Page 32 of The Second Marriage
The annual arrival of the Sarnai was celebrated with as much vigor as a festival. No one worked on the day the caravan came, although the fortress was busy as a nest of ants as everyone gathered the goods they had spent the winter making and dressed in their finest clothing. Some enterprising soul rolled a barrel of Sejun’s dowry liquor into the courtyard, where it would presumably lubricate the bargaining. Taral left his office with some vague intention of double-checking the inventory of dowry goods he meant to sell, then saw all the commotion in the courtyard and turned to go directly back inside. He would wait until someone came to fetch him.
That someone was Sejun, panting a little as though he had been walking with some haste; Taral had never seen him run. He came into the room and said, “Taral! Iniya is looking for you.”
“Is she?” Taral finished the sentence he was writing, then set his brush on its rest and looked up. “Are the Sarnai here, then?”
“Yes, they’re unloading the animals now. She wants you to come speak with the caravaneer.”
Iniya would do all the flattering and gossiping and social drinking; Taral would do the trading. He held no resentment about this arrangement, as Iniya’s role was equally important and Taral was absolutely no good at it. He folded his letter to Gurratan to finish later and set his lap desk aside.
Sejun stood aside in the doorway to let him pass. Taral stopped there and touched his hand to Sejun’s wrist. “I’ll be busy for much of the rest of the day. There will be music and dancing later, and considerable drunkenness on the part of everyone involved. Half the unmarried boys in the fortress will make fools of themselves flirting with the traders, and the traders will make fools of themselves flirting back. I expect at least one hasty marriage before the caravan departs.”
Sejun laughed. “You have a low opinion of both boys and Sarnai. I’ll see if Abiral will dance with me, then, as I imagine you’ll be occupied with the traders.”
Taral slid his thumb over the inside of Sejun’s wrist. “Not at all. You’ll dance with me, I hope, instead of Abiral.”
Sejun’s smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I would be glad to,” he said, and leaned in for a quick kiss.
Taral left feeling very pleased with himself. No important business would be conducted after the drinking began, and besides, nothing in his life was so urgent that he couldn’t make time for Sejun. In the days since his conversation with Sejun about Jaysha, not much had outwardly changed, but Taral was working hard to change himself, to behave in a way that would make Sejun believe he was Taral’s priority.
The outer courtyard crawled with Sarnai, retainers, townspeople who had come to gawk at the foreigners, and a number of dogs who hoped there might be food. The Sarnai had mostly brought horses but also a few reindeer. The reindeer, unsuited to the summer warmth in the valleys, lay in the shade of the outbuildings, their tongues out to cool their bodies. Taral stood on the steps until he found Iniya in the crowd, with the baby on her back clutching a rattle in one hand. She was speaking with a Sarnai woman Taral recognized from years past, the caravaneer. He went in that direction.
The caravaneer, facing him, saw him coming and greeted him in the Sarnai way, with a quick brush of the fingers to her chin. Like all the Sarnai, she had pale skin and eyes and dark hair, and wore her long coat even in the mild summer weather. Taral scraped his brain for the woman’s name—Gerel? Geriel, he decided, only somewhat certain, but then Iniya saved him by turning and saying, “Taral, there you are! I’ve been telling Gerel that we have good trading for her this year.”
Well, so Taral had guessed wrong; it didn’t matter. He bowed to Gerel and said, “We’re pleased to see you again, my lady. I hope your journey through the mountains passed without incident.”
Gerel laughed. “We had much incident,” she said in her thickly accented Dirang. “But it’s all fine now. We here for trade. You have trade?”
“So much that you’ll wish you hadn’t gone to Ripuk first,” Taral said, and Gerel showed a great deal of teeth when she smiled. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with my sister for a minute, and then I’ll show you what goods we have.”
Gerel inclined her head. Taral took Iniya’s elbow and drew her aside as she frowned at him. In an undertone, he said, “I know you set aside some things from Sejun’s dowry. Where are they?”
“The necklaces? I took them to Hitu in town. Didn’t I tell you?”
“You took—to Hitu?” Taral blinked at her. “Why?”
“Well, her husband is sick again and she can’t work while she’s caring for him. She’ll sell them to the Sarnai while they’re here.”
Taral had been poised to give Iniya a stern lecture and was confounded by this unexpected turn of events. “No. You didn’t tell me.”
“Did you think I was saving them for myself? Yes, I see that you did. Well! You can go to Hitu and tell her you need the jewelry back, I suppose.”
“We have debts to pay,” Taral said uncertainly.
“That’s true, but our people still need help from us. Sejun’s dowry was generous, and I’m sure there’s enough to pay Shershon and all the rest and also care for those who need our aid.”
Taral’s befuddlement was transforming into chagrin. His expectations for Iniya’s behavior hadn’t come from nowhere, but perhaps she deserved more credit than he gave her.
“And anyway,” Iniya went on, “Sejun is paying workers to make all the repairs I wanted to years ago and you aren’t stopping him, so I don’t see why I can’t give poor Hitu a few necklaces.”
“You’re right,” Taral said. “Forgive me, Iniya, for thinking the worst of you. Tadasho is lucky to have your soft heart to balance out my hard head.”
She gave him an impressively condescending look for someone who had a baby chewing on a strand of her hair. “I do forgive you. You can’t help your faults, and it’s natural for men to fuss and worry.”
“I appreciate your compassion,” Taral said dryly. She smirked at him and sailed away across the courtyard. Taral shook his head and went to find Gerel.
He didn’t bother to wait and see what the Sarnai unloaded from their animals. He wanted coins, not barter. He took Gerel directly to the storage building where he had laid out the goods he thought the Sarnai would find most desirable: slate carvings, embroidered belts in the Sarnai style, a casting of the One God decorated in gold leaf. The Sarnai and the mountain people shared a religion, and the Sarnai liked religious artwork from the Mountain Kingdoms as they found it quaint and exotic. Taral was happy to use their preference as leverage.
After years of managing the annual trade, he had a good sense of what manner of bargain Gerel would drive, and the negotiations were fast and painless. Gerel was pleased with the goods from Merek and Taral was pleased with the price she offered, and so they both came out of it satisfied, which was the best way to conduct a trade.