tohimself this time he wanted to celebrate his luck in style. Heintended to show Arthur how civilized men enjoyed their meals.

Even thoughthey had certainly eaten together the past few days they still hadnever dinedtogether. He'd been forced to watch Arthur simply approach thenearest stand selling roast fowl, or meat and once even a bland soup.Harbend, unwilling to let his client look like a fool, then had tobuy himself something as well and eat it standing on the sidewalklike a simple laborer.

They chosethe westernmost tree cottage he preferred and entered its singleroom, a table already laid with sweet fruit, chilled water and thincrisps of white bread awaited them.

The cottageswere of different size. One large enough to host ten diners, but mostbuilt to accommodate four. The walls surrounding them glimmered withblue and green as if they were sitting in an open forest a summerday. Whatever magic magecrafters had wrought here all those years agobefore they were banned still worked its charm making him feelgenuinely welcome and wanted.

Arthurstared in amazement and Harbend enjoyed the childlike happinesssparkling in his eyes. If Arthur was so easily moved by simply cominghere there was little doubt he would be thoroughly happy when theyhad eaten.

They atetheir dinner in silence broken only by the muted sounds of steps whena servant brought in a new course, and this was repeated two moretimes. At the end only Harbend, who knew what to expect, had enoughof an appetite left to truly give the last course justice.

"Thisis better than street food, eh?" he said when the last of theirplatters was finally carried out. They were left with a crystalgoblet each and one bottle of red wine, a vintage Harbend had chosencarefully.

"Heaven!"Arthur sighed. Childish happiness spread over his face, and suddenlythe outworlder looked twenty years younger.

"Truly,I cannot abide by the things you have had the misfortune to mistakefor a proper meal. You have a stomach like a millstone."

Arthur,apparently misunderstanding the friendly barb, got serious at once."We have magic of our own where I come from. At least I believethe field of medicine we call genetics would be like magic to you. Icould probably digest anything short of a synthetic poison withlittle ill effects."

Harbendcarefully analyzed what he had just heard. "Do not explain thisgenetics of yours. I will probably fail to understand. However, whatdoes synthetic mean?"

Arthurlooked back, smiled and explained. "By the way, I expected tosee more people with swords, other than the soldiers that is."

Harbendfrowned at the memory of their encounter with the Inquisition. Well,it wouldn't do lingering. "You all say that when you come herethe first time. I fail to understand where you got the notion."Harbend raised an open palm to indicate peace. "No civilizedcity allows everyone to carry weapons. Brawls would get dirty. Onlysoldiers are allowed to have them. Now, what constitutes as soldiersmay vary between cities, of course."

Arthurseemed to be content with the answer. He merely sipped more of hiswine to allow Harbend the next question.

Harbendgrabbed the opportunity. "Now, something I should have asked thefirst outworlder trader I represented. Your days are shorter thanours I have heard. Is that not a problem for you, or is it solved bythis genetics of yours?"

Arthurlaughed and put down his goblet on the table. "Interesting idea,but I'm afraid the answer is far simpler." He looked thoughtfulfor a while. "It takes many, eh, eightdays, to journey here. Theship has no windows so all light inside is artificial. During thejourney from Earth to here they make each day a little bit longerthan the previous."

"Ishould have guessed." Howelegantly simple. "Almost a pity it was not one ofyour technological wonders though."

They spentthe rest of the afternoon there, comparing notes about thingsunimportant, both of them carefully avoiding any topic of potentialdanger. Neither of them told enough to compromise their positions andboth told more than they were aware of, which is the natural way ofsharing words in the company of fine wines. When the bottle wasempty, and another as well, Harbend ordered a coach and they returnedto Two Worlds. He told the driver to wait for Arthur.

Harbend madesure Arthur's new clothes had been delivered and went to the closestbathhouse while Arthur prepared himself in privacy.

The entrancehall was filled with people, all dressed up for the evening, butArthur didn't recognize any of them. He was among people withoutHarbend to translate for him for the first time since his arrival andfelt a bit handicapped.

He hadrushed to the theater to enjoy some solitude for a while, but now itdidn't seem such a good idea any longer. The crowded entrance washardly a place to be alone in. Then he saw a familiar face and pushedhis way to the stairs where the man was standing, muttering excusesno one would understand to anyone he pushed aside.

"Arthur?What a pleasant surprise."

"I wasabout to say the same, William," Arthur admitted. "Beginningto feel like an idiot."

He gaveWilliam Anderson a long glance. Like almost all Martians he was talland thin, as if the lower gravity there made humans soar when theygrew. He had taken to wearing local clothes, short, yellow jacket andred trousers both sporting pink details to honor his origins.

The man wasa professional trader, one of the few true adventurers who made aliving from trading with Otherworld. Famous enough for Arthur once todedicate an entire holo show episode to the daredevil's slightlyillicit pursuit of a trading license, and he didn't know how Williamwould take this attempt at striking up a conversation.

"Stronglegs," Arthur tried, suddenly at a lack for anything else tosay. Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished themunsaid.

Damn,facing a person isn't always as easy as facing the camera.

Williamstraightened his blue, silken coat and grinned.

"Spendmost of my time on ships and very little planet side on Mars.Wouldn't be able to stand Earth otherwise."

Arthursmiled thinly in response. He didn't have anything to talk about, andhinting that clumsily at the difference in gravity between Mars andEarth was impolite enough to make him feel like an idiot.

"Don'tworry. No affront." William chuckled at Arthur's discomfort."Feeling alone are we? I've been here dozens of times and stillfeel shut out."

"Youtell me," Arthur agreed recalling the days that had passed. "Howmuch of their language do you understand?"

"Verylittle. Enough to make myself understood and to get a general feelingabout what they're talking about, but not much more." Williammoved aside to allow an old man in blue and green to climb thestairs.

Arthurthought about what William had said. Harbend was always there totranslate, and only Arthur's interest in anything having to do withlanguage made him pick up bits here and there. He looked at Williamonly to meet a wide grin.

"You'rea fast one, aren't you?" William said. "Can almost see thewheels spinning in your head. Wasn't until my fifth visit here Iunderstood they're deliberately keeping us away from other people."He raised a glass of wine, sipped a little and continued: "Yes,we're led around and meet people, but the merchants here do all thetalking for us."

"That'sbloody awful!"

"That'ssound," William retorted flatly. "This way they control ourmovements and if we stray we can't communicate with anyone anyway.That's the real reason we can't bring any communicators here, or atleast the result of that ban."

Arthurlooked at the man with new respect. There was something still untold.

"Butyou've found a way around it?"

"Sureas hell I have." William laughed. "To begin with I neverask for a specific house. That way I'll be represented by differentpeople every time I'm here."

"Whywould you want that?" Arthur wondered.

A liveriedservant passed with a platter containing dried fruit and Arthurmutely accepted one and sent the woman away with a nod.

"Becausethen they won't learn my habits." William paused to swallow thepiece he'd grabbed for himself. "Always hire an extra translatorwho doesn't belong to any of the trading houses here, and I intend tokeep that a secret for as long as I can."

"How'sthat possible?"

"Merchantsare not omniscient. May seem so to us, but they're not. Keen has asystem of houses for all kinds of business. One for making weapons,one for writing and printing books and so on."

"Guilds."

"Guessyou could call them that. I'm a trader, not a historian. Word'sfamiliar to me, but it's ancient history anyway."

Arthurlaughed. "Important history for the likes of us, but I won'tpursue the matter any further."

William gavehim a quizzical look and shrugged. "Whatever. Anyway, there's amoney trader's house, or there has to be more than one, but one Iknow of. They're not part of the trading houses but run their owninternal system." William made as if to let Arthur squeeze in aquestion.

"Go on,I'm listening."

"Verywell. As such they're cut off from any direct contact with us. Atleast they were until I lucked out and got in contact with one ofthem." William paused and looked thoughtful. "I've got thegold and silver they're interested in and they've got the alternativesource of information I'm interested in. Don't think they'll sell meout."

Arthurpondered the information for a while and shook William's hands. "I'dvery much enjoy your company at a later day as well. I've been showna truly marvelous restaurant and if you wish we could dine therelater."

"Takeit your Harbend's arriving here now." William nodded at theentrance and Arthur looked over his own shoulder.

"You'recorrect. I live at Two Worlds. You can reach me there. I suspectyou'd prefer not to be recognized by Harbend here."

Williamgrinned in agreement, returned Arthur's handshake and climbed thestairs leaving Arthur to his own thoughts. He strode to the entrancewith a newborn awareness and met Harbend just inside the great doors.

"Thereyou are, Arthur. I hope the waiting was not too tedious for you,"Harbend greeted him. "There are some people here I absolutelymust introduce you to," he continued and led Arthur away to anelderly couple standing by a marble statue at the edge of a smallfountain.

Arthurfollowed him and enjoyed the charade with new eyes.

Halfway intothe play the motions of the actors stirred memories in him, andArthur stumbled from their loge muttering a lie about an intensiveheadache caused by too much sunshine.

He found acorner where he could hide, racking in sobs. When his head cleared alittle, and he was able to lock the emotions inside him again, hefound the small fountain he'd seen in the foyer. It took him anotherfew minutes to wash his face and when he returned the play was almostover.

Harbend saidnothing except expressing his sympathy for Arthur's bad luck andhastily added some polite nonsense about the dangers of having a coldbath after a warm day. It was all too evident that Harbend suspectedsomething but was also too well mannered to say anything about it,and they both spent an awkward time waiting for the play to finish.

They leftquickly, only pausing to allow Harbend to exchange polite words withsome dignitaries interested in the presence of an outworlder andparted ways at Arthur's hotel.

Thefollowing morning when Harbend, true to their morning ritual,suggested a visit to the battlements, Arthur, remembering hisconversation with William the night before, feigned tiredness andreceived Harbend's best wishes in return. He deliberately made theentire scene as uncomfortable as possible by being uncommonly silent.Playing on Harbend's obvious unwillingness to dwell on neither theassault nor the failed visit at the theater the previous evening itwas all too easy. There wasn't anything to say, and he watched asHarbend simply closed the door on his way out.

Arthur hadmade up his mind and he decided to stroll around Verd on his own tolearn more about the city by himself. The tours he'd been given thisfar had been just a little bit too convenient.

Harbendopened the door to his small office and called on the main lights.He'd chosen quarters in the western, older parts of the city, and thebuildings here showed their heritage by displaying narrow slitsrather than the more modern wide windows that allowed more daylightin. The slits were glassed of course. An addition to all old housesseveral hundreds of years earlier, but one that increased the needfor lamps.

He'd boughtseveral oil lamps in order to be able to work during evenings whenthe main lights didn't quite suffice. Late work was a must here wherethe days grew considerably shorter during winter.

The roomswere generally smaller in this part of the city as well, designedduring an age when defense was more important than luxury. Great warshad raged then, some almost reaching the city itself when it was buta fortified display of power, a provincial capital when Keen wasstill part of an ancient empire now long gone.

Harbend usedto feel the shadow of that empire looming closer when Hasselden washis center of operations. From there ships could take him to thesouthern tip of the Ming peninsula in a day or two, and visitingtraders sometimes still boasted of MingHjil de Vhat and La, the ancient capitals from where emperorshad ruled all of the northern world.

Now all thatremained of the twin capitals were an insignificant fishing town tothe far north on the peninsula and a mass of haunted ruins on theisthmus, the latter half a day's ride from a small town usurping thename of the once great city.

But hewasn't in Hasselden now. He was standing in his office in Verd, andsounds came from a back room that should have been quiet. He roundedhis desk and made his way through the doorway to replace out who hadintruded on his privacy.

The sightmade his heart jump.

"Uncle!And Horse-lord Kanir, what a pleasant surprise!" They staredback at him in disdainful incomprehension and he caught himself.Quickly he repeated himself in his native tongue.

"Youhave been here long indeed when you greet your family in such a harshlanguage." The words carried a barb, but Harbend could see theaffection shining in his uncle's eyes. He looked old, but then he'dalways seemed old to Harbend. Beardless now, but with long, whitehair. He'd become thinner as well since Harbend last saw him.

RamdarGarak, Harbend's uncle, was by far the oldest of three brothers andas such head of their family and therefore responsible for leadingthe noble line. He already had two married sons securing thecontinuity of the line.

Thesensation of listening to words spoken in Khi filled Harbend withjoy. Years had passed since he last had a chance to hear it.

"Youare right, of course. I apologize most deeply for my bad manners."Harbend bowed, as was expected from him.

When he rosehe saw the horse-lord still keeping his steely gaze. A hard man inhis fifties he commanded all cavalry under the noble line of theGarak family, a line Harbend was more than satisfied he wasn't partof. Vildir Kanir wore the long leather coat coming with his position,and he'd worn it for as long as Harbend could remember. Horse-lordKanir was large, large the way a predator loomed over its prey beforestriking, and Harbend assumed he had very little fat hidden under theclothes. There was gray in his black hair now though, and new linesstreaked his face. Change came even to this pillar of stability.

"Whendid you arrive, and how?" Harbend asked.

"Wesailed for Rhuin. They still keep their coasts clear with the help ofNijan and us, but there we learned that the only way north was byland. We were fortunate enough to buy passage in Ira."

"Ira?"Harbend drew a mental map. It didn't make sense. "But thecaravan route from there to Kastari takes ages!"

"Wedidn't join a caravan."

"Buthow... Oh. But you abhor the jump towers"

"Yes."The old man smiled. "I was sick for days after we arrived inChach, but we made a season's worth of travel in a day." Thefrown on Ramdar's face belied his tone of satisfaction. "Thencrossing the Narrow Sea," he continued, and Harbend could almostsee the worry they must have felt when taking the dangerous sea routewith westerners roaming virtually unchecked. "The roads on thisside are fantastic so we sold our horses and paid for the use of atruly excellent coach service. From Chach to Verd in less than amoon. I would not have believed it possible had I not traveled thepart myself," Ramdar finished, and there was real wonder in theold man's face.

Harbendalready knew about the network of roads so he was more interested inthe implications for such a journey.

"Now Iknow how you madeyour way here, but please enlighten me as to why."

"Thereis something you ought to know." Ramdar sat down on a bench inthe back of the room and Harbend, guessing the news could be nothingbut bad, did the same. Only Vildir remained standing.

"Tellme."

"We arehere on behalf of your father, but there is more to it so I hadbetter start at the beginning. Our family is very large for a minorfamily, too large, and it has been for the last two generations."

"I wasnever told," Harbend said surprised.

"Deliberatelyso," Ramdar said. "We are making a bid for full clanstatus."

Harbend wasmute. He'd expected bad news, maybe even the news of his father'sdeath, but this piece of information rocked his world.

"TheRikar family is undermining your father's economy," Ramdarcontinued relentlessly.

That pieceof information made sense, painfully so. The noble line of a merefamily couldn't be seen transferring resources to the lesser lines,but a clan failing to help each of its families would lose their clanstatus.

"But,uncle, each clan must symbolize something unique, something thatbreaks with tradition, and we fail to... Oh, no, you are notseriously..."

"I amvery much so. Your father has known all along. That is the reasonyour restless mind was never disciplined. That is why you have beenallowed to play the merchant half a continent away from your home."

Harbend wastoo astonished to feel cheated of what he had believed to be theresult of his firm determination and not part of an elaborate plan."What do you expect me to do?" he whispered.

"Whenyou made your intentions clear I started to read about Keen and howpolitics work here." Ramdar gave Harbend a warm smile. "Youmight have forced the issue and traveled here even if I had not foundout what I did." Ramdar sighed slowly. "You were always theimpatient one, but as it turned out I did replace a use for your wishes.I want you to found a trading house."

"Withwhat funds?" Harbend asked, still far to surprised to be angry.The resentment would come later.

"Haveyou not made funds of your own?"

"Yes,but the last four years have been ghastly. My skills at trading havebarely enabled me to pay for my store in Hasselden and my officehere. The raiders..."

"Thatwas bad news, very bad news. I do not accuse you of the westerndevils' doing. I know better than that, but you should know your linefaces execution should your father go bankrupt."

Harbenddidn't need telling. He'd studied more of the politics in Khi thanhis uncle knew. Normally bankruptcy was a disgrace, but for a familymaking such a bid for power there would be no excuses. Khi had no usefor a clan only managing to gain power but failing to wield itwisely. Ramdar had been kind enough not to tell all of it. Harbend'sfather and sister would meet the gallows, but not until after everyliving member of the noble line was hunted down and killed.

Harbendstared at both of his visitors. He didn't know what to think. Finallyhis anger caught up with him and he wondered what had really happenedto make Ramdar play the desperate game. Still, loyalty to familyovershadowed anything else, and Harbend knew his raging wouldn't helpthem. Then an idea formed out of memory, one that would give them away out while still allowing him a stinging retort.

"Itwould seem there are those who think I have overstayed my welcomehere, and combined with your journey it gives me an idea. I do notknow if it will work, and if it does, our entire family will beindebted to a stranger," he said silently. The smile he kept forhimself.

"Thatis an unacceptable disgrace and a breach with all our family standsfor," Horse-lord Kanir said, breaking his silence for the firsttime and swallowing Harbend's bait whole.

"Yes,that would definitely shine in stark opposition to all our values,"Harbend said looking at his uncle. They sat in silence for a whilestaring at each other and then Ramdar laughed loudly.

"Gods!You are learning already. Your father has much to be proud of. Now,tell me more about this stranger of yours."

For thefirst time in years Harbend locked his office going out. Burglarieswere almost unheard of in Keen, but the waiting relatives had himdeciding against leaving his home open to anyone who wanted to enter.Making it a habit to leave it locked in the future was an easy way toavoid unnecessary surprises, he thought, coming up to a womanstanding behind a cart. Harbend almost passed her by, but driven by asudden impulse he halted and reversed his steps ending up in front ofthe woman selling flowers.

She couldhave been his own age, maybe a few years older, sun tanned face andhands. She stood on the sidewalk, a pallet behind her for when therewere no potential customers in sight, and the cart still half fullwith flowers of different colors and sizes. This close the mixedscents were overwhelming.

"Flowerssir?"

"Yes.Long ones. One red, one blue and one white." He pointed at theflowers he wanted, not knowing their names.

She lookedup and squinted at him. His singing accent gave him away as aforeigner more clearly than his dark complexion. "A girl waitingfor you, eh?" she teased, all business again.

"No, aman."

She glareddisapprovingly at him.

Harbendstepped aside momentarily to give way for a passing couple. "WhereI come from we sometimes buy flowers just to show respect."

She frownedand squinted at Harbend again. He realized she must be nearsighted.

"I'msorry, sir. I shouldn't have assumed. He a foreigner just like you?"she asked.

"Yes,yes he is," Harbend said thoughtfully, and without knowing whyhe bothered telling this stranger on the street, he continued barelyaudibly: "but most of all he is a very lonely man."

Arthur satwaiting in the restaurant he'd made his second home. He'd evenmanaged to get a private cottage for two by himself. Most of thewords and expressions he knew came from the world of merchants, andthe amused response from the servant told him he'd probably tried tobuy a room measuring two standard Terran units or something equallyhilarious.

Harbendwanted to meet him here for a purpose that apparently couldn't waitanother day. Otherwise he'd simply have waited for Arthur to finishhis breakfast next morning as usual.

There was acertain appealing touch to the habit of serving diners their meals inseparate rooms. Arthur had never thought of it before, being used tothe large dining halls on Earth. Of course he knew of the custom, butit was more a local color adding spice to the experience of someregions and most commonly found in Japan, but nowhere as elaborate ashere. He hadn't expected to replace a place like this in a surrealversion of a fairytale Vienna indefinitely placed somewhere in time amillennium or so earlier.

He wasdrumming his fingers on the table when Harbend arrived with a fewflowers in his hand. He looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept welland Arthur worried about what could have changed him so sincemorning. He was sure to bring some dire news. That, however, toArthur's great joy, was not what happened.

A cool andclear morning greeted him, with the worst of the heatwave abated.During the night rain had put glittering jewels for the morning sunto play on in the streets, and the air was fresher than in days.

Now Harbendsat in the trading hall waiting for the traditional eightday meetingto start. It had to be done this day. The next meeting would bededicated to handling any complaints before the outworlder tradersdeparted and to assign those who would represent the traders arrivingnext.

Merchantsstarted to arrive, not as many as an eightday earlier, and when thefour finally arrived less than half of the places along the wallswere occupied.

"Arethere any matters to be resolved involving all of us present today?"

That was hiscue. "I have come here with a request to be accepted as a fullhouse." A low murmur filled the hall and the other merchantslooked at each other in apprehension.

"It'snot often we have the honor to bear witness to the founding of a newhouse." This time it was the oldest of the four who made hisvoice heard. "Would the sponsor please step forward?" Nowall the merchants present looked around, searching for who among themhad agreed to sponsor a foreign merchant's founding a new house.

"Youare aware that youneed a sponsor?" The old man's voice showed clear surprise atthe absence of a sponsor.

Harbend wasthe only one anticipating the shadow falling over the doorway androse. "My sponsor is Arthur Wallman."

An outcrycame from the bench opposing Harbend, and a tall woman, the same ageas Harbend rose. "This is an outrage. Everyone knows that onlythose representing a house may sponsor a new."

Almostimmediately two men rose, one of them resembling a darker version ofHarbend and the other ebony skinned with curly hair the color ofterracotta. "That is a lie," the latter said.

"But..."It was clear the woman saw how she was losing ground almost at theonset. "But that was almost a hundred years ago."

"Areyou saying we do not represent a proper trading house each?"

"No, noof course not."

Harbendsmiled. Thank you for thathelp. He well knew how two merchant families, one fromKhanati and one from Rhuin, had put aside the enmity grown fromperpetual wars fought between their countries, and, shocking themerchants of Keen, sponsored each other.

"Then,Harbend Garak, please proceed." Old Master de Verd again.

"No! Irefuse to see this happen! He's an outworlder," the womanyelled.

"Youknow that the law only requires the sponsor to be a merchant, andArthur Wallman has indeed sold his wares in this very hall."

The womansat down staring sullenly at the black man closer to their fourleaders. Then she gave Harbend a dark look and a cunning glimmerreached her eyes.

"So beit, but by the same law he must personally make it clear that this iswhat he wishes and that he hasn't been coerced into the sponsorship."

Harbendblinked.

Whatis she planning now? Then truth dawned on him and herealized that if he as much as said a single word now his requestwould fall.

Arthur stoodbetween the lines of benches listening to angry voices bouncingbetween the walls, desperately trying to catch the meaning of thequarrel. That he was playing a part was clear, even what part. Almostas quickly as the shouting had started it subsided and he turned toHarbend.

"Ihereby make it clear for each and everyone that I will stand assponsor for Harbend Garak. I also declare that this is of my ownwish, and that I intend to pay the fee requested only because Ipersonally want to do so; because it amuses me to play this prank onyou." They had agreed upon the last part to make his declarationsound a little more personal.

He waitedfor Harbend's translation but none came.

Whatthe hell now? No explanation from Harbend who only rigidlystared at the woman who'd started the row. Something was amiss, butwhat?

Arthurstarted sorting through the memories of their planning. Slowly heguessed the reason for the silence in the hall. Only a guess, but ithad to do.

"Housede Garak ... Harbend called welcome... Arthur Wallman, I... ,"He faltered. "I trade standard unit... buy Harbend de Garak Iwish and... wholly satisfied thereby," he continued rememberingthe phrase used when a deal was struck.

Damn,I can't run a good show without knowing the language. Simply doesn'twork that way. Bloody awkward failing to master what I should dobest.

He fellsilent. The old man facing him grinned almost exploding with anger.No, not anger. He was laughing so hard he was shaking and Arthur hadmisunderstood it for wrath.

Harbendcouldn't believe what he was hearing. The grammar was awful to saythe least, and the pronunciation had a strange singing quality as ifspoken by someone... He blushed. As if spoken by someone from Khi.The man was a wonder, learning that amount of De Vhatic in a singleeightday.

"Youcan't accept that as a formal declaration of sponsorship." Thewhining voice cut through his thoughts. By all gods unholy! Of courseit was the same woman again.

"Ithink he made his intent clear." Master de Verd had turned onhis feet and was now facing the female merchant.

"But,Master de Verd, he clearly has no idea of what he's saying. They musthave repeated this earlier." The dismay was clearly showing inher eyes.

"Ibelieve that may be true, but he was clear enough that even I couldhear him naming the new house. I'm certain he understood what he wassaying, and I refuse to believe they deliberately rehearsed thathorrible parody of our language."

"But..."

"Thatwill be quite enough!" He turned to Harbend. "Now, Harbendde Garak, I advise you not to show the declaration of your house toother than those you trust with your embarrassment. The law is clear.As your sponsorship was spoken so shall it be written. Let it beclear for all who come after us to know at what time, in what mannerand with whom present your house came to be. We welcome House deGarak to our ranks."

Harbendgroaned. Master merchant Glarien de Verd could hardly have twistedthe knife harder than he did by ending the matter in the traditionalhigh ceremony, but still, it was done. He was representing a tradinghouse. He was Harbend de Garak.

He glared atthe master merchant and received an amused stare in return. Almostgiddy with relief he hardly noticed Arthur walking to the center ofthe wooden part of the floor.

While Arthurpaid the insane amount of money required of a sponsor Harbend eagerlywaited for the finishing question that procedure required. As ifteasing him Master de Verd made a show of displaying a benigninterest in Arthur's growing stack of jewelery, silver and gold.

"Well,Master de Garak, most recent of our houses. Each new house must showin deed as well as intention why we should not revoke the titlegranted. Even though I'm personally inclined to think you've alreadydone so..." He was interrupted by a growl coming from the womanhe ordered silent earlier and disarmed her with a smile that madeseveral of the gathered merchants laugh.

"Ohwell, I had to try, didn't I?" she exclaimed dramatically andjoined the laughter even though it was clear to them all how forcedit sounded.

"So,what are your plans for making a lasting impression among the tradinghouses of Keen?" Master de Verd said. "Other than what youhave already done," he added, drawing further laughter from theseated merchants in the hall.

"Masterde Verd. Considering the impact the western raiders have on trade Imean to reinvent methods normally found lacking in efficiency,"Harbend answered trying to keep his voice level.

"Wouldyou care to elaborate?"

"I willreopen the old caravan route between Erkateren and Braka."

A murmur ofsurprise greeted him.

"WhileI agree your proposal is sound at the present time when we'revirtually cut off from that source of metal, the cost for setting upthe first caravan seems, how shall I put it, somewhat steep. Howcould you possibly raise the funds needed.

"Thefunding for this venture is already secure. Let me introduce you tomy partner, Arthur Wallman."

This timethe murmur only displayed appreciation. The source of money neededhad been clear all the time, but they wanted confirmation and now itwas given.

"What'sup?" Arthur asked when he heard his name mentioned.

"Theyjust wanted me to confirm the means necessary for the caravan."

"Ah,yes. Tell them that their consternation is all I sought. Amusementhas a value, and that's all the profit I crave."

Harbendtranslated. He was rewarded with a chorus of guffaws and clappinghands.

"Wellspoken. The arrogance and airs of a true merchant among equals. He'lldo well," was the finishing response from Master de Verd beforethe merchants present rose to greet their newest member.

Harbendslowly realized that he'd been accepted formally as well asemotionally, and Arthur had carried the key to open a door Harbendexpected to stay closed for years to come.