WWG: Striking a Deal, G (Trade Winds)
Jul 11, 2020 10:08:32 GMT 10
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Post by mistrali on Jul 11, 2020 10:08:32 GMT 10
Series: Trade Winds
Title: Striking a Deal
Rating: G
Prompt: The Gift that Keeps Giving (500+ words)
Event: Glake Triathlon 2020 (Summer/Winter).
Words: 608
Summary: (including warnings) Polyam makes a deal. Warnings: minor ableism (canon-level).
____
Tenth Caravan Idaram, en route to The Realms of the Sun, the fifth day of Blood Moon, 1036 KF
At sunset, after they’d halted for the night, one of the children delivered a summons to the gilav’s tent. Polyam sighed, set aside her currying brush and climbed down the caravan steps: when Gilav Chandrisa wanted something, you set to. Whatever the purpose of the visit, Polyam would bet gold it wasn’t to give her a pay rise and an extra tea ration. At least no-one can accuse Mother of favouring me, she thought wryly.
“Our customers are asking for another item like the iron tree, on credit, and Daja refuses to trade with anyone other than you,” said Mother. Her expression was flat in the soft golden glow of the lanterns, her voice as sour as though she’d swallowed a pickled lemon. “She turned down two of our best daka. I don’t know what you did to make her so set on you -“ she glared at Polyam’s iron leg as though it had affronted her — “but we can’t afford to lose any more zokin.”
Polyam caught her breath. She’d thought that Gold Ridge would be their last meeting as buyer and seller; that once Daja was no longer trangshi, Mother would send a high-status daka to avoid spreading Polyam’s bad luck. She hadn’t reckoned on Daja herself - or on her friends and teachers.
The noble girl had said, “They’ll think you bargained until Daja was addled, to get her to sell at a price like that.” But Daja had been the one to wear Polyam down. Like all her people, Polyam had learnt bargaining from the cradle and she’d never seen anyone, whether Tsaw’ha, xurdin or merchant, give ground like Daja had. She thought she understood, now, why her friend had chosen to stay a smith. Any lugsha-mimander (what an impossibility that phrase would have been, two months ago) who made such marvels by accident would have a bright future in trade. Free of the ties of family, Daja could craft as she wished, but still be Tsaw’ha.
And it wasn’t just that tradition Daja had overturned.
With a flash of mingled guilt and gratitude, Polyam remembered Daja proclaiming that trade must be done directly with her, as trangshi, or not at all. This next deal would mean at least six months’ business for the caravan. A successful sale would generate enough zokin that Mother would have to offer Polyam more contracts, as Trader custom dictated. Here again Polyam had the advantage; she had something they wanted. Time to press it home. Please, Trader and Bookkeeper, let this work.
]“I’ll seal the trade,” she said quietly, “on one condition.”
Mother froze in the middle of tending the fire. Eyes the colour of woodsmoke snapped to Polyam’s face and scrutinised it. “What condition?”
“That I conduct all transactions with these customers. Not just the final trade with Daja on our next trip to Summersea, but everything. From start to finish, without interference from you or any of the other daka.”
Mother’s eyes widened, making her crow’s feet stretch. Then, slowly, she nodded and plucked two keys from a drawer.
“The keys to the stores,” she said a little stiffly, offering them to Polyam in the palm of one azure-bangled hand. “Choose what you feel would appeal to Yanjingyi nobles. Do not disgrace me or Tenth Caravan Idaram.”
Silently Polyam took it, inclined her head and threaded her way down the moonlit string of parked caravans, towards the cargo hold. Only when she reached it did she close her eye in relief. She would light an extra incense stick to Oti tonight, for Daja and her saati in Emelan.
Title: Striking a Deal
Rating: G
Prompt: The Gift that Keeps Giving (500+ words)
Event: Glake Triathlon 2020 (Summer/Winter).
Words: 608
Summary: (including warnings) Polyam makes a deal. Warnings: minor ableism (canon-level).
____
Tenth Caravan Idaram, en route to The Realms of the Sun, the fifth day of Blood Moon, 1036 KF
At sunset, after they’d halted for the night, one of the children delivered a summons to the gilav’s tent. Polyam sighed, set aside her currying brush and climbed down the caravan steps: when Gilav Chandrisa wanted something, you set to. Whatever the purpose of the visit, Polyam would bet gold it wasn’t to give her a pay rise and an extra tea ration. At least no-one can accuse Mother of favouring me, she thought wryly.
“Our customers are asking for another item like the iron tree, on credit, and Daja refuses to trade with anyone other than you,” said Mother. Her expression was flat in the soft golden glow of the lanterns, her voice as sour as though she’d swallowed a pickled lemon. “She turned down two of our best daka. I don’t know what you did to make her so set on you -“ she glared at Polyam’s iron leg as though it had affronted her — “but we can’t afford to lose any more zokin.”
Polyam caught her breath. She’d thought that Gold Ridge would be their last meeting as buyer and seller; that once Daja was no longer trangshi, Mother would send a high-status daka to avoid spreading Polyam’s bad luck. She hadn’t reckoned on Daja herself - or on her friends and teachers.
The noble girl had said, “They’ll think you bargained until Daja was addled, to get her to sell at a price like that.” But Daja had been the one to wear Polyam down. Like all her people, Polyam had learnt bargaining from the cradle and she’d never seen anyone, whether Tsaw’ha, xurdin or merchant, give ground like Daja had. She thought she understood, now, why her friend had chosen to stay a smith. Any lugsha-mimander (what an impossibility that phrase would have been, two months ago) who made such marvels by accident would have a bright future in trade. Free of the ties of family, Daja could craft as she wished, but still be Tsaw’ha.
And it wasn’t just that tradition Daja had overturned.
With a flash of mingled guilt and gratitude, Polyam remembered Daja proclaiming that trade must be done directly with her, as trangshi, or not at all. This next deal would mean at least six months’ business for the caravan. A successful sale would generate enough zokin that Mother would have to offer Polyam more contracts, as Trader custom dictated. Here again Polyam had the advantage; she had something they wanted. Time to press it home. Please, Trader and Bookkeeper, let this work.
]“I’ll seal the trade,” she said quietly, “on one condition.”
Mother froze in the middle of tending the fire. Eyes the colour of woodsmoke snapped to Polyam’s face and scrutinised it. “What condition?”
“That I conduct all transactions with these customers. Not just the final trade with Daja on our next trip to Summersea, but everything. From start to finish, without interference from you or any of the other daka.”
Mother’s eyes widened, making her crow’s feet stretch. Then, slowly, she nodded and plucked two keys from a drawer.
“The keys to the stores,” she said a little stiffly, offering them to Polyam in the palm of one azure-bangled hand. “Choose what you feel would appeal to Yanjingyi nobles. Do not disgrace me or Tenth Caravan Idaram.”
Silently Polyam took it, inclined her head and threaded her way down the moonlit string of parked caravans, towards the cargo hold. Only when she reached it did she close her eye in relief. She would light an extra incense stick to Oti tonight, for Daja and her saati in Emelan.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!