“All you have,” one of the younger Guards said eagerly, when she repeated the question. “We saw them as we were coming in—the mounts your people were training with. Wonderful! We’ll take everything!”
The older man looked at him oddly, but didn’t contradict or reprimand him for speaking out of turn.
So that’s the one who holds the purse strings. The older one is in nominal command, but this is the important one. Hmm. Noble, younger son would be my guess, the other two are probably breeders or trainers, brought along as consultants. Right, now I know who’s what.
She explained her observations to her cousins, then turned back to the visitors. “This is where I put on my merchant hat,” she said, “Only it’s an odd sort of merchant hat, because I am not going to urge you to buy everything with legs in sight. First of all, only about half the horses here are Shin’a’in-blood, and of those, not all of them are going to be suitable for cavalry mounts. Yes, they’ve all been broken and given some training that involves fighting, but it may not be what you want. The Shin’a’in feel very strongly about their beasts; the name they call them means ‘younger sibs.’ If they think you’re going to put one horse to a task for which it isn’t suited, they won’t sell you any.”
Purse-holder opened and shut his mouth twice, without saying anything. The One In Charge blinked, as if he was so surprised by her response that he wasn’t certain he’d heard it right.
“And in any event, these are light beasts; good for skirmishers, horse-archers and light cavalry. So, has Valdemar ever run any troops like that before so that you know what to look for?” She waited for a response; the One In Charge gave it.
“Not in the standing army, no,” he admitted. “Some of the nobles on the Border have private troops like that; no one else. That’s why we came here for the mounts.”
She nodded, and translated. Kra’heera put in his own discoveries. “I have been watching their minds, cousin. The one who speaks out of turn is a wealthy man of highborn, who breeds the Ashkevron hunters and heavy horses. The ones who do not speak are trainers of skirmishers. The one who speaks much is a warleader. It is as he has said—and these are fighters they wish now to have. He has not told you why. There is to be fighting upon their eastern border, and soon, he thinks. Very, very serious fighting.”
Kero nodded; there had been rumors about conflict between Valdemar and Hardorn, but since Karse was between Hardorn and any potential client, and Valdemar never hired mercenaries, she hadn’t paid much attention to the rumors.
This might involve more for us than just selling horses. If Hardorn is starting a major war and wins, they’ll be on Rethwellan’s border, and that means we get involved. Another thought occurred to her. Just because Valdemar hasn’t hired mercs in the past, that doesn’t mean they won’t start.
“Troops like that aren’t trained in a day,” she warned. “It took us ten years to get where we are. Most standing armies don’t bother—but if you’re sure of the need—?”
Purse-holder nodded, and he wasn’t entirely happy about the need being there, either.
“Well, if you’ll trust my judgment on what beasts will suit you,” she told him, “I think we can come to the bargaining table.”
Purse-holder tapped One In Charge on the shoulder, and they spent a moment in huddled conference. One In Charge finally turned back toward her and nodded.
“Is this all right with you?” she asked her cousins. They looked at each other, then Sa’dassan shrugged. “We had rather our younger-sibs did not go to war, but if they go to hands that will care for them, they are as safe as may be in this world. It is well.”
“All right, gentlemen,” she said, waving to the cousins to precede her. “If you’ll follow me, we can expedite this transaction as quickly as even you might want.”
Sa’dassan weighed the first of three heavy pouches in her hand as she held the other two in the crook of one arm. She smiled, watching as the last of the Valdemaran horse-handlers urged a straggler to catch up with the rest of the herd and out past the corrals. Kero coughed at the dust they raised, and quirked her eyebrow at the Shin’a’in trainer. “Well, they certainly paid enough. Are you content, cousin?”
“More than content,” Sa’dassan said with certainty. “Kra’heera has kept watch on their minds. Their ruler is a good one; this, their Queen, has sold some of her wedding gifts to give to these men, that they might purchase the best mounts they could find. She thinks first of her people, their lands, and their beasts, and only then of herself.”
“That’s what I’d heard from El—from a Herald I knew,” Kero said, hastily avoiding Eldan’s name. “I didn’t know whether to believe it or not, frankly. You know, if all monarchs took care of their people that way, there might be fewer wars.”
“Perhaps.” Sa’dassan put the pouch with the others, cradled like a baby. “Perhaps. We, we do not place much store in Kings and the like. You have a good one in this year—who is to say that the one that follows him will be as good?”
“Nothing, unless you have a system like the Rethwellans have, with the sword that chooses the King.” She shrugged. “And then, of course, you could lose the sword, or someone enchants it, or puts in a substitute. Besides, if there were fewer wars, I’d be out of work. So, what do you plan to do now? You’ve sold most of your string all at once.”
Sa’dassan glanced toward the temporary corrals. “It has been a good three years,” she observed. “Our mares bred widely, and many foaled twins. And the first of the young ones are coming upon the market—we had a fear to glut it and bring prices down.”
Kero laughed to hear the Shin’a’in—reputed to be the most ruthless fighters in the world—talking like a merchant.
“Which was one reason, no doubt, why Liha’irden sent their string with ours.”
Kero raised her eyebrow a little higher. “So what did you have in mind?”
“That I shall intercept those Clans going to the Anduras Fair in Jkatha and send them here. It is not so far from here, a week’s ride, and they were going out behind us. Some Clans drew lots to send their beasts abroad beyond Kata’shin’a’in, and that was one of the places. They were to wait for us and your armed escort before returning to the Plains.”
The last time that the Shin’a’in had gone to Anduras Fair was when Tale’sedrin had been ambushed on the way home, and only Tarma left as a survivor. Kero clamped her teeth on her first reaction; that the fear of glut must have been very great to send horses again to a place so ill-omened.
“As I said, they set out after us; and Anduras is not so great a distance that we cannot coax the buyers here to wait, I think.” Sa’dassan smiled slyly, and Kero chuckled.
“And in return for that coaxing, you will, of course, get a percentage of their profits.” She shook her head.
Sa’dassan spread her hands wide. “Value for value, and reward for the deserving—that is how the Clans have always been, cousin. And lest you hold up to me that first fair, and the horses we brought you—let me point out that you are Clan by blood, and we only delivered to you your own share that had been unclaimed.”
Kero shrugged. “I won’t argue with you, if that’s the way you see it—but look, will you trust me and mine with your earnings in return? You’re going to lose time going down and back and the best is going to be gone by the time you return; if you’ll leave your needs and your coin with Scratcher, I think he can get everything you want at the price you want.”