Silken Negotiations

Arriving at the small port that lay just outside the capital, where the river met the sea, Martel remembered his last trip to the place with the Night Knives. That journey had ended with them being ambushed on the return, so he kept his eyes open this time.

Not that he expected anything to happen while still on the streets; the city guards maintained a good presence in Smallport, and given its size, a patrol would never be far away. Added to that, the amount of people and traffic moving around made it difficult to accomplish a coordinated attack. Still, he kept watch for signs that might give him early warning of anything about to happen.

The carriage continued past the walls into the small harbour itself and what was basically a small town of its own, coming to a halt at one of the squares. The door to their transport opened, and the guard helped Lady Pearl descend to the street. Ruby followed with a mischievous look at Martel, who exited last.

"The ineffable Lady Pearl! Consider me charmed."

They all turned towards the speaker, a short man dressed dashingly in a doublet and black leather trousers. His hat, which he removed with an elegant bow, carried a large feather. While his clothes looked Asterian, he spoke the language with an accent unknown to Martel, and whereas most people here had brown eyes, his were entirely black.

"Master Domitian, I take it." Lady Pearl smiled as she extended a hand, which the man kissed. "An Asterian name for an islander. Curious."

"Whatever helps facilitate trade. Such is the Consortium's philosophy. In that spirit, may I offer the lady a drop of wine as refreshment? And perhaps cups of ale for her retinue."

"Most kind. You have a place for us to retire to?"

The islander nodded with a smile and made a sweeping gesture towards the tavern behind him. As he walked inside, Martel noticed another following, dressed as a clerk and looking rather self-effacing. Probably not an assassin, unless he played the role exceedingly well.

Inside, this Domitian sat at the table, as did Lady Pearl. Her guards walked up to the bar, drinking their ale, while cups of wine were brought to the table. Four in total, including one for him and Ruby. It seemed they were counted as part of the refined company, unlike the guards. Martel left his untouched; he noticed Ruby did not drink hers either.

***

Conversation between Domitian and Lady Pearl continued for a while, consisting mostly of pleasantries and a few allusions to business that went over Martel's head. He saw no weapons on the man; he wore plenty of jewellery, all of it golden in colour. Nothing to indicate an intent to harm, though, unless perhaps he hid something magical on his person. Martel wanted to extend his own sixth sense and get a feel, but inside the tavern packed with people, he would not be able to sort out the impressions. He would have to wait for an opportunity.

That came after a while. "If you feel ready, might I suggest a brief tour of my facilities? You can also inspect a sample of the merchandise," Domitian suggested.

Lady Pearl inclined her head in acknowledgement, and the two rose from the table. They all left, following the islander's lead out of the building. Martel did his best to stay close to Lady Pearl while keeping sharp watch of their surroundings as they progressed.

After a while, they entered a small warehouse; or rather, a part of it. The building itself was far larger than what they had access to, acting as a storage facility for any number of merchants that each had their own separate space. "The goods will remain here until your people are ready to pick them up. The building is under guard day and night. While the space is small, it will be more than adequate for our purposes, given the size of the goods."

"I have no doubt any warehouse in Smallport will suffice," Lady Pearl said, her voice affable yet conveying a desire to move on. "I care less about the location of the goods and more about the quality."

The islander bowed his head. "Of course." He moved towards a small chest in the back of the room; the only item present, in fact.

Martel glanced around meanwhile. The space was too small to hide any assailants. And it opened up to a wide street outside, which likewise made for a poor ambush site. Unless the islander pulled out a knife or something from the chest, it seemed Martel's suspicions were for naught.

Turning around, Domitian revealed his hands holding a thin bolt of fabric. He handed it over to Lady Pearl, who rubbed it between her fingers. Passing the cloth on to Ruby, she looked at their host. "And the details?"

"Five bolts next month, and ten every month after that."

"And the price? As offered, and only upon delivery?"

Domitian inclined his head. "Exactly."

Martel let his magic extend forward in case he had missed something. Nothing in the warehouse itself reached him. As for the islander, Martel sensed his body heat as expected, from top to toe, and nothing else. Same with the silk in Ruby's hands; ordinary fabric in terms of magic.

"As promised, the very finest all the way from Cathai. Are we satisfied?" Domitian asked.

"For now. You shall have my answer by letter soon," Lady Pearl told him.

With a round of pleasantries and farewells exchanged, they parted ways.

***

As the carriage rumbled through Smallport, taking them back to Morcaster, Martel was a little surprised; all his suspicions had been for naught. At least his obligations toward Lady Pearl had been met. He would have time tonight to practice some of his spellwork.

He became aware that the two women in the carriage stared at him. They had been discussing the meeting, which he had not paid any attention to, and now they looked expectantly at him. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Wizards really do have their heads in the clouds," Ruby teased.

"The silk. Or the man himself, for that matter. Did you notice any sign of magic on him? Anything to suggest he may have fooled our senses," Lady Pearl asked.

"None at all. You saw both the fabric and him. Not the tiniest shine or glow of magic on any of them." Martel looked out the window again, his mind distracted.

The women glanced at each other and chuckled. "Darling, did you think us mere mortals can see the signs of magic? No more than we can see the air," Lady Pearl informed him.

Martel frowned for a moment, digesting this. Obviously, magical effects were visible to everyone, such as when he summoned a flame. But magic itself, raw rather than bound into an element – the thought had just never crossed Martel's mind, as he had never really considered the nature of magic. That it existed by itself, invisible except to those touched by it.

"I don't suppose any magical artefacts on his person would work with all his golden jewellery," Ruby considered.

"Oh no, none of it is real. I guess it must be brass," Martel speculated. "I can say with certainty he wore neither magic nor gold."

Lady Pearl gave him a sharp look. "You are certain?"

"Believe me, as a mage, I would have known. You can't hide gold from a wizard," he insisted, eager to regain some of his standing.

"Now that is curious. A man claiming to deal in silk from Cathai, yet unable to afford real jewellery? Darling, I think you answered a valuable question for me."

Martel was unsure what she meant, his thoughts already elsewhere, and he did not feel like asking; he spent the remainder of the journey in silence, trying to ignore Ruby's scrutinising gaze.