The way Ravia stood up told me the man who entered was important, along with how he just interrupted this negotiation. If the guards at the door, the stairs and the hallway outside let him in…

"Ah, father," Ravia said with a nod. "Endlew spoke to you, I take it? Master Rian, this is my father Emborin, the head of our merchant house."

Well, that confirmed it.

I gave Ravia's father a quick glance up and down. He wasn't very tall, standing at about his son's height, but had the stocky build of someone who'd done a lot of heavy lifting for a long time. His muscles were still thick, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was the type who didn't care about getting his hands dirty, hauling things himself. His wide waistline was probably as much muscle as fat, but his orange hair was going pale at the temples, the pale pastel orange standing out against the darker hair on the rest of his head. Even if it wasn't required, I stood up respectfully, giving them a welcoming smile. It was always a good idea to be respectful to someone's whose beads you were going to take, especially when it was a large amount of beads. "Good day, Master Emborin. To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"

He didn't smile back, his expression remaining smooth and serious despite all the wrinkles on it. "Master Rian. I hear you're the one with the ice boat who can keep it from tipping over." His voice was as deep as you'd expect, with a slight grating quality like he had a mouthful of rocks. Not unpleasant, but surprising after dealing with Ravia.

I shrugged. "It helps to know what you're doing."

The man let out a low chuckle as he walked over to the other side of the table. "I suppose it does. Are you going to be teaching everyone how to do it themselves?"

"Unfortunately, I don't have the time. Lots of things to take care of at home, you know?"

Emborin nodded as he sat where Ravia had been, his son sitting next to him as I settled back onto my seat. He picked up one of the wispbeads from the handkerchief with thick but deft fingers, rolling them across his fingertips. "So… these are the wispbeads… yes, they're far too big to have been swallowed or used before."

"We were discussing Rian borrowing one of our scales so he can weigh the beads he has and calculate a reasonable price per sengrain," Ravia said. "At the moment, he is asking for ten bead-tani per wispbead."

The older man's eyes rose, though I couldn't tell it was genuine surprise or confusion, or purely for my benefit. "For a large bead?"

Well, as a conversational prop, it didn't matter. I shrugged. "Our demesne isn't Taniar-approved, so even if we put denominations on our bead, that value would only mean anything in our own demesne. Outside of our demesne, its greatest value would be as a fuel for bound tools and for use by Whisperers themselves. We all know how that's going right now. The only way we'd make a reasonable profit is if it's cheaper to buy and use than the remaining denominations of large wispbeads. Depending on how the demesne the beads come from organizes it, the remaining large beads left to use probably cost anything from a hundred to two thousand bead-tani." No one was going to be using double-large wispbeads for their bound tools. They'd never make enough to justify it.

I didn't lose anything by admitting that. A small mid-large bead was almost always denominated at ten bead-tani, unless it was one of those demesnes where the Dungeon Binder has all the beads there valued at one and prime numbers, or all the beads have denominations that were multiples of seven.

Everyone hated dealing with beads from those demesnes.

Theoretically, I could raise the price all the way up to just under the value of a large mid-large bead, but in practice, the cost of the bead was best equal to or much less than the price of hiring a Whisperer to imbue the bound tool themselves. I'd probably putting some Whisperers out of work for a little while, but only as long as the supply of wispbeads locally available lasted, and Whisperers would always be in demand somewhere. They could take up a rewarding new career in salt extraction, for one. I wouldn't be surprised if some of the boats out at sea were evaporating their water with a hired Whisperer.

Both Emborin and Ravia nodded in agreement, either realizing this line of thought themselves or simply agree with my reasoning.

"But," I continued, "to be honest, we don't have the time, resources or infrastructure to sell the beads ourselves. Even if we were inclined to, we'd immediately lose our profits acquiring some sort of premises, local taxes, paying for security against the gangs I keep hearing about—" while there had always been criminality in Covehold, the carpenters I spoke to yesterday all warned me of the recent rise in gang behavior, "—and all those fun things…" I shook my head. "I'd rather sell them to you and have you deal with all that."

"How honest of you," Ravia said dryly.

My reply was a shrug and a shameless grin. "You already know who to talk to about all these things. I know how government corruption works. I'd rather not lose all my profits just to be able to pay my taxes in a timely manner."

"It's not quite that bad," the younger merchant said, "but I take your point. So you'll simply sell them to us?"

"I was thinking more of a partnership," I said. "You'd have the exclusive contract to sell and distribute our wispbeads to the workshops of Covehold and the Whisperers of the surrounding area. In exchange, you'd probably need to be the one to deal with any government interference and eventual regulation, taxation and other issues that will no doubt arise."

"Exclusive, you say?"

I nod. "Exclusive. While we might get more if we approach another merchant house, or even pit the houses in a bidding war, that would take too long, cause needless and avoidable ill will, and would surely draw the attention of Covehold Demesne's lords and perhaps even the Dungeon Binder, no doubt accelerating government interference." I shrugged. "No, what's important is to start selling these beads to workshops with bound tools and Whisperers who want them as soon as possible. The faster people buy them, the faster we can both make a profit."

"Interesting. And what would your stake be in this?" Ravia said.

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I glanced at Emborin, who was watching me intently, letting him know I hadn't forgotten him. They were actually going easy on me, having Ravia doing all the talking. I had no doubt the father could be more aggressive, pressuring me with supposed urgency and added costs that would sound so reasonable to get me to try and concede larger shares or a lower price. "Why, we provide the product and transport it to you, of course. After all, there's nothing to sell without product."

"It doesn't seem like much, considering what we will have to deal with."

"You're welcome to develop the means of producing wispbeads on your own."

Ravia nodded, conceding the point, then glanced at his father. "I admit, the offer is tempting, but I'd like more information on some details."

"Such as?" The hard questions would no doubt be coming.

"How often will you be able to deliver beads to us?"

"I'm afraid it will not be regularly. Not weekly, certainly, and I doubt we'll be able to manage monthly. Once every two months, perhaps, outside of winter," I admitted honestly. "Truthfully, we'd have been here sooner, but my Dungeon Binder wanted to wait to see if there would be a dragon this summer, since travelling would be relatively safer during the period after one passed."

"That does not bode well for having a regular supply," Emborin finally said, tone mildly disapproving.

"It isn't," I admitted readily. "However, that's because we're limited to the resources we have now. Part of the reason I'm here was to recruit Deadspeakers to allow us to build better boats. As nice as the Coldhold is, it could be better. Faster, certainly."

Ravia opened his mouth to respond, then paused. "The… Coldhold?"

"Inaccurate, I know, but it seemed like a good name with all the ice that went into building it."

"I… see." He shook his head as if to banish the tangent. "Well, regardless, having an unreliable or at least irregular supplier is not desirable. Can't you commit to more regular times?"

"Not at this time, no," I said. "As I said, even if I wanted to commit, our resources as they stand make the voyage dangerous. Besides, while having an irregular supplier is inconvenient, I'm sure a merchant can use the reality of a limited supply to raise the price of goods a little, at least until the next delivery."

"That's not a practice we approve of," Ravia said with a glance at his father, who was frowning.

"Then don't," I said. "You're experienced at this, I'm sure you can come up with some kind of solution to the problem of low supply and high demand beyond the usual. It's not like you're going to have any competition. And if we have competition, it means we no longer have a monopoly and you have another supplier of beads." I shrugged. "But as to regular times, we might be able to improve matters in a few months once we've built a better boat. As it is, I can't really promise a resupply sooner than two, perhaps three months, and none at all in the winter. Perhaps when we have more resources, it can be faster, but until then…"

"I see…" Ravia said. "That is unfortunate. Is there anything else we should know?"

"Nothing that I feel you need to be informed of before you commit yourselves to partnering with us," I said. "You know how it is."

"Why us?" Emborin said, and Ravia visibly sat back in his chair as I turned to face his father. "Why not some other merchant house? The Valmert Trading Company would have agreed to any price you named, and so would the Covehold Merchant Partnership."

"Because everything I've found out about you, and my own dealings, tells me you're fair, reliable, and honest," I said. "Your neighbors don't resent you, your workers respect you, and your customers like you. There are probably worse people to approach about this, but it will take a lot of work on my part to find someone better. And to be perfectly honest, I don't have that long. Our Dungeon Binder wants us all back home soon."

"You've dealt with us twice," Emborin said. "You're willing to trust us after that?"

"No, of course not," was my cheerful reply, which made them blink, though likely it was because of the tone. "There's no trust in insisting you pay me for the beads on the same day you receive them. Trust is what grows from what happens in between. If you refuse… well, then I'm going to be spending the next few days having to look for another partner in this, on top of all the things I already have to do. I'd bid you good day, take the beads for my salt and skins, and maybe come back later for some things I don't have time to look for on my own."

"You'd come back?" Ravia said, clearly both amused and bemused by the statement.

"Well, yes. You still owe me a recommendation and I have no idea where to get any of the things in my shopping list. I have no idea where to find a good papermaker, for one thing, much less where I might be able to buy cloudbloom seeds or seedlings or whatever."

Ravia chuckled somewhat self-consciously as his father glanced at him. Ah. No wonder the older man didn't smile much. That expression was slightly unnerving if you weren't used to it. Still, I took him having so many laugh lines on his face was a good sign. "Ah. Yes, I do still owe you a recommendation. Sorry, it slipped my mind."

I waved my hand in the gesture Lori was so fond of. "Happens to my Dungeon Binder all the time. I'd recommend writing a note to yourself on a rock and keeping it in your pocket." My expression became slightly more serious as I looked them both in the eye. "Now, I'm a reasonable man. I understand if you need to speak with some other people before coming to a decision about this. I can give you one…no, two days to consider."

"Why that long?" Ravia asked.

"Because we'll be leaving soon after that, and if you decide 'yes', you'll need some time to properly inventory all the beads, and maybe another day or two to put together the other things on my shopping list that I'll be able to afford then. After that, we'll be leaving. And if you refuse, I'll need that time to find some other merchant house willing to take this deal."

"You're not going to look for another merchant house while we deliberate?"

I shrugged. "That's my problem, isn't it?"

Ravia shrugged and nodded at the same time, conceding the point, then glanced sideways at the older merchant next to him. "Father?"

Emborin stared at the bead on the handkerchief. Then he nodded. "Could you come back at noon, Master Rian? We'll have your answer—and the beads for your salt and other goods—ready for you then."

I nodded, then paused. "I don't suppose I can get a little advance on that salt money? I promised the men lunch."

The older merchant glanced at the two men at my back, and nodded. "Of course. Ravia, see that Master is given an advance from the petty beads, will you? Then wait for me in my office."

"Yes, father," Ravia said as the man rose and gave me one more nod before leaving the room.

"He seems nice," I commented. "Reminds me of my father."

Ravia gave me a quick smile. "If you'll come with me, Rian, I'll collect your advance, and we can weigh your beads on the office scales."

Ah, right. It had almost slipped my mind. I wished I had a convenient rock to write it on. "Lead the way," I said as I collected the beads from the table.

The young merchant smiled when I asked to weigh the large small-mid bead I'd gotten yesterday, which incidentally came up to twenty and eight-tenth grains in weight. The wispbead came up to twenty-one and three-tenths. I said nothing at either number, simply committing them to memory.

Ravia quickly counted out two hundred bead-tani—thankfully in an assortment of beads and not simply two large mid-large beads—handing them to me along with a little receipt noting the amount was being deducted from the totals of our contract. This time he pointedly didn't stare as I put the beads in my belt pouch—which would need to go under my shirt again, and the handkerchief and glowing rock had to be used as a separator—as I put them in.

"Here," I said, putting one of the wispbeads on Ravia's desk as I stood up. "For demonstration purposes."

It was, quite frankly, impressive how Ravia seemed to just wave his hand over the bead and it disappeared from the table, tucked into his palm. "Thank you, Rian," he said. "And… thank you."

I shrugged. "I hope you remember you said that when things get complicated," I said as he led me back towards the stairs, nodding at the guard there to let me though.

Now, where do we go eat?