Free The Braided World by Kay Kenyon Page A

doubt.
    “We depend on his support right now, and thank God we're getting it. But he has to pick his way cautiously among factions whose customs tell them people like us are despicable. When I have his confidence, I will leave this pavilion, with his blessing. Not without it. That is my plan. It's proceeding faster than you may imagine, something you can't know, since you're seldom here.”
    Bailey drew herself tall. She wasn't accustomed to back talk from a twenty-four-year-old, captain or not. “Well, then.” She took off her hat and patted her hair. “In that case, we'd better not keep his majesty waiting.”
    The plaza was still full of mud, but hoda continued their labor of shoveling and bearing out pallets of muck. The kingsloshed through the mud undeterred, ruining a fine pair of brocaded boots. The sun had cooked up the mud into a stew of rotting fish and jungle muck, creating a smell strong enough to singe nose hairs.
    Out in the open square Bailey's hat drew a stare from Shim.
Skin cancer
, Bailey wanted to say, not that she knew how to say it in Dassa.
Wrinkles.
    From tiers of porches around the plaza, Dassa gathered to watch the king's retinue, all two dozen of them, including guards, the noble viven, the chancellors, and Anton, Nick, and herself. Zhen wasn't invited, and would have hated wasting the time, anyway. She was preoccupied, setting up a huge amount of equipment in the crew huts.
    King Vidori was striking in his black and gray silk tunic and leggings. He had been most cordial to Bailey, complimenting her on her head-covering-with-brim. He spoke slowly, out of consideration for the language difficulties. Then he strolled farther into the plaza, nodding to viven on the high porches and conversing with Shim. The retinue walked behind, stopping when he stopped, proceeding at his whim.
    She had to admit that the man was a formidable presence. Such people needed careful handling, as Anton was attempting to provide, of course. But she'd met heads of state and singers who considered themselves divas, and she knew how to accord respect in public and then do exactly as she wished in private. It required a delicate mixture of manners and villainy, something every starship captain certainly needed to master.
    The retinue had stopped.
    Two new people were standing in the center of the plaza. One woman, dressed in palace finery, stood next to another woman with hair flowing down her back—the first time Bailey had seen a Dassa woman's hair unbound. The sun lit copper threads in her hair, causing her shoulders and back to shimmer. As Bailey watched them, she saw that thelong-haired woman was very young, a teenager. A terrified one.
    An old man—a member of the judipon by his simple attire—joined the two, carrying a wire basket.
    Vidori's procession now fanned out on either side of him, so that the group of three were in clear view of Bailey.
    “Any clue?” Bailey asked Anton.
    He shook his head.
    The judipon official lifted the basket high and pulled it down over the girl's head. For a moment he obscured Bailey's view of the girl. When he stepped away, an assemblage in front of the basket had been inserted deep into the girl's mouth.
    Bailey hoped that she wasn't going to witness what it seemed clear that she was.
    Anton strode up to Shim, pulling her sleeve, and Bailey followed him. “Don't interfere,” Bailey hissed at him.
    Shim moved back from the king's side and spoke to Anton, saying something.
    Bailey heard him say, “… do something.”
    In front, the king had moved forward to place something in the hands of the noblewoman, her face as placid as fired pottery. The woman then helped the girl to kneel. Something in the way she did so led Bailey to believe that she wished to be gentle with her.
    Shim whispered to Anton, “The king pays the mother for her loss.” She made a small smile. “It is a generous sum.”
    Anton made to push past Shim to reach Vidori, but Bailey surprised herself with how