“Calm,” Beorn said under his breath. “We need what they have.”
Finally a woman emerged from the entrance and stood at the top of the steps, bowing from the waist in the eastern manner. She was short and middle-aged, with close-cropped sandy hair and an intelligent cast to her eyes. Her tailored blue clothing was well made and expensive, and her raj hada proclaimed her an artificer as well as a senior merchant of House Loua Louna.
“High Lord,” she said, “my apologies for keeping you waiting. I am Touana Mosas. Please follow me. Your bladesingers may come, but I’m afraid the rest of your retinue will have to wait outside.”
Miro waited as Beorn spoke to the men, issuing instructions. Beorn then nodded and fell in behind Miro as Touana led the group through the market house. Passing several closed doors, Miro heard strange buzzing sounds and a scraping similar to the effect a saw makes on wood. Miro wondered what was happening inside, but returned his thoughts to the task ahead.
Touana gestured for them to follow her into a large wood-paneled chamber. The bladesingers ranged the walls, radiating comforting strength, as Miro and Beorn took a seat at a long table. Miro wondered when the Louan high lord would be joining them as Touana seated herself, clasping her hands on the table in front of her.
“Now, High Lord, what can I help you with?”
Miro struggled to stay calm. “Where is High Lord Ramon?”
Touana gave an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid he’s busy.”
“Busy?” Miro growled. “With what?”
“Not with what, High Lord—with whom. He is with the emperor and was unable to make this meeting. My apologies, but—well . . . he is the emperor, and with the Chorum in five days there is much to discuss. I am sorry for any offense, and please trust I am fully authorized to negotiate on behalf of my house. Now, what can I do for you?”
“You know what we need,” Miro said. “Prismatic orbs. Mortars. Dirigibles. The tools of war. The enemy is coming.”
“Yes, I do understand, High Lord. As I’m sure you can imagine, this new threat from the west has sown the seeds of fear among the houses. We can only produce so much, and prices have come up accordingly. How much are you looking to spend?”
“Spend?” Miro said. He caught a warning look from Beorn. “We’re asking for your help, and you’re worried about gilden?”
“High Lord, I don’t mean to patronize, but let me give you a lesson in basic economics,” Touana said. “Even in times of war—in fact, especially in times of war—the rules of finance must hold sway. Every high lord believes his land is at risk. The only fair way to allocate our resources is by the market forces of supply and demand, and their effect on prices. Tell me what you can spend, and I will do my best to ensure your order is fulfilled.”
Beorn laid a cautioning hand on Miro’s shoulder. “We’ve been busy fighting a war, a war that freed your house, among others, from the primate’s evil. Since discovering this new threat, we’ve been pouring gilden into bolstering Altura’s defenses, which unfortunately aren’t as strong as the other houses’, and Altura lies directly in our enemy’s path.”
“You say,” Touana said, shocking Miro with her bluntness as she met his gaze. “Yet by your own admission, High Lord, this enemy’s eventual goal is the relic housed inside the Sentinel, and they come by ship. Who is to say they won’t bypass Altura altogether and make landfall at some other part of the Empire?”
Miro had to acknowledge she had a point, even as seething rage burned within him. “Yes, I’ll admit there is no way of knowing where they’ll make landfall, but it’s logical that it will either be the free cities, Castlemere and Schalberg, or Seranthia. Last year we found a new continent across the Great Western Ocean, only to see it fall. Trust me, our enemy won’t stop there. The entire reason for the assault on the new lands to the west was to form an army and to gather the ships to carry it here. The closest ports are the two free cities, and Castlemere borders Altura itself. I can understand the desire to strengthen Seranthia, and I applaud it, but if they gain a foothold in Altura, their forces will grow in power to the point where the rest of the Empire will never be able to hold them off.”
“It’s a matter of fairness, High Lord. If Grigori Orlov of Vezna wants to defend his house, and can pay, it is not for us to turn him down. The gilden he provides goes to our merchants, who efficiently allocate orders to our workshops, who pay their workers, who turn up to work to earn their pay. Without gilden, the whole system falls apart, and I’m sorry, but I cannot give you what you want without payment.”
Miro clenched his fists, and Beorn shot him a cautioning look.