"We haven't much time," he said to Tebedir. "Shade Hour is coming. Everything closes down."

Beyond Crow's Gate Field, the road split into three. Kesh directed Tebedir to drive to the right, and they soon rolled into Gadria's Oval, commonly known as Flesh Alley.

The broad oval, which maintained a surprising bit of grass, was ringed by stately ironwood trees and by the accounts houses and holding pens for merchants who specialized in buying and selling debt, or paupers and criminals destined for slavery. In the middle of the oval rose the stepped marble platform with its spectacular ornamented roof, where at this moment a pair of boys, guarded by bored hirelings, were being offered for sale. The crowd was sparse. Many turned to look at the wagon. It was not an exciting day at the market.

"The house with the mark of three rings," he said.

The master of the Three Rings offered shade and water gratis to any customers or purveyors arriving by cart or wagon. Kesh got Tebedir settled, then opened the door of the wagon.

"Moy! Tay!"

They ventured out cautiously, staring around with wide eyes. They looked at him, at the accounts house with its open doors, then saw the marble platform and the business going on there. The younger girl whispered fiercely to her sister, and they clutched hands, bent their heads, and waited.

"Come on," he said, not liking to look at them. It wasn't right to go so meekly. He would have respected them more had they raged and fought against their fate, but they never had. They had come to him obediently, and it seemed they would leave the same way.

He herded them up to an open door and inside. The room was empty except for a two-stepped wooden platform, ringed by a rail, that stood in the middle. There was nothing else, only tall windows open to admit as much light as possible, and the packed earth floor. Kesh closed the door and rang the bell hanging from a hook to the left of the entryway. He led the girls up onto the platform, where they stood holding on to the railing and looking around with frightened expressions. Yet, knowing a bit about them from the long journey, he understood they had long since accepted their fortune. Neither cried. They still held hands.

The spy window opened and, after a moment, closed. Footsteps pattered away within the house. From outside, the patter of the auctioneer wound up and down. A dog barked. Wheels ground along the dirt.

The inner door slid open, and Merchant Calon stepped down into the room.

"Keshad! I knew you would bring me something of value!" He was a tidy man, narrow, neat, and dressed in an austere tunic scarcely more than what an honored slave might wear. He circled the girls, who watched him as mice might eye a stoat. They did not whimper or cry. In their own way, they had courage. "This looks promising in a month in which I have suffered many disappointments. Quite unique." Calon called into the house, where a figure stood half in shadow beyond the door. "Where is Malia?"

"She is coming, exalted."

"Listen," said Kesh. "We have dealt fairly with each other for several years now. I have always brought you the best of what I've found in the south."

"So you have. I think we have both profited."

"I know Malia will want to inspect them first, but let me speak bluntly. Offer me a fair price, and I won't haggle."

Calon paused and, without looking at Kesh, touched first the ivory bracelet on his left wrist, and after this the one on his right.

"I call them Moy and Tay, which means in their language 'one' and 'two.' Tay is not yet in her bleeding. The elder girl is also young, a year or two older. They may be sisters. That wasn't clear to me when I obtained them. They have not given me a moment's trouble on the long journey, nor did they ever try to escape."

An elderly woman appeared at the door, leaning on a cane of polished ebony. She wore both bronze slave bracelets and the ivory bracelets reserved for those who were free. "Keshad," she said in her spider's voice, whispery and tough. Her smile was tenuous. She was not, in Kesh's estimation, a cruel woman, but she was not compassionate either. "What have you got here? Southern. Look at those complexions. Very fine."

Calon rang the bell twice. A servant appeared with a trio of silver goblets, each half full of sweet cordial. He offered one to Kesh. The two men turned their backs so Malia could inspect the girls closely. Kesh sipped as cloth rustled and slipped, as each girl spoke a few words and, when Malia sang a phrase, mimicked her. They had voices as sweet and clear as the cordial. Feet and hands and teeth would be examined, and skin and body prodded and stroked.

Malia took her time, most of it in silence. Kesh sipped.

"What news from Master Feden's house?" Calon asked with seeming casualness.

"We just walked in today through Crow's Gate. I came here first."

Calon grinned. "I see. Best not to let Feden's fat fist grab the best of your merchandise. He would only find a way to cheat you, him and the other Greater Houses."

"I never said so."

Calon nodded. "Nor can you, so I'll say it for you. Those who sit at the voting table with a majority of votes held to themselves can play the tune the rest of us must dance to. They see only what is good for themselves, while the land falls into ruin around them. They are made shortsighted by their own greed. Eiya! So be it. Those of us in the Lesser Houses are ready-poised-to make a change, whether the Greater Houses will, or no. As are you. Listen, young man, I expect the day comes quickly when you are able to buy yourself free." With his chin he gestured toward the girls. "If you've a mind to, I would offer you a position as a junior trader in my house, for it seems, alas, that I may have an opening. You've a good head, a clear mind, and a cool heart. Consider it."

Kesh met his gaze, respect for respect. "If I meant to stay in Olossi, I would consider it, Master Calon. You're the only merchant here I respect enough to work for."

"I'll take that as thanks, then. Malia? A fair price."

She circled around once more before standing in silence for a time, calculating. She had never been a beauty; intelligence and ruthlessness had bought her freedom. Kesh smelled the lemon water in which she washed, a bracing and cooling scent even on such a hot day.

"A good investment," she said. "They are young enough to learn. They are healthy. They have clear voices. I think they can be trained as jaryas, if it so happens that they are also intelligent. If not, they can be trained to sing what others compose. Although they're not great beauties they have an unusual coloring that will attract notice. Three hundred leya apiece. Six hundred, altogether."

Kesh pressed teeth into his lower lip, so he wouldn't yelp with triumph and thus betray himself. Ten cheyt! Ten gold pieces was the best haul he had ever made. And he would need every vey.

"A fair price?" Calon asked.

"More than I expected," said Kesh.

Calon grinned. "Malia is never wrong. I'm of a mind to have them trained in my own house. That younger one, now… in a few years, if she has the talent, she might hope to marry one of Olossi's old merchants who has lost his first pair of wives from childbearing or the swamp fever. I can expect to sell her for ten times what I paid. So you're getting no bargain, Keshad. Do not think I am sentimental."

"I am satisfied it is a fair price. You'll have to train and feed them. Let us seal it."

Malia led the girls away. They did not look back as they vanished through the inner door into their new life.

MASTER FEDEN LIVED in the inner city, but his clearinghouse, like those of the other sixteen Greater Houses, stood in the outer city along Stone Field, the rectangular plaza at the heart of Merchants' Walk. Paving stones rumbled beneath the wheels of Tebedir's cart, an oddly comforting sound after months squeaking along packed-earth roads. With afternoon settling over the day, traffic in the plaza was thinning out. Shade Hour beckoned. Olossi was slipping into its daily drowse.