Colemenoport
Offices of the
Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission
Merchant vellaTon was dark-haired, delicate, and somewhat younger than Padi had envisioned from her reading of the master trader’s notes.
The merchant paused just inside the door, surprise plain on her face. Perhaps she hadn’t received the master trader’s message. That, Padi admitted to herself as she rose from behind the trade table, was the most likely reason for surprise. There were other, less amiable possibilities, including an attempt to establish precedence, but until they were revealed, it was best to assume simple error.
She bowed.
“Merchant vellaTon, I am Padi yos’Galan, trader attached to the Tree-and-Dragon Mission. It is my honor to assist the master trader as he requires. I am to convey his regret that he could not be here for you.”
The merchant raised the hand unencumbered by her case, showing an empty palm and widespread fingers.
“Yes, I did receive his message,” she said pleasantly. “I am to treat with you as I would with him, so he said. You must excuse my moment of surprise. I had not expected you to be quite so—vivid.”
“Vivid” possibly stood in for “young,” Padi thought. If so, it was a gentle substitution, possibly born of the merchant’s own youth.
“But—no matter! I shall be pleased to deal with you! Please tell him when next you speak that I offer commiserations and understanding. Business does sometimes pull us in strange directions.”
“I will tell him so, ma’am,” Padi said as the merchant came forward to put her case on the table.
“I have had enthusiastic reports of you, Trader yos’Galan, from my friend Saru bernRoanti. I think we will deal very well together.”
Padi warmed somewhat at that, and offered a smile of her own.
“I hope that we will, ma’am. May I offer tea?”
“Tea would be most welcome,” Merchant vellaTon acknowledged, seating herself and pulling the case forward.
Padi crossed the room to the buffet, and drew two cups of tea from the pot. By the time she returned to the table, Merchant vellaTon had the screen she had taken from her case open and active before her.
“If I may ask you to sit next to me, Trader, I think you might find this of interest.”
Padi pulled her chair closer and sat down, and Merchant vellaTon moved the screen between them.
“You understand, Trader, that vellaTon Manufactory has been in the business of producing zylon units long before Colemeno and the Dust joined in dance. I have gone through our records and found inventory lists of those days, including what goods we had sent out, and what we had received in return. I wonder if this will be useful to us in our discussions?”
She extended a hand, tapping up the promised inventory list.
“Now, we no longer produce some of these items, not for lack of ability, but for lack of market. With the possibility of once again entering a wider market, with more diversity of taste, we are willing—even eager—to bring the past forward to serve the present.”
Padi leaned closer, running a practiced eye down the list, then sat back and picked up her cup.
“You will have to teach me what these are,” she said. “And where they went, if you know that.”
“With great pleasure, trader,” Merchant vellaTon murmured. She had recourse to her own cup, set it aside and opened the details for the first item on her list.