Is There Any Task Which, Done Once, Is Not Done Faster A Second Time?
Dozens of Adabans assembled just outside of Fennizen a week later. Dozens but not a hundred, because the countries in question would never let that many in at once. Suppose some of them were condottieri in disguise, each capable of overcoming a city of reasonable greatness in a single day? Recent events had not made anyone less wary of the wily aggression often exhibited by Greater Enloffenkir's constituents.
Stadeskosken had gathered loads of sellables from comparatively southerly and westerly regions sure to be in demand in the north and east. There was mabonnpaper along with paper of other sizes and thicknesses also produced in Mabonn states, for they were the most accomplished in that field on all the continent of Egillen. Company branches located in the Ottkir territories sent over pearls, many of them cultivated by human ingenuity using techniques the Ottkirs refused to share. Grapes and grape-related products came from all over, but especially from Rikenlikneher lands. The Fennizen storehouses were already loaded with yams from the previous harvest, hauled there from the far southern GE states surrounded by Chtrebliseu for mass Preservation Ritual purposes; surely the northerners would enjoy those. The Adabans themselves contributed the best metal tools on the continent as conceded by everyone, in their hearts if not aloud.
Stadeskosken also included in the cargo a portable strongbox full of battinkirs and plaftinkirs, the standardized silver and gold bars used in Greater Enloffenkir. They would be needed in the event of currency exchanges, bribes, promising investments, or deals on northern goods too profitable to pass up. Dirant's fingers twitched when he watched plaftinkirs being loaded, the first time he had seen any in person. Each one represented more wealth than he was paid in a year and more than he was ever likely to possess at one time. Many of the employees sometimes saw the silver bars at least pass into or out of the main offices during work hours, but since those metals required no preservation or mold prevention, Ritualists caught sight of them only by chance.
Beyond that, the firm also dealt in goods produced outside Greater Enloffenkir and had not neglected to purchase some for its own use. Chtrebliseuan llama wool and delicate woodwinds the experts deemed a match for Pavvu stringed instruments, silver from the mines of Saueyi whether plain or already wrought into pleasing forms, Ililish Ashurin's amber (intended for Yean Defiafi since company research indicated the sea currents gave Pavvu Omme Os its own supply), Stegzin silk, and far more beside. Well, not too much more. Limitations on weight and manpower made items such as pipe organs undesirable.
Still, it was a lot of stuff. Wessolp as a whole never shipped so much north as Haderslant's Stadeskosken did then in any of the years it was allowed to do so. Silapobenk Rikelta, the owner's oldest son and presumed successor, went along to direct the expedition personally. Two of the other sons, Silapobezor and Dirant, also accompanied the trade mission, a powerful familial showing for a grand undertaking.
Grand and slow, as Dirant realized he would not have considered the journey had he not taken his reckless religious vacation. The convoy took two days to travel what he had managed in less than one. It stopped at every town, it seemed to him, between Fennizen and Wessolp. He had no memory of Pelmit whatsoever from his earlier trip, but forever after knew it as the place where Silone insisted employees could fit five to a bed till the impartial evidence of measurements made with the assistance of rulers went against him.
The languid pace gave Dirant a chance to try out some of his new prayers. In addition to making inquiries about possible Pickers with Edition Freeze on the staff or in some rival company which turned up nothing, he had spent the week before the venture researching theological subjects. Unfortunately, existing prayers disappointed him. Many implored Mitistiggefokand to help the supplicant through a present legal difficulty or thanked him for having done so, neither of which applied to Dirant. Worse, none of them called the god Holzd, which he had been explicitly instructed to do. Some Ritualist inventiveness solved that problem. He took the other category of prayer, the kind where the devoted recognized the previous feats of the gods, and stuck “Holzd” in there along with some epithets he devised himself. “The laws obscure in their implications became lucid through you, revolving-eyed Holzd.” That sort of thing. He thought it sounded respectable enough as a basis for a more elaborate request he was working up to about pointing him toward an appropriate Picker.
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After six years, or perhaps long into the fourth day depending on the clock used, the convoy hauled into Wessolp where the mayor had promised to ensure reasonable accommodations in exchange for a reasonable fee on top of what Haderslant had paid for the market rights. Silone walked ahead to meet with the authorities, and he wished that Dirtwo come with him.
“You should learn how this sort of thing is done. Peace, I mean.”
“I already know how that is best accomplished. The mayor and I never meet. Everything goes smoothly.” Dirant's proposal made sense to him, but Silone nevertheless dragged him along only to be disappointed when they were greeted by Lord Mayor Odinol Emmofoken's wife rather than the man himself.
“Ah, she doesn't know you.” Silone's frown showed well his disappointment that a serious incident was averted.
While a relief for Dirant because of the particular circumstances, in the normal course of affairs he would have taken that as an occasion for lamentation, since she was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the sort people without even thinking about it called raven-haired instead of dark-haired and ethereal rather than pale. The nature of the dispute between Wessolp and Patkaodotenlilk created the impression in outsiders that Councilor Sintaf Aomalptig had experienced some trouble in getting his Aomag a husband, for which reason many presumed her to be homely at best. So much for that. Perhaps her voice and manner gave offense.
Aomag curtsied. “Welcome to the halcyon city of Wessolp, gentlemen.” Her soft words seemed to pass through the ear as spice does the throat and warms one's body as it makes its way through. Dirant was running out of ideas. “Everything has of course been arranged, but if there is any . . . Him?” A subordinate was whispering to her and pointing toward the delegation. At Dirant Rikelta. “You!”
Mrs. Odinol stomped toward him, and if she left no craters in the ground it was a testament to the engineer who came up with the cement mix used for the street they were on. “How could you vex my blameless husband so utterly? Is there righteousness left in any heart anywhere, or did selfishness and greed drive it out with drums and terrible weapons? Oh, the one desire I want fulfilled right now is for Papa and that Kelnsolt to appear at this moment so I can scold all three of you at once, because if I do it singly you three might take it as an honor that you're worth so much time and breath!”
Dirant was retreating in good order from the oncoming mayor's wife, with no assistance from Silone of course, but he realized he could improve upon his withdrawal by distracting the enemy. His observation of condottiero methods had shown him the value in that. In fact, he had forgone preparing and delaying another Lightning Ritual in favor of a Fascination Ritual for just that reason, not that he judged it wise to deploy any rituals at the present moment. He tried a verbal deflection of blame first. “It was not a matter of gain for me, and I acted as I did only with the aim of fulfilling a religious obligation.” He thought Aomag slowed a bit and decided to throw in something for his old partner's sake. “And for Kelnsolt, a contract must be carried out regardless of his inclination if he is to remain a professional.”
The assault was unquestionably abating. Aomag Aomalptig relented so far as to cross her arms while she scowled rather than stretch both hands in the direction of Dirant's throat. “It was wrong of him to take it up in the first place. Hmph. The temple people did make a great fuss over their statue. They said good tidings were assured. I don't see much of a reason to believe myself, but they seemed so happy. They even threw a rich feast that cheered everyone up nicely after what you did.”
“There was at least one man in the city who needed no cheering by then. Neither can he hope for future blessings, because nothing can surpass this one here.” Lord Mayor Odinol Emmofoken walked up and collected his wife, who squealed and pretended to attempt to shove him away. “Pardon me my lateness, sir. I inadvertently forced you to see something undignified.” He bowed to Silapobenk.
“By no means, Your Honor,” Stadeskosken's representative responded.
Dirant began to review his preconceptions as to the nature of the incidents his father hoped to avoid by staffing the expedition with married employees. Certainly he, as a single young man, wished to punch a mayor right about then, whereas the far more married Silone had viewed the entire sequence with equanimity. And amusement, but that was a separate issue.