“No. As far as I can tell, he goes out every day – well, the days when he’s not overseeing a negotiation like this – and works the fields. They treat all farmers like that, lavish them with attention and respect.”
Rysn gaped. “But most villages are
“Indeed,” Vstim said. “Holy places, here. Foreigners aren’t allowed near fields or farming villages.”
Kylrm and his guards didn’t look terribly pleased at being so heavily outnumbered, but Vstim didn’t seem bothered. Once the Shin grew close, he walked out from his wagons without a hint of trepidation. Rysn hurried after him, her skirt brushing the grass below.
Vstim met up with the Shin, then bowed in a distinctive way, hands toward the ground. “
The man in the cloak – the
“Thank you, Thresh-son-Esan,” Vstim said. “And my thanks to he who adds.”
“What have you brought for us from your strange lands, friend?” Thresh said. “More metal, I hope?”
Vstim waved and some of the guards brought over a heavy crate. They set it down and pried off the top, revealing its peculiar contents. Pieces of scrap metal, mostly shaped like bits of shell, though some were formed like pieces of wood. It looked to Rysn like garbage that had– for some inexplicable reason – been Soulcast into metal.
“Ah,” Thresh said, squatting down to inspect the box. “Wonderful!”
“Not a bit of it was mined,” Vstim said. “No rocks were broken or smelted to get this metal, Thresh. It was Soulcast from shells, bark, or branches. I have a document sealed by five separate Thaylen notaries attesting to it.”
“You needn’t have done such a thing as this,” Thresh said. “You have once earned our trust in this matter long ago.”
“I’d rather be proper about it,” Vstim said. “A merchant who is careless with contracts is one who finds himself with enemies instead of friends.”
Thresh stood up, clapping three times. The men in brown with the downcast eyes lowered the back of a wagon, revealing crates.
“The others who visit us,” Thresh noted, walking to the wagon. “All they seem to care about are horses. Everyone wishes to buy horses. But never you, my friend. Why is that?”
“Too hard to care for,” Vstim said, walking with Thresh. “And there’s too often a poor return on the investment, valuable as they are.”
“But not with these?” Thresh said, picking up one of the light crates. There was something alive inside.
“Not at all,” Vstim said. “Chickens fetch a good price, and they’re easy to care for, assuming you have feed.”
“We brought you plenty,” Thresh said. “I cannot believe you buy these from us. They are not worth nearly so much as you outsiders think. And you give us metal for them! Metal that bears no stain of broken rock. A miracle.”
Vstim shrugged. “Those scraps are practically worthless where I come from. They’re made by ardents practicing with Soulcasters. They can’t make food, because if you get it wrong, it’s poisonous. So they turn garbage into metal and throw it away.”
“But it can be forged!”
“Why forge the metal,” Vstim said, “when you can carve an object from wood in the precise shape you want,
Thresh just shook his head, bemused. Rysn watched with her own share of confusion. This was the
In fact, as conversation proceeded, the two both took pains to explain how worthless their goods were. Eventually, they came to an agreement – though Rysn couldn’t grasp how – and shook hands on the deal. Some of Thresh’s soldiers began to unload their boxes of chickens, cloth, and exotic dried meats. Others began carting away boxes of scrap metal.
“You couldn’t trade me a soldier, could you?” Vstim asked as they waited.
“They cannot be sold to an outsider, I am afraid.”
“But there was that one you traded me…”
“It’s been nearly seven years!” Thresh said with a laugh. “And still you ask!”
“You don’t know what I got for him,” Vstim said. “And you gave him to me for practically nothing!”
“He was Truthless,” Thresh said, shrugging. “He wasn’t worth anything at all. You