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“Four hundred,” the tusked man says, pulling me back to the auction yard.
He wears a Greywood badge. I know the territory by its wool caravans and the men who collect its debts. He catches me looking and spreads his knees.
“Household needs a firm hand,” he says. “Mine has one.”
“Does it need a wife who settles disputes?” I ask.
“It needs a wife who does as she’s told.”
The auctioneer chuckles. I don’t.
“Five hundred.” The merchant lifts a jeweled hand.
A man with grey-green bark for skin steps out from behind a taller buyer. Leaves lie flat against his head. He looks at the auctioneer’s card, then at me.
“Five hundred and fifty. For Lord Daurek of the Ilden.”
The auctioneer checks the clerk beside him.
“Registered proxy,” the clerk confirms. “Lord Daurek is the intended spouse.”
The Ilden is a forest east of Tesseny. Its road carries half the grain that reaches our market. Travelers say the trees move after dark, and their lord can make them move in daylight if someone annoys him.
I look for him anyway.
“The lord isn’t here?”
“I’m bidding on his behalf,” the grey-green man says. “My name is Neimura.”
“Does he want a wife who settles disputes?”
“He would benefit from one.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
The tusked man snorts. “You’ll earn your money with her.”
Neimura keeps his attention on me.
“Yes,” he says. “He wants a wife capable of speaking for herself.”
I want to believe him. I make myself look at the other bidders before I do anything foolish with that feeling.
“Six hundred,” says the Greywood man.
“Six hundred and fifty,” says the merchant.
That would clear the debt. Barely, with the fees, but it would clear it.
The merchant turns one hand palm-up toward me. “My senior wife handles the household. You’d assist her.”
Senior wife. I’d leave Asha’s arguments behind and acquire an entire family of strangers’ arguments.
“Seven hundred,” Neimura says.
The merchant lowers his hand. The Greywood man spits beside his boot.
The auctioneer waits, then turns to me.
