Imprudence (The Custard Protocol #2)(79)

Anitra explained that the family leaders had gone as far as they felt necessary in helping Goldenrod and were reluctant to continue floating south. “They understand you are hunted but not why they should involve themselves further.”

Rue wondered if they had any idea why the Custard was being chased. Given Anitra’s reverential attitude to werecats, should Rue present Tasherit’s case? Would that work for or against them? But Anitra had insisted Tasherit not attend this meeting, so perhaps it was best not to petition for werelioness protection.

Rue decided not to mention cats. “I understand your position. I’m most grateful for such assistance as you have rendered thus far. I would beg your indulgence a little further on my journey.”

Anitra shook her head. “They are not ones for charity, Lady Prudence.”

Rue frowned. “Trade?”

Anitra said something, making a gesture with her arms. The men all sat up straighter, suddenly very interested.

Anitra said, “Do you have coffee? It is the custom upon opening a barter.”

Rue grimaced in disgust.

“Wine?” suggested Floote.

Rue narrowed her eyes. “Will port do?” She hated port, yet for some reason Cook had seen fit to stock a very great deal for the journey.

“Splendid.”

Rue leaned back out of the circle and gestured with one arm at Spoo. In classic Spoo fashion, she’d left her game to sit nearby in the guise of some vital task – whittling a wedge of cheese or what have you. “Run to Primrose, please, Spoo. Have her release two—”

“Four,” interrupted Floote.

“Four bottles of port from stores. Have the footman bring them up with some of those little serving glasses Cook likes so much. The footman, mind you, not Primrose herself.”

“Consider it done, Lady Captain.”

“Thank you, Spoo.”

“Lady Captain?”

“Yes, Spoo?”

“Please don’t say or do anything exciting until I get back?”

“I have a feeling nothing untoward will occur until the port arrives. Now hurry along.”

Spoo dashed below.

Ay leaned forward. Anitra translated for her. “You wish to open negotiations?”

“I do.”

“You need to know exactly what you’re asking for. Request more initially. Then back down. Saves face for everyone.” Floote seemed invested in helping Rue through this murky situation. It was the most sentences she’d yet heard him string together.

Rue could only be grateful.

They waited for the port.

It arrived, along with Spoo, the footman, and many small glasses. Ay seemed disappointed it wasn’t Primrose but cheered considerably when the port was passed around. More bottles were placed in the centre of the circle where anyone could reach them.

Everyone sipped gravely. Delighted smiles crossed the faces of the men.

To each their own, thought Rue. “I should like to continue our escort for the next week, into the deep desert, plus escort for the four decoy dirigibles going in opposite directions.”

“A large request. You take us away from our normal trade routes and hunting grounds, simply because you are being hunted yourself.”

“Those with the decoys may follow any path they wish, hunting or trade. It is only those who accompany me who are required to stick to a specific path.”

“That does lessen the inconvenience. What will you give to the decoys, and what to your own personal escort, all of whom undertake a certain amount of risk in your protection?”

Good question, thought Rue. What will I give? What do I have to trade that these men might want?

“I offer contacts with a new trade concern in Cairo. A lucrative tea import business that will need middlemen.”

“And why would a tradesman use Drifters with small balloon capacity over faster and more effective trains?”

“Fair point,” said Rue. She regarded Ay. How much is Primrose really worth?

Percy seemed to follow this line of thinking and elbowed Rue. “Don’t you dare trade my sister.”

“Well, what else do we have, Percy? Your books?”

“No! Fine, by all means, offer them Primrose, for you are not trading my library!” He paused, frowning. “How about aetheric current charts? I could copy those over.”

Rue thought that a pretty good idea; although the Drifters’ balloons were not designed for aetherosphere puffing, they could float short ways if they wished to. She made the offer.

The Drifters looked intrigued but doubtful.

Rue consulted Anitra and Floote. “I could have Cook make up all the scones our stores allow. And they can have the rest of the bally port. But really I can’t offer much more from our supplies. We’ve no idea when we might get supplies again. We will need to eat.”

“How much sugar do you have?” Floote asked.

Rue raised her eyebrows. “I’d have to ask Primrose, but quite a lot. I’ve a terrible sweet tooth.”

“Like your mother.”

“Be fair, she has a general tooth.”

“Offer them all you can spare.”

Anitra explained, “It’s a coveted delicacy in these parts.”

Rue took a breath and sacrificed her beloved lemon tarts on the altar of human safety. “A sugar loaf of this size” – she made the shape with her hands – “to each family group that remains to help.”