Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [10]
Another chance gone. He wondered when Orlith would come back or if he even would.
Even as he stood up, one of his Squires appeared in the garden door.
“Pardon, Sir King—”
“Yes?”
“Master-trader Geraint Chalvers to see you—you had asked him for a quarterly report.”
“Yes, of course.” Master-trader Chalvers, the first merchant appointed to his Council, bowed low as Kieri came into the room. He had a cluster of wood and leather tubes under his arm.
“Sir King, I have the reports you asked for.”
“Thank you, Master-trader Chalvers. Perhaps you would like some sib. I was just about to have another cup.”
“Er … thank you, Sir King.” Chalvers bowed again.
“We should go to a larger room,” Kieri said, looking at the size of the rolls Chalvers had brought. “Are those maps?”
“Yes, sire. These were made for trade.”
“Then we need the big table.” Kieri led Chalvers to the smaller dining room.
Chalvers spread the maps out on the table. “You asked what impeded trade here. I know you’ve lived most of your life in Tsaia and the south—you’re used to a trade network that runs at least from Fin Panir to the Immerhoft Sea. Here our largest problem is that we’re at the far end of anything … we don’t have an easy pass across the Dwarfmounts, we don’t have a really good river port, and for overland transport our roads are inferior to many in Tsaia and the Guild League roads of the south.”
“Have you yourself traveled to Aarenis?”
“Oh, yes, Sir King. When I was young, my father bade me follow the trail of Lyonyan goods all the way to the last buyer. I went as far east as the Immervale and as far south as Cha and Sibili, where I found them making tiles more cheaply than we could. I even came back with the secret of a blue glaze we did not have then. I was gone almost three years.”
“Well, then, let’s see what you’re showing me.” Kieri bent over the first map.
“Lyonya has many trails but only two real roads—” Chalvers pointed. “—along the foothills, where every spring the snowmelt and rain flood across the road and no one much cares to fix it. Wagons make it only as far as Halveric Steading, and some years not that far. There was a road, or so the tales run, all the way across Prealíth once, right through the Ladysforest, or what the Ladysforest is now.”
Kieri nodded, thinking of his own journey the other way, from Bannerlíth to Halveric Steading: forest tracks and trails, dry leaves underfoot and more falling from the trees as day by day it had grown colder. Had he gone through the Ladysforest? He must have, and yet he had never seen an elf. A dim memory came of someone tall and shadowy, asking him questions and then walking into a silvery mist.
Chalvers was waiting for his attention, he noticed, and nodded again. “Go ahead.”
“The other road is here, Sir King, along the Honnorgat. At thaw every spring, the river floods some stretches and makes it impassable for tendays at a time. That connects with an even less passable track in Prealíth but intersects one that cuts across here—” He pointed. “—from the river to Bannerlíth. Most of our traffic goes up to the river road, then into Tsaia at Harway. From Harway to Vérella, the Tsaian road is two wagons wide and passable in most weather. We do have wagon access here and here.” He pointed to the southwest corner and partway up—opposite Verrakai land, Kieri thought. “But that middle way was never satisfactory with both Verrakai and Konhalt jealous of traffic. Mud holes and brigandage. We traders think the Verrakai supported both.”
“So we don’t get as much trade coming in or out, and it’s hard for people to get their wares to a Tsaian or Finthan or southern market.” Kieri looked the map over again; this one did not have all the steadings marked on it, only the few towns and the trade routes.
“Yes, my lord. T’elves don’t mind; they don’t depend on trade, anyway, not our kind at least. And there are