“You knew they wouldn’t like it, but…”
He could sense a swallowed sob.
“Father’s forbidden me to see you. If he gets really angry, he could throw me out.”
“He…he wouldn’t do that…”
“Why do you think Kacet is in the Council Guards? He started out as an apprentice scrivener, too, but he crossed Father too often, and Father told him that he wouldn’t put up with it any longer.” That much was true, but Kacet had been the one to make the decision. He’d left on his own. Still…
In the silence broken only by the whisper of the breeze through the leaves of the apple and pearapple trees, Rahl could sense dismay and sadness…and something else. What that other feeling was, he couldn’t determine.
“For a while, at least, I don’t dare try to sneak in to see you,” he finally said. “I’ll have to see how things go.”
“Please try…you have to try, Rahl. You have to…” Then the sobs became louder.
“I’ll see…”
“Please…”
Rahl looked around. There was someone on the porch at Alamat’s. “I need to go. Someone at Alamat’s is looking this way.”
He straightened up and began to walk toward the weaver’s. He waved to Alamat as he passed the porch, but the elderly weaver did not look up. Rahl didn’t see anyone else for the rest of the walk to Sevien’s.
Sevien opened the door even before Rahl reached it. “Come on in.”
Rahl stepped inside. Except for Sevien and himself, no one was there. “Where is everyone?”
“Oh…Mother and Delthea are over at Selstak’s. They’re all working on a consorting quilt for Coerlyne. She deserves it, even if Jaired doesn’t. Father went down to the tavern to play plaques with some of his friends.” After a moment, Sevien went on. “You know Jienela’s back?”
“I just found out.” Rahl offered a sour smile, one that mirrored his own mixed feelings. “My parents are pushing me to ask for Shahyla’s hand.”
“They want you to become a…herder?”
“They haven’t said that. Not in so many words, but Mother keeps talking about the machines the engineers are building that will make books by the score and how no one will need scriveners anymore.”
“The Council won’t let them, will they?”
“They can stop the machines from being used outside of Nylan, but how would they stop the books? Are they going to inspect every book coming out of Nylan-or on every ship porting in Land’s End? And if people get books that cost less, why would they pay Father or me more for the same book?”
“You sound like Faseyn,” replied Sevien. “He’s always talking about how what things cost affects the world.”
“What do you think of him?” Rahl asked.
“He’s all right. He likes doing the accounts at the chandlery. Columns and columns of numbers, and he likes keeping track of them. Fahla showed me.”
Rahl forced a polite smile. “When I’ve been there, she’s the only one in the shop.”
“Most times, she is. That’s what she told me.”
Rahl liked Sevien, but he was also interested in Fahla, and he needed to avoid mentioning Shahyla to Fahla. All that meant he’d have to be careful. Very careful.
There was a knock on the door, and Sevien bounded to open it. “Fahla!”
Rahl watched closely, but the redhead merely smiled and nodded politely to Sevien as she stepped inside.
“Faseyn said he didn’t feel like coming tonight when I couldn’t promise redberry pie.” Fahla laughed, then turned to Rahl. “Were the pen nibs satisfactory?”
Rahl laughed in return. “Father didn’t complain, and if there’s anything in the slightest wrong, he will.” Because she was so indifferent to anything except trade, at least with him, he asked, “Have you heard about the Council order?”
“No. Why would I? How do you know?” A faint curiosity lay behind her words.
“While you two are talking about the Council,” Sevien said, “I’ll get some redberry juice. There’s enough for the three of us, anyway.”
“It’s about trade,” Rahl explained, “and the Jeranyi pirates. Because, I’d guess, of all the piracy, the Council is forbidding all trade with Jerans and Jeranyi merchants, and all of them have to leave Recluce within the eightday, and all merchants and factors have to sell anything from Jerans within the eightday or turn it over to the Council…”
As he finished explaining, Rahl could sense a growing tension in Fahla.
“How do you know this?” Her voice was almost playful but with a tightness behind it. “Is it true or just what you heard somewhere?”
“I had to make four copies of the notice this afternoon. After that many copies, you do remember what something said. The effective date is tomorrow.”
Fahla’s lips tightened. Then she stepped back, and called, “Sevien, I have to go.”
“You just came,” the young potter protested.
“I…forgot…something.” Fahla hurried toward the door, then opened it. “Good night, Sevien, Rahl.” With a wave, she was gone.
Sevien strode over to Rahl. “What did you say to her? She was happy until you two talked.”
“I just told her about the newest Council edict. We worked all afternoon copying it. It was about trade, and how the Council is forbidding trade with Jerans because of the pirates.” Rahl glanced toward the door, still slightly ajar. “She was worried. I wonder if her father’s been trading with the Jeranyi, or even with the pirates.”
“Father says he has good prices, better than the other factors.” Sevien looked at Rahl. “Did you have to tell her?”
“I thought she’d want to know. Besides, all she ever talks to me about is goods and trade, and things like that.”
“That’s all she ever says to me, either,” Sevien retorted. “But what I say doesn’t make her run off.”
“I’m sorry, Sevien.” He was, but he was also worried about Fahla. She was always so sure of herself, and when she’d hurried off, she hadn’t been that way at all, not inside. “I think I’d better go.”
“You…”
“I’ll see you later.” Rahl offered a smile, then hurried out, closing the door behind him.
Once outside, he started home.
As he passed the wall to the orchard, he couldn’t help but worry about Jienela. She’d been upset as well, but he hadn’t promised her anything, and she’d been the one who’d encouraged him. Besides, she’d wanted him to do what he had.
Fahla’s abrupt change in attitude and feelings weighed on him more. She’d arrived cheerful, then almost run out the door. How could trading with Jeranyi upset her that much? Or were she and her family involved in more than that?
It was probably stupid-and possibly dangerous-but he decided to walk down to the chandlery. After all, it wasn’t that late.
He walked confidently through the darkness, knowing that he could find his way better than most people because he had a clear feeling for where things were.
Even before he reached the chandlery, he could sense people around it, but the shutters were closed, and no lamps showed. Rahl had the feeling that whatever was happening was at the loading docks in back. He retraced his steps to the narrow alleyway beside the alchemist’s and eased his way into the deeper gloom near the wall. His left hand rested on the butt of the truncheon for a moment before he grasped it and slipped it out of the leather loops.
Why was he doing this?
He had no idea, except that he was worried about Fahla. She’d acted like she was in trouble, and she never had done that before.
Ahead of him he could sense two wagons backed up to the chandlery’s loading dock. He slowed and hugged the stone wall as he moved silently toward the wagons.
He tried to hear the whispers.
“…sure about this…”
“…copied the notice…quoted it word for word…” That was Fahla.
“…be here in the morning…”
“…can get to the east cove and wait…”
Rahl smelled vinegar. At least, he thought it was vinegar, or maybe pickles.
“…sure that’s wetted down good. Wouldn’t want an explosion now…”