Shadow and Betrayal

allowed conferences like this one, allowed them to play the deadly serious game of trade and barter.
    Once their decisions had been made and the details agreed upon, Amat arranged a time to bring the proposals by the compound. Doing business from a bathhouse was an affectation Wilsin-cha could only take so far, and dripping water on freshly inked contracts was where she drew the line. She knew he understood that. As she rose, prepared to face the remainder of her day, he held up a hand to stop her.
    ‘There’s one other thing,’ he said. She lowered herself back into the water. ‘I need a bodyguard this evening just before the half-candle. Nothing serious, just someone to help keep the dogs off.’
    Amat tilted her head. His voice was calm, its tone normal, but he wasn’t meeting her eyes. She held up her hands in a pose of query.
    ‘I have a meeting,’ he said, ‘in one of the low towns.’
    ‘Company business?’ Amat asked, keeping her voice neutral.
    He nodded.
    ‘I see,’ she said. Then, after a moment, ‘I’ll be at the compound at the half-candle, then.’
    ‘No. Amat, I need some house thug to swat off animals and make bandits think twice. What’s a woman with a cane going to do for me?’
    ‘I’ll bring a bodyguard with me.’
    ‘Just send him to me,’ Wilsin said with a final air. ‘I’ll take care of it from there.’
    ‘As you see fit. And when did the company begin conducting trade without me?’
    Marchat Wilsin grimaced and shook his head, muttering something to himself too low for her to catch. When he sighed, it sent a ripple that spilled some of the tea.
    ‘It’s a sensitive issue, Amat. That’s all. It’s something I’m taking care of myself. I’ll give you all the details when I can, but . . .’
    ‘But?’
    ‘It’s difficult. There are some details of the trade that . . . I’m going to have to keep quiet about.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘It’s the sad trade,’ he said. ‘The girl’s well enough along in the pregnancy that she’s showing. And there are some facets to getting rid of the baby that I need to address discreetly.’
    Amat felt herself bristle, but kept her tone calm as she spoke.
    ‘Ah. I see. Well, then. If you feel you can’t trust my discretion, I suppose you’d best not talk to me of it at all. Perhaps I might recommend someone else to take my position.’
    He slapped the water impatiently. Amat crossed her arms. It was a bluff in the sense that they both knew the house would struggle badly without her, and that she would be worse off without her position in it - it wasn’t a threat meant seriously. But she was the overseer of the house, and Amat didn’t like being kept outside her own business. Marchat’s pale face flushed red, but whether with annoyance or shame, she wasn’t sure.
    ‘Don’t break my stones over this one, Amat. I don’t like it any better than you do, but I can’t play this one any differently than I am. There is a trade. I’ll see to it. I’ll petition the Khai Saraykeht for use of his andat. I’ll see the girl’s taken care of before and after, and I’ll see that everyone who needs paying gets paid. I was in business before you signed on, you know. And I am your employer. You could assume I know what I’m doing.’
    ‘I was just going to say the same thing, pointed the other way. You’ve consulted me on your affairs for twenty years. If I haven’t done something to earn your mistrust—’
    ‘You haven’t.’
    ‘Then why shut me out of this when you never have before?’
    ‘If I could tell you that, I wouldn’t have to shut you out of it,’ Marchat said. ‘Just take it that it’s not my choice.’
    ‘Your uncle asked that I be left out? Or is it the client?’
    ‘I need a bodyguard. At the half-candle.’
    Amat took a complex pose of agreement that also held a nuance of annoyance. He wouldn’t catch the second meaning. Talking over his level was something she did when he’d upset her. She rose, and he scooped the lacquer tray closer and poured himself more tea.
    ‘The client. Can you tell me who she is?’ Amat asked.
    ‘No. Thank you, Amat,’ Wilsin said.
    In the women’s chamber again, she dried herself and dressed. The street, when she stepped into it, seemed louder, more annoying, than when she went in. She turned toward the House Wilsin compound, to the north and uphill. She had to pause at a waterseller’s stall, buy herself a drink, and rest in the shade to collect her thoughts. The sad