“Go very slowly,” Sasha warned him. “Accountancy was never my strong point.”
Tershin leaned forward on the table. His old hands were firm in their gesticulation, and his eyes as intent as those of a much younger man. “The Meraini pay for their trade with Ilduur in talons. Some even use our marks, but of course, trade with any member of the Saalshen Bacosh is supposed to be prohibited….”
“The priesthood would have an offender killed,” said Sasha, understanding that much.
“So, the Meraini learn to be discreet,” Tershin agreed. “They have traded with Ilduur for many centuries, Maldereld's arrival here did not stop it, and the Meraini priesthood keep silent because they receive a tribute.”
“A cut,” Sasha translated.
“Just so. Talons are received and used to purchase Ilduuri goods. Merchants selling those goods accumulate talons, but many of those who sell to Meraine do not buy from Meraine. They will trade talons for marks, with those that do. There is a market price for trade between talons and marks. Too many talons, and the price falls. They're easy to acquire, do you see?”
Sasha nodded. She wasn't quite that slow.
“Too few, and the price rises. Now, a sum of ten thousand talons is quite large. So I went to see the men who fix the price of trade. To my astonishment, the price had plummeted, a full fifteen talons for each mark. Typically the price is four or five to a mark. The most I have ever seen it is nine or ten to the mark, and I have lived and worked in Andal for thirty years.”
“Andal is flooded with Meraini talons,” Sasha said slowly. Tershin nodded, with great meaning. “Trade has been good lately?”
“Not that good.”
“So someone in the Remischtuul is receiving wagonloads of talons from Meraine, and paying them out to the guilds.”
“It would seem the only answer.”
“To gain their loyalty?”
“Their silence,” Tershin said grimly. “And those young men that you assaulted, I fear, were sent to me by the Stamentaast, as a reminder to me to keep my mouth shut. The Stamentaast knows all those who work within the trade. Lately, several of those setting the trade of talons and marks have disappeared. Yesterday, a new price was announced. Seven talons to the mark.”
“They're fixing the price?”
“Yes, while the black market is now offering a price of eighteen. The Stamentaast chase the black-marketeers, and the number of disappearances grows larger.”
Sasha exhaled hard. “By helping you, I seem to have put you in greater danger. It's a bad habit of mine, I apologise.”
Tershin smiled. “There is no need. Indeed, you seem to have offered a solution to my problem.” Sasha raised her eyebrows. “The Meraini will not send wagonloads of talons through the mountain passes unaccompanied-Ilduur is relatively peaceful and law abiding, but there are watchful eyes, loose tongues, and common criminals here as anywhere else. Such a large sum, as tribute to the Remischtuul members, will come accompanied by a senior person of Meraine.”
“An ambassador,” Sasha agreed, thinking furiously. “A close relative to the Chansul of Meraine himself, I'd guess. Perhaps a brother.”
“Yes, but he dare not enter Andal publicly,” Tershin reminded her. “The Remischtuul declares that all foreigners are equally evil. To be acting upon the bribes of the Meraini, in planning for future allegiance and a common front against the Regent in the new Bacosh, would seem hypocritical.”
Sasha smiled darkly. “We must find this ambassador. If I were to throw him at the feet of the Ilduuri Steel, their attitude toward the Remischtuul might change.”
“Getting this ambassador may not be easy.”
Sasha shrugged. “I don't need all of him. His head will do.”
FIFTEEN
Shuen Vaal meant “Steel Town” in Ilduuri, meaning that its residents were mostly soldiers, or ex-soldiers, and their families. Battalion banners and pennants decorated windows and walls, streets were named after battles and markets featured military gear-boots, shovels, ropes, everything a soldier might prefer from regulation Steel kit. Bergen was delighted, and stopped to enquire about weapons in his fluent Ilduuri. The shopkeeper beckoned him to a rear room, and pulled some swords from a locked chest-the Steel issued regulation swords, but were sometimes slow to replace old or damaged ones, and some men preferred a different weight or grip, depending on the tolerance of their immediate commanders.
Sasha had to drag Bergen on, for the afternoon was late, and the Andal Valley shadows creeping in on the city.
“Ridiculous that weapons cannot be sold freely,” she muttered. “Soon the Remischtuul will forbid people the use of their own fists.” She hated more than ever being unarmed, though she did feel safer amongst so many soldiers in civilian clothes. The Stamentaast had few friends here, and those she'd seen moved in larger groups and were not so bold as to stop and question anyone they pleased.
Yasmyn had not been pleased to be told to remain at Father Belgride's temple, but there was no choice-serrin in Andal were common enough, and all the others save Yasmyn could pass as Ilduuri, but Yasmyn's eyes gave her away. Rhillian and Aisha were still at their meetings, and Kiel and Arendelle likewise on some other lead, so this task had fallen to her and Bergen.
At the market stall Tershin had told them of, Bergen asked for Haast, Master of the Steelwrights' Guild. The stall owner sent his daughter running, and they waited, browsing over good knives on display and some axes, hammers, and other tools. They did not have to wait long. Sasha noticed the men before Bergen, four of them, all with the build and walk of warriors, however plain their clothes. She nudged Bergen, who picked up the axe he was examining. Sasha took a knife and gave it a clever twirl. The men stopped, save one who came forward.
That man demanded something in Ilduuri, and Sasha heard the name of Haast once more. Bergen answered, and Sasha heard the name “Tershin” in his reply.
The men beckoned for them to follow. “They're Steel,” Bergen murmured to Sasha as they followed, two men before them, two more behind.
“They said that?”
“They just look it,” said Bergen. It was the Steel's part of town, and Sasha reckoned if anyone would know, Bergen would.
They were led to some stairs up the side of a building, like a single, vast house, but with narrow stairways about the walls and across odd angles leading to living quarters on different floors. These stairs led to a common balcony, then up again to the attic atop the building.
Within was a living space, a kitchen built around the common stone chimney that rose through all the floors below. Two women prepared food, while another nursed an infant. Two older children played with wooden toys. Spread across a wall, Sasha saw a battalion pennant. Upon a high cabinet, out of reach of children, a long sword.
The men ushered them onto the balcony. Upon the nearby lake edge rose rows of smoke stacks, some belching black soot. Furnaces, she realised. This was the steelwright's district, after all. And those furnaces made serrin steel, an art unknown outside of Saalshen and the Saalshen Bacosh.
The leader of the Ilduuri men introduced himself. Arken, Sasha thought she caught his name.
“This is Sasha,” Bergen replied in Saalsi, “and I am Bergen.” The men frowned. Arken looked suspiciously at Sasha, clearly suspecting that she was the reason for the shift in tongues.
“Tershin sent you?” Arken asked, also in Saalsi.
“He did,” said Bergen. “On the trail of too many Meraini talons.”
The men's eyes widened. They exchanged glances. “You're from the north?” one asked, trying to place Bergen's accent.