The Mad Ship. Робин Хобб

woman’s surprise. ‘I will see Davad now. Would you bring coffee and simple cakes from the kitchen, please? Nothing elaborate. I do not wish to encourage him to linger.’

      ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Rache sketched a curtsey and left silently.

      Ronica’s skirts whispered as she walked down the hall to the sitting room. The pearls were cool against her skin. Strange how a change of garments and a bit of care for her appearance made her feel so different. Her deep mourning for Ephron was still there, as was her anger for all that had befallen her with his death. All winter she had done her best to cope with the blows as they fell. It had been staggering to find that her trust in her son-in-law had been misplaced. Kyle’s greed had driven away Althea and his need for ruthless control had all but paralysed Keffria. The discovery that his daughter Malta seemed set on growing up to be just like him had been unnerving. A few months back, Keffria had promised to take a hand with Malta and change her. Ronica snorted softly to herself. So far, the only changes were that Malta was becoming more deceptive daily.

      At the entrance to the sitting room she paused, and put such thoughts out of her head. By an act of will she smoothed her brow and put a pleasant expression on her face. She straightened her back and shoulders, then opened the door and swept into the room with a ‘Good morning, Davad. Such a surprise to have you call on us like this.’

      His back was to her. He had taken a book from the shelf and was standing by the window to peruse it. With his wide rounded back encased tautly in a dark blue jacket, he reminded Ronica of a beetle. He closed the book and spoke as he turned. ‘Not surprising. Rude. Even as socially inept a blunderer as I know that I should have asked if you had time to see me. But I knew you would say no, and I had to…Ronica! You look amazing!’

      His eyes swept up and down her, quite familiarly, bringing an unexpected blush to her face. A returning smile broke out on his ruddy round face.

      ‘I had become accustomed to seeing you in such dreary clothes, I had forgotten how you truly looked. I remember that dress. It is quite old, isn’t it? Didn’t you wear it to one of the parties you gave to announce Keffria’s wedding to Kyle? It takes years off your face. You must be quite proud to be able to squeeze yourself into it still.’

      Ronica shook her head at the old family friend. ‘Davad Restart. Only you can so completely ruin so many compliments in one brief speech.’ He stared at her, completely flummoxed. As was often the case, he was completely unaware of how tactless he was. She moved to a divan and seated herself. ‘Come and join me,’ she invited him. ‘I’ve asked Rache to bring coffee and cakes, but I warn you, I have only a brief moment or two to spare. We are receiving Reyn Khuprus this afternoon. He is coming to call on Malta for the first time, and I still have a great deal of preparation.’

      ‘I know,’ he admitted easily. ‘Bingtown gossip has been full of it. It’s a bit unusual, isn’t it, to allow a man to court her before she’s even been presented as a woman? Not that she doesn’t think she’s ready, I’m sure. After her escapade last winter at the ball…well. I don’t blame you for trying to marry her off quickly. The sooner that girl has a man to settle her down, the safer all of Bingtown will be.’ He paused and cleared his throat. For the first time, he looked a bit uncomfortable. ‘Actually, Ronica, that is why I’m here. To beg a very great favour from you, I’m afraid.’

      ‘You wish to ask a favour of me, and somehow it’s connected to Reyn’s visit?’ Ronica was both puzzled and uneasy.

      ‘Yes. It’s simple. Invite me, too. Please.’

      She managed not to gape at him. She was saved from having to reply immediately by Rache’s entry into the room with the coffee tray. Ronica dismissed her almost immediately; there was no sense in forcing Rache to serve coffee to a man that she hated. The small business of pouring coffee gave Ronica some time in which to think. Davad broke into her thoughts before she could begin her graciously worded refusal.

      ‘I know it isn’t proper, but I’ve thought of a way around that.’

      Ronica decided to be blunt. ‘Davad, I don’t want to find a way around impropriety. The Khuprus family is socially powerful. I cannot afford to give anyone in Bingtown offence these days, let alone the son of such a family. You have not said why you wish to be here when we receive him. Traditionally, only the family of the girl is present when the young man first comes calling. To make him more at ease, you know.’

      ‘I know, I know. But seeing as how Ephron is dead and Malta’s father is at sea, I thought you could present me as an old friend who was standing in…a sort of protector in the absence of your family men…’

      Davad’s voice trailed off at the look on Ronica’s face. She spoke in a low, controlled voice. ‘Davad. You well know that I have never required a man to be my protector. When the girls were small and Ephron was often at sea, I never asked his friends to settle business transactions for him, or deal with unpleasant realities in his absence. I coped. All Bingtown knows that. It is who I am. Now that I am truly alone, shall I quaver and faint and hide myself behind you? I think not. Reyn Khuprus comes today to meet the family of the girl he wishes to wed. He shall meet us as we truly are.’

      As Ronica paused to draw breath after this onslaught, Davad spoke hastily. ‘It’s for me. For my benefit, I mean. I will be honest with you. There is no benefit to you, I admit that freely, and it might even cause you some embarrassment for me to be here. Sa knows, several families in Bingtown no longer receive me. I am well aware that I am a social embarrassment. At first, it was because I was inept. Well, I have never been good at the social things. Dorill was. She always took care of those things. After she died, many folk in Bingtown still treated me kindly, in memory of her, I think. But year after year, the number of Traders who hailed me as friend dwindled. I suppose I give offence without intention. Until now, of all the Bingtown Traders, you are the only one I dare call “friend”.’

      He paused and sighed heavily. ‘I have no one else to turn to in my isolation. I know I must rebuild my alliances. If I could form some trade connections with the Rain Wild Traders, I could do so. I know that many in Bingtown do not approve of my politics. They say I grovel to the New Traders, that my dabbling in slavery is a disgrace, that I have betrayed the Bingtown Traders by negotiating for the New Traders. But you know that I only do so to survive. What else is there for me? Look at me! I have no one, nothing but my own wits to depend on. No wife to comfort me, no children to inherit my holdings. All I am trying to do is maintain enough property and income to keep me comfortable through my old age. After that, it all ends.’ He paused dramatically and then finished in a dwindling voice, ‘My line ends with me.’

      Ronica had closed her eyes halfway through this recitation. When Davad sighed yet again, she opened them. ‘Davad,’ she said in a warning voice. ‘Shame on you, trying such tricks on me. I refuse to pity you, any more than I pity myself. The pits we are in, we have dug ourselves. You know the roots of your problems; you just listed them yourself. If you want to regain the respect of the Bingtown Traders, leave off politicking for the New Traders. Stop “dabbling” in the selling of humans. Go back to being who you were and your friends will return. Not quickly, for you have trodden firmly on too many toes. But eventually. You are Old Trader. As soon as you recall that to yourself, our compatriots will recall it as well.’

      ‘And in the meantime, I should genteelly starve?’ Davad blustered. As if to fend off such a dire fate, he took a large bite of the spice cake in his hand.

      ‘You will not starve,’ Ronica pointed out implacably. ‘As you have said, you have only yourself to support. You could live off your own holdings if you chose to apply yourself, even if you never negotiated another trade in your life. I venture to say that if you reduced your servants, you could supply most of your own wants from a kitchen garden, some chickens and a few cattle. You could revert to simplicity, as Keffria and I have been forced to do. As for your being alone in the world, well, as I recall, you have a grandniece. Approach her, if you want an heir. It might mend a great deal with that branch of your family.’

      ‘Oh, she hates me.’ Davad brushed the idea away with the cake crumbs that had fallen into his lap. ‘Some chance remark I made to her husband when he was