Chapter 6
The next morning, the sun rose to reveal a second clan—in the middle of the midnight revelry so common among the uncouth merchants—dead around their tables, some even with food and drink still clutched in their stiff, cold hands.
Once again, Melanie stood at her bedroom window, asked, "Aslan, do you walk tonight?" and heard him reply, "I walk."
That night, a third clan was driven out of town by unseen visions. Village gossip reported hearing strange wailings coming from the clan about vengeful farmers plowing them like weeds, and weavers unraveling the tents, to destroy them.
Melanie received these reports from various servants. She smiled each time. Three gone, four to go, she thought. At this rate, we could reopen the marketplace by next week!
True to pattern, over the next two days, as Melanie sought Aslan in the night, two clans departed, badly frightened. The second night, a terrible cry went up among the tribe, something nearly unintelligible about a "great animal" that terrified them all. Melanie stuck the bell next to her throne. A servant appeared.
"Tell Pareshin we may be able to reopen the market by the weekend."
The servant grinned. He anticipated a celebratory free day in the marketplace to satisfy his desires. But . . . he worried that there would be no merchants left once the marketplace reopened.
The messenger forgot his worries as he entered the tent where Captain Pareshin and his guards slept between rotations. The captain looked exhausted. The servant was glad to give him good news. "Her Ladyship says that we may be able to reopen the marketplace by the weekend."
Captain Pareshin nodded. Somehow, this young foreigner had managed to accomplish in her first week what the Lords of Nast had spent generations attempting.
"It is good," he replied heavily. "My men are wasted, even with the rotations. There are too many alleys and not enough men. But something seems to happen every night. We will wait for the end of the week, in two days."
The servant left the tent, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see one solder relieve another. Neither appeared very alert. Poor souls! The way the rotation had to be set, each soldier only had a few hours to sleep before he needed to relieve a compatriot, if he had slept at all. The servant was glad their suffering would end soon.
That night . . . nothing happened. Two merchant clans still remained.
Melanie wondered at this, but did not fret over it. She considered herself too busy with plans of reforming Nast. Wracking her brain for memories of New Telmar (ages ago, it felt like!) and how the society and economy worked there, and sought to fashion a system similar to that.
Her friend and mentor Leif proved especially instrumental in these plans. The good woman had the ability to ask questions about New Telmar in just such a way as to bring the memories clearly and swiftly to Melanie's mind. Such was her concentration on these plans and memories that, for the first time in a week, Melanie forgot to ask Aslan if he would walk. Still, she waited with growing expectation for him to act.
But no dramatic rousting occurred. The next day came and went but the two groups remained, laughing and carousing as if they had outwitted the curses and spirits that had driven away the others.
Finally, at the end of the last day of the week, Captain Pareshin presented himself before Melanie with a report of the doings of the villagers. "It seems one of my men may have overheard your messenger, and the message he misheard has passed from ear to ear through the entire city. Consequently, many people believe the markets will be open tomorrow morning."
Melanie sighed. "But the merchants are still there! I cannot open the markets until they are gone, and yet if I do not, it will appear that I have broken a promise, which I meant as merely a conditional statement from the first!" The girl rested her chin on her palm.
"The difficulties of doing the right thing without appearing to do something wrong," the captain sympathized understandingly. "Your Ladyship, if you will permit me, I can execute a plan that will rid us of the merchants in a single night. I'll not tell you many details, so in the unlikely event of trouble, you will not be implicated. In light of this, would you be willing to grant me permission?"
Melanie shook her head. "Captain, I know this . . . spirit that is haunting the merchants. I have my own instructions, and those are to wait until this spirit has finished its work."
"Meanwhile the whole town is readying to begin the market tomorrow at sunrise! Perhaps this spirit of yours would not object to some . . . small assistance."
Melanie considered the logic of this request. Aslan was so kind, so loving and so noble, she figured, why wouldn't he allow them to help him? Could that be the reason he tarried? She gazed at her captain seriously. "I want no bloodshed," she said.
"I will set parameters and instruct my men so to avoid it completely."
Melanie wrestled over it in her mind for a long time before conceding, "You have my permission."
Captain Pareshin bowed, "Thank you, Milady." He left to prepare a special contingent for a raid on the merchants' camp that night.