In Search of Spice (63 page)

“A fine example of Kalikut hospitality you all are! You do not even speak a language the ladies can understand. Begone! Back to your kennels and stop upsetting the ladies. Ladies, please step this way, I have a cool room inside and some soothing tea. Your servants may rest under the awning here. I am sure you are from the Frank ship that has just arrived, and you will be in need of information as much as anything. Please, come this way.” She bowed low and gracefully indicated with her arm.

The girls showed their acceptance by moving quickly through the hanging strings of beads in the doorway, Suzanne still glaring at the fat merchant.

“Welcome to Kalikut,” said the woman. “I am Piloo Mulca and I am honoured for your visit to my humble offices.”

“Thank you for rescuing us,” grinned Sara, liking her. “I am Asmara Starr, my friends Suzanne Delarosa and Sung Bai Ju.”

“Forgive me, ladies, if I find your names difficult. I shall try to pronounce them correctly. Now, would you prefer tea or sherbet?”

“What is sherbet? I have never heard of it!”

“Really? It is a sweet, cool drink made from fruits or flowers. I have one of my own family’s recipe, made from hibiscus flowers and scented with cardamom.”

“That sounds lovely. I will try it.”

“Tea for me please, jasmine if you have it,” asked Bai Ju.

“Of course.” Piloo clapped her hands and spoke in another language. Almost immediately a young girl came through another bead curtain bearing a tray with drinks on it, her head bowed and making sure it was lower than anybody else’s. Piloo gracefully took the drinks and distributed them, acknowledging the murmurs of appreciation. Sara studied her curiously. She was a striking woman, with brown skin, but much paler than either Taufik or the Pahippian girls. Her hair was black and straight, without the wave. A long straight nose over a generous mouth and warm black eyes. She smiled as she returned the appraisal.

“I have not seen people like you before. Yellow hair! That is something I have not learnt about, though we have red hair here, if not as bright as yours, Asmara. You are even paler than the Havantine people. Have you journeyed far?”

“We are from Harrhein, which is about six weeks to the North West. We sailed up the island chain and then along the coast of Hind. We have met many peoples and seen many sights on the way, but Kalikut is by far the largest city we have seen.”

“Indeed? Yet it is a young city, only a few hundred years old. It was governed by the Saamoothiri for the Eradis after their conquest, and about a hundred years ago they effectively became their own state. It is the wealth of the spice trade which drives the growth and the power of the Saamoothiri.” At these innocent words, something clicked in Sara’s brain. She had understood the importance of trade, but a new vista now opened up in her mind and she fell silent as she tried to put together a plan on driving the trade to Harrhein.

“We met a Mappila, this morning, one Mohammed Ashrafin.” Suzanne took up the conversation, leading it to where she was interested.

“Yes, I saw him go aboard and later leave with some gentlemen.”

“He didn’t seem to be happy talking to ladies?”

“No, he isn’t.” She laughed merrily. “The Mappila built the trade with the people of the dhows, the Abbasids, the Sufi and the Umayyads. They have taken their religion, which is very strict. They hide their women away in the zuenna, only allowing them out covered in clothes and veils so you cannot see them. Can you imagine what a dreadful life that must be?”

“What’s a zuenna?” Suzanne asked, her eyes wide and horrified. “Some sort of brothel?”

“Oh, no, it is just a building where they keep their wives and daughters, with the servants all castrated.”

“Did you say wives? You mean they take more than one wife?”

“Oh yes, I think they take four, and as many concubines as they can afford. It is the same with all the mussulmen.”

“But that is just ridiculous,” exclaimed Suzanne, annoyed. “One man cannot possibly satisfy four women, let alone more. It would be much more sensible the other way around.”

Piloo’s laughter pealed around the room. “Oh, I like you! But you must be careful what you say, as many men would be very upset to hear that. Let us keep that conversation amongst us girls. I have to say, that I would be very happy if you decided to trade with us rather than the Mappila, but there are very many of them.”

“And who are you, Piloo?” Sara came back into the conversation. “What can you offer us?”

“Ah, Asmara, so direct. I will answer your questions frankly and clearly, with a warning. Nobody else will, and they will not appreciate your directness. In Hind you must go round the subject several times, hint and suggest, never state.”

”Just like diplomacy,” mused Sara.

“Exactly. I am Parsi, and only recently have I arrived in Kalikut, maybe five years ago. My people are from far to the North West, on the shore of a inland sea. We are Zoroastrians, we believe that God is present wherever there is fire. Many of my people have come to Hind and other countries, driven from our homes by the Umayyads. We are traders and merchants and thrive here far from home. In Kalikut my family has many operations. We are money lenders, of course, which is the branch that I manage. We also own a weaving factory, where we make cotton cloth, and we have a small trade in spices.”

“I would like to see your cloth,” said Suzanne, looking hard at Piloo’s dress. “Is this your own cloth? The weave is very tight.”

“Yes, we are proud of this. The count is 500 for this grade.” She saw the blank expressions and explained. “There are 500 threads in each angula of cloth, an angula is a measurement like this,” she indicated a small square with her fingers.” It is hard to get 500 threads into an angula, this is very fine cloth. Also the dye is special, see how the colour is right into the thread.”

“I am afraid we would need to show this to our captain - he is the trader rather than us.”

“Well, you girls should learn. I won’t have you being cheated, not if I am going to be your agent in Kalikut.”

“Our agent?” Sara raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, you will need an agent to negotiate the best prices for you and to make sure the quality is high. A good agent will make you very wealthy, and a good client, representing a far country like yourselves, can make agents very wealthy as well. Together we can make much more money. And I am the only lady merchant with the power and ability to help you. I think I can be more beneficial than somebody who considers women to be inferior to his donkey.”

Suzanne nodded emphatically at this, happy to be convinced, but still asked, “What’s a donkey?”

“Oh,” said Piloo in surprise. “You don’t know them? They are like small horses, very slow but very strong, can carry lots of things. A Mussulman walks first, followed by his donkey with his goods on its back, followed by his wives.”

“Would an agent be able to help us with information?” Sara asked with care, “even if we were not here, but by sending messages?”

“Of course. Information is the lifeblood of trade. How can we trade without knowledge?”

“Piloo, we learnt Belada because we were told it was the language of trade here in Hind. But I have heard nobody speak it, except to us. Have we learnt the wrong language?” All three girls concentrated on the answer to this question. Communication and misunderstandings were a pain.

Piloo looked sadly at them. “The world is not meant for travellers. Belada is a poor language, and it serves for sailors and traders. It is useful as it is spoken from Havant to Sung. But nobody uses it as their everyday language. My own language is Parsi, which is a beautiful tongue much spoken in the courts of Hind. It is used by scholars and poets. The language of much of the coast is Konkani, but here the people speak Malayalam. Inland, the next kingdom speaks Kannada, while to the south they speak Tamil. To the north they speak Marathi, Gujarati and Hindi. We Parsis are required to speak the language of the city where we live, so I speak Malayalam, Parsi and Belada. I can get by in Konkani, Kannada and Tamil, but I am not very good with languages. Most of our traders speak about ten languages.”

The girls digested this is silence. Bai Ju spoke emphatically, but it was in Sung, and judging by the way the words spat out, not polite. It was clear nobody was required to answer as she lapsed into a morose silence. Sara knew how she felt. Even with sawblade, learning languages hurt the head and it was easy to mix them up.

Piloo regarded the girls keenly, and recognised their despondency. “I have a sister. I love her very much, but it is very sad. Her husband was killed by bandits last year as he travelled to Kochin. She had no children, and now cannot find a husband that she will accept. She will not be a second wife. She is very good at languages, which is her skill. Employ her as your secretary. She will travel with you, learn your language and be your translator while you are in Hind.”

Suzanne thought this a good idea, but left it to Sara to reply. Sara considered for a while. Yes, it was a good idea, but it would also give Piloo’s people a big insight and advantage in trading with them. Surely it was too obvious a place for a spy?

Bai Ju broke the contemplative silence as Piloo waited for a reaction. “I not understand. So sorry, not good in Belada. What means employ?”

“She gets paid to travel with us and translate,” explained Sara, thinking that she wasn’t paying Bai Ju.

“Paid? Ah, you mean with money. I not understand how you trust person who work for money.” Bai Ju’s eyes were wide and innocent, which instantly made Suzanne think that she was fishing.

Piloo was completely flummoxed, and for the first time was at a loss as to what to say. “Everybody works for money,” she said finally, rather lamely. “Don’t they?” Her words petered out beneath the stare of all three girls.

“Is that so?” Bai Ju said, who promptly turned to Sara. “How much you pay me? When you pay me?”

“Pay you?” Sara grinned. “I thought you just wanted some food and the chance to kill a few people.”

Bai Ju dimpled prettily. “Is true.” She started to say more, but stopped herself, thinking that Sara wouldn’t find it funny if she said Pat was a pretty good payment. She didn’t think Sara knew that she knew about their previous relationship.

“However,” Sara continued, coming to a decision. “I think that is an excellent idea Piloo and I would be happy to talk to your sister. When can I meet her?”

Sara went to the court with Mimi Mulca, Captain Larroche and Suzanne, plus her usual guard who stayed outside. They entered with Sung Bai Ju and Sara presented her credentials, laboriously created that morning and translated into Sanskrit, the written court language, by Mimi. An over-dressed court flunky took the papers without a word, but an astonished stare at Suzanne, and indicated for them to wait in a lobby.

They waited a long time.

Finally, another flunky appeared, wearing even more ornate clothing, bowed deeply and invited them to a banquet for that evening. Trade discussions could take place tomorrow, in the cool of the afternoon.

Sara accepted the invitation through Mimi, whose liquid black eyes sparkled as she explained the dress they must wear on the way back to the ship. Suzanne digested this slowly, and disagreed. The girls examined the silk uniforms created for them by the Sung and Mimi declared them perfect.

A procession of palanquins wound its way slowly up the hill to the palace, each one carried by four surprisingly small men. Sara fretted inside hers, while Suzanne luxuriated in her separate palanquin, appreciating the muscles of carriers. Captain Larroche had refused one, as Sara wished. Mimi was surprisingly firm on the subject, insisting she had to be carried to generate respect.

An honour guard of Spakka led the way, commanded by Janis resplendent in armour. Half naked Kai Viti brought up the rear under Maciu’s command, while Pat’s Scouts flanked each palanquin and the walkers, Captain Larroche, Brian, Taufik and Mimi.

At the gates, the guards were required to wait by the palanquins, but each attendee was permitted a female attendant, so Bai Ju and the Pahippians attended. A flunky led them to a small room where they were asked to wait. After a few minutes, a protocol officer entered and explained to Mimi the correct procedure for greeting the Saamoothiri. Listening to Mimi’s translation, Sara shook her head, pointing out that she was a Crown Princess with her own protocol requirements. She instructed Suzanne to handle the negotiation, looked down her nose disdainfully at the protocol officer and went to discuss trade with Captain Larroche.

Suzanne relished the barter, and before long Mimi too entered the spirit of negotiation which took a good half an hour before agreement. The protocol officer left with a smile on his face, shaking his head at the idea of animals in palaces, while Suzanne regretted his firmness on the matter of elephants. She was determined to get Sara on one. She walked over to Bai Ju and whispered in her ear. She nodded and spoke quietly to Hinatea. Sara glared, her frown deepening as Suzanne gave her instructions.

The protocol official returned to smile at Suzanne, who stood, nodding at the others. Bai Ju and Hinatea strode to the door, following the protocol official. With a shrug, Sara followed them, Captain Larroche and Brian just behind her followed by Suzanne and the remaining Pahippian girls. They strode down a marble corridor lined with strange statues of local gods, to empty into an antechamber where Sara was surprised to see Graves standing in full Royal Pathfinder uniform, bugle in hand. He saluted her smartly while Suzanne glowed at her own cleverness. The protocol official met Suzanne’s eyes, before opening the door a crack and checking something on the other side. He hesitated a moment, before hissing a guttural instruction.