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Colemenoport

Offices of

Tree-and-Dragon Trade Mission


It was two weary traders who approached the offices of the trade mission in the early evening hours.

“So, Padi yos’Galan, are you still excited by the glamour of opening a new port, or are you regretting Trader Veshtin and Maribel’s interesting route?”

Padi eyed the master trader—no, surely, it was her father who asked the question; there was that certain tilt to the eyebrow, just there. Still, his melant’i was necessarily fluid, given the subject, and it did her no harm, she thought wryly, to practice diplomacy.

“Certainly, I must regret Trader Veshtin, who is by all reports a skilled trader, and an exemplary teacher,” she said evenly. “I believe that I could have learned much from her. But you know, sir, that one cannot be in two places at once.”

“Very true,” Father said, gravely. “One did wonder particularly after the glamour.”

“Well, the glamour—” Padi gave him a tired smile. “The glamour has perhaps been replaced by exhilaration, trepidation—and exhaustion.”

Father laughed.

“Yes, let us by no means forget exhaustion! I wonder at myself, if you will have it, Trader Padi, that I darted off with only the two of us—formidable as we are!—on this venture. The guild, as I am sure you know, recommends a master and three traders, with at least two qe’andra, for a trade team set to open a port.”

“We mustn’t discount Dyoli,” Padi said, “who was trained to trade. Nor Mar Tyn, who is as quick with his figures as any port clerk I’ve encountered.”

Mar Tyn pai’Fortana of their team, Dyoli ven’Deelin’s partner, had grown to adulthood in Liad’s Low Port, where the chiefest draw on one’s time was merely staying alive. In Mar Tyn’s case, his life had been further complicated by the fact that he was a Luck, the most inconvenient Talent that Padi—no expert—had yet heard of. If Mar Tyn had lived a more regular life, with a clan to support his ambitions, and leave to study, he might well have been an accountant.

“You approach a topic that I have been considering,” Father said, putting his hand against the plate. The door opened; he waved Padi in before him.

Sighing, she put her case on the conference table. They were just come from a reception hosted by the market manager, so that they might be introduced to the principal vendors on-port. They had stayed somewhat after to finalize the details of tomorrow morning’s facilities tour, while the rest of their party had returned to the apartment assigned to their use.

The message-waiting light was blinking on the comm, which had been the case very nearly since the portmaster had opened the office to them.

Father put his case next to hers, and touched her hand.

“I would like to have your advice regarding a notion of mine, if you will. Your comment just then brought it forward.”

“My comment?” Padi blinked. “Regarding what?”

“Regarding Master pai’Fortana’s skill with numbers, and ’counts. The ship’s library does have the complete educational module published by the Accountant’s Guild. Do you think Master pai’Fortana would view the arrival of that module as a gift? As a demand? Or—there was something else—ah! Or a subtle message reinforcing his certainty that his only service to the mission is that he somewhat softens Dyoli ven’Deelin’s demeanor?”

He paused with a half-smile, and added, “You understand that I do not wish to do further violence to Master pai’Fortana’s self-esteem.”

“I do understand, yes,” Padi said, wrinkling her nose as she stared down at the table.

It was a difficult case. One quite liked Mar Tyn, who, aside his facility with numbers, was quick-witted, observant, and genuinely kind.

“I think . . . ” she said, looking up to meet Father’s eyes, “if the module were accompanied by a note from the master trader, stating that his skill deployed on behalf of the mission is noted, and valued—he would believe that from you. Following, you might say that you thought he would find the attached of interest.”

She sighed sharply, and looked up to meet a quizzical silver gaze.

“That’s a very light touch. Is it better to baffle than offend?”

“In the case, I think so,” Padi said. “If he is baffled”—which, she owned, he likely would be—“he will bring it to Dyoli.”

Father raised an eyebrow.

“So he will. And we may, I believe, depend upon a child of Ixin to explain the matter in a way that will see profit come to her hand. Yes. Thank you, Padi. I believe that the master trader will follow your suggestion.”

He patted her hand, and looked over his shoulder at the implacable glow of the message-waiting light.

“I propose that I check the comm,” he said. “Absent emergencies, we may then go home.”

Padi glanced up.

“I am promised to Tekelia this evening,” she said, and there was a warmth in eyes and pattern that could only give a father pause.

“Of course,” he murmured, and went to the comm.

* * *

There were two messages in-queue. The first revealed that Trader Isfelm wished to meet with Trader yos’Galan at her convenience to finalize the purchase of six adapter kits, which would let the older pod mounts on Ember accommodate the pods carried by Dutiful Passage.

Shan glanced over his shoulder. Padi nodded and made a note on her pad.

The second call was from Portmaster krogerSlyte, received only moments before he and Padi had entered the office, referencing the matter of a trade liaison, and asking for a call back. She left the code for her private line, which she had previously given him.

Shan did hesitate. Surely, the matter of the liaison was not an emergency, it was late in the day, and it took a great deal to wring an admission of exhaustion from Padi. But the portmaster was the trade mission’s staunchest ally so far among the so-called Councilors of the Civilized. It did not do to offend allies, nor to put them off when they were laboring on your behalf.

He entered the code into the comm.

“krogerSlyte,” the portmaster answered briskly.

“Portmaster, it is Master Trader yos’Galan. I have only just returned to our office, and found your message waiting. How may I serve you?”

“I have here in my office Councilor Majel ziaGorn, who has been appointed by the Council to stand as liaison to the trade mission. I wonder if I might bring him to you for an introduction.”

“Of course!” Shan said, and glanced over his shoulder at Padi. She inclined her head, bold heart. He smiled and went back to the comm.

“Would now be convenient to you?” he asked.

“Very much so,” the portmaster said, relief in her voice. “Expect us inside the quarter hour.”

She ended the call, and Shan stood up, stifling a sigh of his own.

Padi was at the buffet, pot in hand.

“I’ll make some tea, shall I?” she said.

“An excellent idea! I will set out some of those pretty iced cakes, in case our guests are peckish.”

“I hope they are,” Padi said frankly. “There are entirely too many pretty iced cakes in this undertaking.”

“A hazard of the trade,” Shan replied solemnly. “There’s nothing for it, save to recruit one’s fortitude.”

Padi laughed, her face lighting; her pattern flaring with such fey energy that—old and experienced Healer that he was—he was momentarily caught in thrall.

She disappeared behind the wall that hid a small, efficient kitchenette. Released from thrall, Shan took a breath and went to the buffet for the tea things.

She was a bright light, his daughter—intelligent, Talented, and fierce. That they did not precisely know what her Talent happened to be, was, he suspected, of more concern to her elders than to Padi herself. She had little interest in Talents, despite being the daughter of a Healer who was lifemated to a Witch. No, Padi’s whole desire was to trade.

That she would someday wear the amethyst ring that marked out a master trader was not in doubt, though she had only recently achieved the trader’s garnet.

He put the tea tray in the center of the table, with the cups; dealt out the napkins and little plates, and returned to the buffet for the cake tin.

Even before Colemeno, Padi’s Gift had been—strange. Now, with Colemeno’s field acting upon it, she was almost too bright to behold.

He had weighed—doubtless overweighed!—the wisdom of bringing his unSorted, brilliant child to Colemeno, with its invigorating atmosphere. Thus the offer of an apprenticeship with one of Tree-and-Dragon’s most gifted traders. Padi, however, her eye on trade, had seen that participating in the opening of a port, and the possible design of a hub, would stand her in better stead than a merely interesting trade route.

Padi returned, bearing the teapot, and set it among the cups at the center of the table.

“A festive arrangement,” Shan said approvingly. “The only thing lacking is guests.”

A tone sounded, and the blue light over the hall doorway flashed twice.

Padi grinned.

“On cue. How do you manage that?”

“You won’t get my secrets that easily, Trader,” he answered.

He tapped the release button set into the table, and stood next to Padi as the door opened, admitting Portmaster krogerSlyte, followed by quite a young man with short red curls clinging to his skull like a cap, square face dominated by a pair of very dark brown eyes. He was wearing a simple tunic over flowing long pants. His face was composed, but his emotive pattern was a jumble of excitement, trepidation, and wariness.

“Master Trader yos’Galan.” Portmaster krogerSlyte stopped before the table and made one of the shapeless bows that served as courtesy on Colemeno. “I thank you for agreeing to see me so quickly. My purpose this evening is to make you known to Majel ziaGorn, Councilor and Chair of the Citizens Coalition. Councilor ziaGorn will be the liaison between the trade mission and the Council of the Civilized.”

“Councilor ziaGorn, we are well met.”

Shan bowed as to an honored colleague, having not yet mastered the Colemeno style. He moved a hand, directing attention to Padi.

“Allow me to make you known to my second, Trader Padi yos’Galan.”

“Councilor.” Padi’s bow was nearer to that offered by the portmaster. Shan owned himself impressed.

Majel ziaGorn attempted to reproduce Shan’s bow, which was bold of him, and not badly done, for a first effort.

“Master Trader. Trader. I am honored. I look forward to working with you and the rest of the trade mission.” His voice was calm and firm, despite his inner turmoil. A person of discipline, then, Shan thought. Excellent.

“Our colleagues are elsewhere at the moment,” he said. “However, let us see if we cannot contrive to allow you to meet them soon.” He moved his hands, showing them the table and the tea things waiting. “Please, sit and refresh yourselves while we establish some beginning protocols.”

Portmaster krogerSlyte lifted a regretful hand.

“My purpose is accomplished,” she said, “and duty will have me elsewhere. Please, traders, do not hesitate to call on me if I can be of service to you or to the trade mission. Councilor ziaGorn has my pledge of assistance as well.”

“Thank you, Portmaster,” the councilor said. “For your support.”

“Councilor, it is my pleasure,” she assured him, which Shan Heard as pure truth. She produced another bow in the direction of the table, and Shan came around to walk the short distance to the door with her.

“You have been everything that is helpful to strangers on your port,” he murmured, touching the plate.

Portmaster krogerSlyte bent a humorous look on him as the door opened.

“I foresee a time when you will not be strangers on my port,” she said calmly.

“May your Seeing be true,” Shan said, politely.

“Oh, I think it is,” she said. “All that’s required is to do the work. Until soon, sir.”

She stepped out into the hall, the door closed, and Shan returned to the table.

Padi was pouring tea. Councilor ziaGorn sat calmly, face and emotions still at odds.

“I find it noteworthy,” Shan said, taking his seat next to Padi, “how often simply doing the work will accomplish wonders. Do you find it so, Councilor?”

There was a flicker of something as the man lifted his dark gaze to Shan’s face.

“Master Trader, my life has been built on the belief that work is the foundation of success. Thank you, Trader.”

The last was directed to Padi, as he accepted a cup of tea from her.

“Please,” Shan said, “make free of the cake. We have both just come from a reception at the port market.”

“And you are therefore replete, with tea and with cake,” Councilor ziaGorn said, humor lifting a corner of his straight mouth.

Shan received his teacup from Padi with a smile, and looked at the guest with approval.

“Exactly. Trader yos’Galan was only just now remarking on how very much cake is on offer, everywhere we go.”

“Well, but it must be, mustn’t it? No one wants an incident. And cake is a very simple thing.”

“Very true,” Padi said. “And so we follow the path laid out for us, and offer tea and cake.”

She raised her cup and sipped, Shan and Councilor ziaGorn following suit.

“I appreciate your hospitality,” Councilor ziaGorn said seriously, when he had put his cup down.

“And we are pleased to offer it,” Padi said. “Please don’t imagine that I am going to force you to eat cake; it is merely there, should you desire it. I don’t wish to give the wrong impression.”

That won an actual laugh and a further settling of the councilor’s unruly emotions.

Shan hid his smile behind his teacup.

Well done, Padi, he thought.

He put his cup down and leaned forward somewhat, to meet the councilor’s eyes.

“What I propose, sir, is that we share contact information, and find a mutually agreeable time to introduce you to the rest of the team. Is this satisfactory to you? I assure you that I intend to do the work. Trader yos’Galan oversees me sternly in that regard.”

“I believe we all intend to do the work,” Councilor ziaGorn said. “I know that I’ve come to you, unexpected, at the end of a long day. Truthfully, I hadn’t hoped for an introduction so soon. I was only appointed by the Council this afternoon. Portmaster krogerSlyte has given me copies of her notes, but I haven’t had the chance to review them as yet.”

“Then we are agreed.”

Padi rose and went to the desk, returning with their general information packet, and the local card.

She put those items at the councilor’s elbow and resumed her seat.

“Those will give you some background on Tree-and-Dragon, on Clan Korval, and on the members of the trade mission,” Shan said. “Our local addresses and comm codes are on that card. Ah—”

He produced his case, extracted a card and handed it across to their liaison, who received it with wide eyes, and a return of some emotional tumult.

“Those codes are linked to Dutiful Passage. If you cannot find me locally, do not hesitate to use them.”

“I thank you,” Councilor ziaGorn whispered, and cleared his throat. “I am honored. I do know that master traders are not free with their cards, sir.”

Shan raised an eyebrow.

“You are our liaison, and we have all quite agreed that we are committed to getting the work done. You may never need it, but I would rather you had too much information, than too little.”

“Yes.” Councilor ziaGorn slipped the card into the tunic’s sleeve pocket. “I have nothing so organized to offer. I can give my codes and my address, if—”

Padi pulled out her notepad.

“Please,” she said. “They will be most helpful.”

“Majel ziaGorn,” he said, and recited his personal code and the one that would reach the offices of the Citizens Coalition. “You might also find me at my business, though it is somewhat out from the port. Cardfall Casino, on Riverview Street, in the Citizens Sector.” He recited that code, as well.

Padi inscribed it all while Shan fetched the screen from the desk, and brought up the team’s common schedule.

“The entire team is promised to the market manager for a tour of the facilities, first thing tomorrow. We are told that this will consume the better part of three hours. How are you fixed for the midday meal tomorrow?” he asked. “A working nuncheon is already on the schedule, and we may easily accommodate one—or even two!—more, should you have a second that you wish brought current. We will provide the meal, proper introductions will be made, and a list of topics and protocols drafted.”

“I believe we may also promise,” Padi murmured, “that there will be no cake.”

“Surely not!” Shan eyed her. “The cake must at least be present, Trader Padi.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Of course it must. What was I thinking?”

It was a fair imitation of him at his most vacuous. He gave her a nod and looked back to their new liaison, who had gone so far as to look—amused.

“Tomorrow, here, for the midday meal, introductions, and preliminary planning,” he said. “I anticipate it with pleasure.”

“Excellent,” said Shan, making a note in the calendar before he looked up and met the other man’s eyes. “Is there anything else that we ought to address immediately?”

“I believe we have made a good beginning,” said Councilor ziaGorn. He rose, bringing the information packet with him, and bowed, this time in the common Colemeno fashion.

“I leave you now to your rest.”

Shan rose and saw him to the door with another bow and murmured well-wishes.

When he returned Padi had already carried the tray into the kitchenette.

He put the cake tin away, and tidied the table.

Home, he thought, or at least the suite they had been granted, and some time in the company of his lifemate. A glass of wine would also be a comfort. Then, he had work to do.

“I’ll confirm our order with the caterer before I leave,” Padi said, recalling him to the present. “Shall I meet you here tomorrow, or at the market?”

Ah, yes, he thought; the facilities tour. And Padi was promised to her friend Tekelia this evening.

Shan took a breath and smiled.

“I think that we risk nothing with a separate arrival,” he said. “They will need to become accustomed to seeing us solitary at our work.”

“And it is not too soon to begin,” Padi said with a smile. “I will meet you at the market.”

She stepped to his side and rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

“I wish the master trader will allow my father some rest this evening,” she murmured, and Shan laughed.

“I’ll tell him you said so.”

* * *

“Yes, that is correct,” Padi told Catering Manager jakValin, at Skywise Provianto. “And that is against the Tree-and-Dragon draw account.”

“Yes, Trader. Will you wish servers?”

“We will serve ourselves.”

“Very good, Trader. The order will come to the Tree-and-Dragon office suite at the midday meal hour, tomorrow. Is there anything else?”

“Not at present, I thank you.”

“We are pleased to serve. Good evening to you, Trader.”

“Good evening,” Padi answered, and closed the connection.

She rose, and crossed the room, to be certain the door was locked, then returned to the table, where her case awaited her. She did have work to do this night, but Tekelia was an easy companion, and apt to have work of their own, after the evening meal was done. It would seem that the universe did not lack for work to be done.

She smiled slightly, picked up her case and murmured, “Tekelia.”

Mist swirled, or smoke, and Tekelia stood before her, in sweater, tough pants, and boots, dark hair caught back with what had been the extra hair ring Padi carried in her belt in case of need. There was a smile on the round, tan face, and the eyes at the moment were one amber, and one green.

“The meal is prepped and the wine is breathing. Will you join me?”

“With the greatest pleasure—yes,” Padi said, and stepped forward to take the arm offered to her.

Mist swirled, glittering briefly.

The office was empty.


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