Страница 25 из 137
“It looked like it didn’t go very well?” Theretha’s tone turned the statement into a question. She hated it when she did that. It always made her feel indecisive, more like a mouse than ever.
“You might say that,” Soumeta snarled. “Just like you might say it’s been a little damp this spring!”
“How bad was it?” Theretha sighed.
“Just for starters, he says Jolha
“What?!” Theretha shook her head in confused disbelief. “Why in the world would she do something like that?”
“Exactly my point!” Soumeta’s voice was harsh. “Jolha
“He’s officially excluded us from the market?” Theretha stared at the other war maid in shock.
“No, not officially,” Soumeta replied, almost as if she hated conceding Manuar even that. “But he didn’t have to. What he said was that, of course he would sign our permit and see to it that anyone trading with us complies with every requirement of the law and the charter. However, he pointed out, not even the charter requires people to buy from us if they choose not to. And apparently,” she bared her teeth in a smile totally devoid of humor, “it just happens that every merchant in Thalar has decided not to trade with us. Completely spontaneously, of course.”
“I’m sure Herian wouldn’t feel that way,” Theretha protested.
“Maybe not, but it doesn’t matter,” Soumeta sighed. “Herian isn’t here.”
“What?” Theretha blinked. “That’s ridiculous. Herian is always here!”
“Not according to Manuar, he isn’t,” Soumeta said, biting off each word as if she were chewing horseshoes. Theretha looked at her in consternation, and she shrugged irritably. “Figure it out for yourself, Theretha. If Manuar’s lying and Herian is here, then there’s no point in even hoping he’ll enforce the charter’s provisions for us, whatever he says. And if Herian isn’t here, that may be even worse. It may mean he’s chosen to join in this boycott of our people and just doesn’t want to openly admit it. Either way, I see no reason to stay here and batter our heads against a wall that isn’t going to come down for us!”
“But—” Theretha began, only to have Soumeta cut her off with a sharp shake of her head.
“We’re not staying,” she said flatly.
“But we must!” Theretha protested. “We need the markets—the income! We can’t just—”
“Oh, yes we can,” Soumeta told her. “I don’t like the feel of this one bit, Theretha. I’m not sure it’s even safe here, certainly not sure enough to risk exposing you to danger.”
“Me? In danger here in Thalar?” Soumeta seemed to be speaking a foreign language, and Theretha shook her head, trying to understand what the other war maid was thinking. “You should have let me talk to Manuar,” she said with mingled plaintiveness and frustration. “He knows me. For Lillinara’s sake, I’ve eaten lunch in his home, Soumeta!”
“I know you have. And I know that’s one reason you were sent along in the first place. But he made it fairly obvious that there are people here in Thalar who are really upset over our supposed demands and Jolha
“Revenge for what?” Theretha demanded in total confusion and exasperation. “All I want to do is sell some bottles! This doesn’t make any sense!”
“That’s because no one is feeling particularly sensible just now,” Soumeta told her harshly. “And, for the second time, I don’t have any idea what started it all. The one thing I’m positive of is that it wasn’t Jolha
“Unless what?” Theretha asked when the other woman paused.
“Unless Trisu and his cronies are trying to concoct some sort of a bizarre pretext, a justification for the way they’ve been systematically infringing on our rights and boundaries.”
“That’s preposterous.” Theretha wished she sounded more certain of that than she felt.
“Of course it is. But that doesn’t mean it’s not happening.” The older war maid shook her head. “You know, I didn’t want to believe it, myself. Not even when the Voice at Quaysar warned Mayor Yalith that the Mother was uneasy. But now—”
She shrugged, and Theretha nodded slowly and miserably. The Voice hadn’t been very specific, or not, at least, in any of the messages from her which Theretha knew anything about. But when a priestess of Lillinara—especially the priestess, at the Quaysar Temple of Lillinara—warned a war maid free-town of impending danger, it was best to pay attention.
“But that’s why we’re getting out of here, now—this evening,” Soumeta continued flatly. “If I knew what was going on, I might not be so concerned over whether or not I could handle it. But this whole thing is so crazy, so bizarre, that I can’t begin to figure out what’s happening, or even what’s already happened. In the meantime, though, it’s my job to be sure you get home safe and sound. You and your art commissions are more important to Kalatha in the long run than opening the local markets, and if Manuar’s telling the truth, not just blowing smoke out of his arse because he’s pissed at me for calling him on his dereliction of his duties, then there might be a genuine danger of something … unpleasant happening to you.
“So climb back up in the cart, Theretha. We’re leaving. Now.”
Theretha opened her mouth, ready for one, final protest. But Soumeta’s expression stopped her. The other woman’s face was like a stone wall, a fortress turned against the world in general and Thalar and Master Manuar in particular. There was no point arguing, the glassblower realized.
The rain was falling harder as Theretha clambered up into the cart, in the center aisle between the crates of glassware they’d brought with them so hopefully. She heard the raindrops hitting the taut canvas above her, like an endless series of tiny fists, punching the cover. Here and there, water broke through the fabric, ru
She was going to be cold, wet, and thoroughly miserable by dawn, she thought as the sweet chiming of vibrated glass sang softly to the rain patter from the crates. And the fact that Soumeta was going to be even wetter and colder only made her feel even more frustrated and obscurely guilty. Soumeta was right—Mayor Yalith had made it clear she was to be Kalatha’s official representative, and that she was to “look after” Theretha. Yet Theretha couldn’t rid herself of the gnawing suspicion that if she’d only spoken to Manuar herself, she might somehow have made a difference.
But she hadn’t, and as the cart jolted and splashed through the rain, she settled into the most comfortable position she could find and wondered just when everything had started going so dreadfully wrong.