Firewalk (19 page)

Randon agreed, and Kayli led Seba up by the backstairs to avoid a confrontation with the servants or, worse, Terralt. She reached her quarters without incident, and Anida and Endra, no less stunned than Kayli at finding a Bregondish child under such circumstances, immediately set about preparing a bath and clean clothing for the girl. To Kayli’s relief, Seba appeared willing to go with the Bregondish women, giving Kayli some time to recover from her own shock.

A Bregondish child, a slave in Agrond’s capital city? How could such a thing happen, and why? Only those convicted of severe crimes in Bregond could be enslaved to serve their victims or their victims’ family; the only other slaves in Bregond were captured Sarkondish raiders. It had never occurred to her that Agrond permitted slavery as a common practice. And
Bregondish
slaves—Kayli shuddered to think what her father would say or do when he learned of it, and Kayli meant that he should learn of it very quickly indeed.

“The storm gathering outside isn’t nearly as impressive as the one on your face,” Randon said mildly, closing the door behind him. He sat down beside Kayli. “Has she told you yet how she came here?”

Kayli shook her head, forcing herself to calmness.

“No. She is too frightened. I left Endra to coax it out of her, if she could.”

Randon shrugged.

“I can pretty well guess what she’ll have to tell,” he said. “You know, don’t you, that there’s been a few merchants trading illegally between Agrond and Bregond for many years?”

“Of course.” Kayli sighed. “Else I would never have learned Agrondish, more than likely, nor my father learned the news of Agrond.”

“But do you know those same merchants sometimes trade with Sarkond, too?” Randon raised his eyebrows at Kayli’s stunned silence. “Don’t look so shocked. If they’re willing to break the laws of two countries, why not both at once? There’s the source of your slave trade, my lady, not Agrond raiding across the border, if that’s what you’ve been thinking. When Sarkond raids a village, they take what they want, kill most of the adults, and sell the children as slaves to the merchants, who take them across the border to sell. There are likely a few Agrondish citizens wearing iron collars in Bregond, I’d wager.”

“There are
not,”
Kayli said hotly. “It would never be permitted.”

“Mmm. It’s not permitted
here”
Randon said pointedly. “Neither is trading across the border, but it happens.”

Kayli faced him squarely.

“And what justice will you offer that child?” she demanded. “How will you punish the one who kept her?”

“He’ll likely go unpunished,” Randon said, holding up a hand to prevent Kayli’s outburst. “Even if the child can identify him, nobody will testify against him. His friends and neighbors will deny that he kept a slave at all. Remember that in their eyes, he hasn’t committed any crime. She’s Bregondish, an enemy. I couldn’t condemn anybody on only the word of a child, no matter how much I might like to.”

A gentle knock at the door prevented whatever reply Kayli would have made, and Endra peeped in.

“May I come in, lady?” she said. “The child’s having a bit of supper, and then Anida will put her to sleep in my room.”

“Yes, come in,” Kayli said hurriedly. “Is Seba well? Have you learned how she came to be here?”

“Well enough, I suppose, and yes, but you’re not going to like it much,” Endra said, glancing at Randon.

“Go ahead,” Randon told her. “I’d like to know, too.”

“Mm. She was born in one of the horse clans,” Endra told them. “Orphaned a few years ago in a Sarkondish raid, but a very few of the clan escaped. One of the healing temples took her in—she’s not certain which village it was nearest—and kept her long enough to be certain she’d no mage-gift, then settled her in the next horse clan that passed the temple on its circuit. Then
that
clan was raided. She’s been sold a couple of times since then, before she ended up with an herbalist in Tarkesh.” Endra glanced at Kayli, her lips narrowed. “Been violated, too—by her first master, though, not the last one.”

Kayli shuddered but said nothing. What could she say?
Why
had her parents never told her of such things happening? How could they ignore such horror as if it did not exist?

But what else could they do she realized. The borders were patrolled as thoroughly as was reasonably possible. Sarkondish raids were prevented, or at least avenged, whenever possible. What more could be done? Only make a treaty with Agrond in the hope of preventing further incursions. And that, too, had been done.

“I’ll go back to her now,” Endra said after the awkward pause. “I’ve still to mix the mite’s sleeping draft. She’ll need it, poor babe.” The midwife ducked her head in lieu of a bow and backed out the door.

“What will you do with her?” Randon asked Kayli. “Send her back to Bregond?”

“Send her where?” Kayli asked helplessly. “She has no kin left to take her in, and without the mage-gift I cannot send her to one of the temples.” She stopped there, not wanting to add that no one else in Bregond would have her—a captive of the Sarkondish who had failed to take her own life as was her duty to Bregond. It sounded heartless even to Kayli; she knew Randon would never understand.

“No,” she said at last. “I will keep her here. It is, after all, my duty, as she asked for my protection.” She glared defiantly at Randon. “I will find some work for her.”

“All right, now, calm down,” Randon said, laying his hand on her arm. “I didn’t abduct the girl. And I scarcely expected you to throw her out into the street again. What more do you want from me?”

“I want justice for Seba,” Kayli countered. “And I want measures taken so that this will not happen again.”

“All right, I’ll try,” Randon said, shrugging. “If I can find any way to do it, whoever owned her will be punished. But how do you expect me to stop a trade that’s already outlawed?“

Kayli thought for a moment.

“Issue a proclamation that anyone dealing in slaves, either buying or selling, will be put to death,” she said. “And that any testimony against such traffic will be generously rewarded. Then those around them will cease to protect them.”

“That last is a good idea,” Randon admitted. “But if I have people put to death over Bregondish slaves, the resentment against Bregond—and you, Kayli—will only increase.”

“Then make the guilty slaves themselves,” Kayli pressed. “Let them serve others as a reminder that evil caused to others will one day return upon them.”

“Fine,” Randon said patiently. “Then those who already own slaves will either abandon them or kill them so as not to be caught with them. And what do you expect to become of these ex-slaves, or do you want to keep them all like Seba?”

Kayli said nothing, only gazed steadily at Randon. How would he react, she wondered, if he had stumbled across Agrondish citizens being held as slaves in Bregond? What action might he have demanded be taken?

“All right.” Randon sighed at last. “All right. We’ll think of something. I’ll talk to Terralt in the morning. He may have some ideas. In the meantime I’ll call a smith to cut that collar off the girl.”

It was impossible to be angry when Randon gave her that wry grin. Kayli smiled gently in return and laid her hand over his.

“I am sorry I became so angry,” she said, a little embarrassed. “But when I thought of that child, torn from her home and made a slave in a strange land—”

“—you reacted the same way I would,” Randon finished for her. “Kayli, I’m sorry. Of course you’re outraged. I wish you’d sit down with me tomorrow and help me write a message to your father telling him about the problem. If he’s been more successful than we have in controlling illegal slave trade, I’d appreciate any suggestions he can offer.”

That was neat, very neat, Kayli thought with a weary cynicism. By telling her that he was personally going to notify her father, he effectively prevented her from making her own report, and at the same time by his honesty and apparently prompt action he forestalled any protest the High Lord and Lady of Bregond might make. Kayli sighed to herself. Would she spend the rest of her marriage questioning the motives behind Randon’s every word and deed?

Randon twined his fingers through Kayli’s.

“You’ve been in a poor temper these last few days,” he said gently. “Stevann says you’ve been worrying because you haven’t conceived. Are you afraid I’ll set you aside, take another wife?”

Kayli forced an expression of serenity she did not feel. What could she say? If she was honest and said
yes, I am afraid of being set aside, but 1 am just as afraid of being here in this country that sometimes horrifies me, afraid of these responsibilities I have been set, and I ache to my very soul for privacy and freedom,
what comfort could Randon give her? There was no reassurance he could give that was not a lie.

“I am not so worried as all that,” Kayli said as lightly as she could. “Stevann and Endra, too, say it is too soon to be concerned. I only hope that your advisers feel the same.”

“Mmm. Every day we sit in audience they grow more willing to wait,” Randon told her. “You’ve surprised and impressed everyone, lords and commoners alike, by the active role you’ve taken in decision making. I won’t say it hasn’t helped me, too. A number of lords who wouldn’t support me before, thinking I had no training in rulership, are more willing to give me a chance with an active High Lady at my side. I think it’s time you became more involved in other ways, too—the paperwork, and making policy with me. The sooner the people come to accept the two of us as their rulers, the happier everyone will be—except Terralt and his followers, that is.

“That being said,” Randon added in a lighter tone, “I’ve invited the heads of several of the guilds to dinner tomorrow. It’s past time they met their new High Lady, and you them. And as you’ve said, they’ve been my staunchest supporters.”

A sudden surge of panic wiped out the last of Kayli’s anger. Dinner with the leaders of the guilds only a day away, and she wholly unprepared! Why, she had no idea even how to address such figures, much less how to comport herself with them.

“Then you must help me,” she said quickly. “Give me their names and titles, and describe them each, and what their guild does, and any recent events of import to them so that I may address them personally.”

“But it’s late already,” Randon protested. “And we’ve had a busy day.”

Kayli shook her head.

“You have earned the guilds’ loyalty through years of friendship,” she told him. “I must accomplish the same in a few hours of talk.”

“All right, all right,” Randon said resignedly. “But how are you going to remember all that from one night’s briefing?”

“I have a good memory,” Kayli told him. “I have trained it extensively. Please, begin.” She sat down at the small bedroom table, motioning to him to join her.

At midnight Randon finally waved a hand dismissively.

“No more,” he said firmly. “You’ve got everything
I
can remember. If you can remember all that, you’ll surely dazzle them all tomorrow, and if not, there’s no good in wasting any more of our time. I’m desperate for sleep.”

In the morning Kayli rose early and let Endra and the maids do their best for her with scented bathing oils, perfumes, jewels and other adornments; still she had time to meditate before dinner and to sit quietly sipping the wine Seba brought her, so that she went down to dinner with a calmer and clearer mind. Randon met her at the foot of the stairs; he seemed calm, too, as he took her arm and led her to the dining hall.

Of course. These people are his friends and allies. For him this is no test.

As was Agrondish custom, the men and women were already seated at the dining table, but they rose as Randon and Kayli entered. Randon introduced each of them, and Kayli could not suppress a small surge of pride as she recognized them from his descriptions, and managed to address a small personal comment to each of them—to Master Dyer Lidian, praise for the new shade of purple that was the talk of Tarkesh; to Master Weaver Odric, congratulations on the birth of his first grandchild; to Guildmistress Ravena of the House of Scribes, a sympathetic hope that her shoulder, recently broken in a wagon accident, was well mended. The guildmasters and guildmistresses seemed astonished at Kayli’s small store of knowledge, and Kayli smiled quietly to herself as she sat down beside Randon at the head of the table, knowing her study and worry had been well worth it if she had earned some respect from these people.

She was grateful, too, that Randon’s talk of the night before and the audiences they had shared let her converse intelligently with them and not seem ignorant of affairs in Agrond. She found herself warming to these people, surprised to actually enjoy a dinner of state. But then, she realized, why should she not enjoy their company—these folk were commoners who had made their place through hard work and accomplishment, as had those at her own Order, and they were Randon’s friends besides; their society lacked the velvet-and-dagger dance of courtly manners of which Kayli had already grown so tired. She was surprised, however, when Randon shifted the conversation from rising grain values with an abruptness that left her gaping.

“I’m sure by now you’ve all heard what happened yesterday,” Randon said.

“The business of the slave girl,” Guildmistress Ravena said, nodding. “Already the guilds are fair buzzing with it.”

Randon sipped thoughtfully at his wine.

“And what tone,” he asked slowly, “did the talk take?”

Guildmistress Ravena only frowned a little, but it was Smithmaster Erinton who answered forthrightly, although he glanced at Kayli and flushed as if uncomfortable.

“It wasn’t a popular act, lord—High Lord, I mean, confiscating somebody’s slave like that, and it’s raised some worries. We all know keeping slaves hasn’t been precisely
legal
for nearly a decade, but—”

“—but until now it’s been tolerated,” Master Tanner Crinna finished, twisting her stained fingers nervously. “At least the guards’ve overlooked it. Why, the tax assessors always listed ‘em on the accounts and taxed us on ‘em same as barrels or carts, and nothing ever come of it. What’s folk to think now?”