Jade War

CHAPTER 40 The Bosses

Dauk Losun sent Rohn Toro as an emissary to Blaise “the Bull” Kromner with a request for a meeting, to be held as soon as possible, between Dauk and the three most powerful Crew Bosses in the city of Port Massy. Rohn was instructed to make it clear that the Kekonese had had enough of the ongoing harassment in Southtrap and wished to sue for peace. To demonstrate his sincerity, Dauk was willing to meet at a time and place of Kromner’s choosing, bringing only three attendants with him to the parley, with no additional guarantee for his own safety.

When Rohn returned, he told the Dauks and Kaul Hilo that Kromner had agreed to secure the attendance of the other two Bosses for a meeting on high ground between all the parties on Jons Island the following Firstday at dawn. Driving across the Iron Eye Bridge in the early morning, Hilo inquired as to the reason for Kromner’s specific choice of time and place.

“Firstdawn is the holy hour for Truthbearers,” Dauk explained from the front passenger seat, glancing at Hilo and Tar in the rearview mirror. “That’s when they say the Seer ended the Seven Year Walk at the top of Mount Icana and the One Truth was revealed to him. No sin that’s committed on high ground at Firstdawn can be forgiven by God. It’s the safest time to meet.”

“Don’t they know we’re not a part of their church?” Tar scoffed.

“It’s not us the Bosses are concerned about,” Rohn Toro replied as he drove. “We’ll be unarmed and outnumbered to the point that even jade wouldn’t even the odds. They’re suspicious of each other. The Southside Crew is strongest, but the Baker Street and Wormingwood Crews put together would be larger than Kromner’s organization. They’ll all be on good behavior, though; the Espenians are more religious than you’d think. Anyone who sheds blood at Firstdawn would be turned on by all the others, not just in Port Massy, but all across the country and by the Bosses Table itself. And they’d lose all their paid influence with the police and the courts.”

“It’s like bringing in penitents,” Tar observed. “Funny, isn’t it? No matter where you are in the world, the one thing that keeps men from killing each other is a fear of what’ll happen after they’re dead.” He chuckled and looked to his Pillar, as if hoping for some affirming response, but Hilo remained silent, gazing out the window as they drove past the amusement park, aquarium, and pier-side attractions of Guildman’s Park—none of them open at this early hour—and then up a hill to Thorick Mansion, the historical pirate baron’s house turned social club that was widely known to have Crew connections, as evidenced now by the fact that it had been opened and made available to the Bosses at this unusual time.

Rohn parked some distance away from half a dozen large, hulking luxury cars—including, Hilo noticed, a Duchesse Priza of the same model year as his own. Several men in black hats and long coats stood by the doors, and Hilo Perceived many more inside and around the building, all of them no doubt well armed. Before they got out of the car, Hilo said to Tar in a low aside, “Remember, Dauk is in charge of this meeting. The Espenians don’t know who the two of us are, and it’s better to keep it that way, so keep your jade out of sight.”

He’d noticed his Pillarman feeling his bare fingers and wrists on the drive over. Tar had placed all his jade on a chain that was hanging around his neck under his clothes; not wearing it in its usual place was clearly agitating him. Green Bones often had small physical mannerisms—twisting the rings on their fingers, straightening their shirt cuffs, touching or tugging at their collar—subtle movements to draw attention to their green when interacting with other people. It was hard to notice and quell such unconscious habits. Hilo’s own jade was hidden under his uncomfortably buttoned-up shirt and tie. Even though they were going to meet with foreign gangsters that Hilo considered almost as low as Zapunyo, he didn’t like the feeling of dishonesty it gave him to be covering up his status and identity, as if he were wearing a mask. The ways things worked here, the prevailing culture of concealment… no wonder there was so much crime in this country.

They got out of the car and walked to the front of the mansion. The guards stopped them and patted them down for weapons. Tar looked affronted at this indignity, but when Hilo spread his arms and submitted without objection, his Pillarman did the same. The coats paid them only cursory attention, but they glared at Rohn Toro with hateful unease, putting hands on their guns and keeping some distance from him. Hilo noticed it, and it improved his estimation of both Rohn and Dauk. He didn’t think of Dauk as a real Pillar any more than the mayor of Janloon would consider the headman of Opia village to be an equal in rank, but it was a sign of the older man’s competence that he had the friendship and loyalty of a deputy who was so obviously feared.

One of the coats led them inside. Crystal chandeliers hung from the mansion’s ceiling and ornately carved furniture rested on rich rugs illuminated by the early morning light that filtered through leaded windows. The air had the musty smell common to wealthy, old buildings. They walked into a room with a heavy oak conference table in the center and oil paintings of famous Port Massy tycoons decorating the walls. On one side of the table sat five men and one woman. Half a dozen coats acting as bodyguards for their respective Bosses were positioned near the walls or doors, standing in a relaxed manner but with their hands resting on their hips or in their pockets in such a way that their pistols were visible, watching the new entrants but also each other. The Kekonese were the last to arrive. This had obviously been by design; the Crew Bosses were bringing in Dauk the way a council of kings would receive a foreign emissary. Hilo waited for Dauk Losun to sit down in one of the empty chairs at the table before taking the seat next to him.

Blaise “the Bull” Kromner had been born into a childhood of poverty, and though he was now well fed and vain, his enemies would be unwise to forget that he had worked his way up through the Port Massy underworld with absolute ruthlessness and cunning, eliminating many rivals along the way. True to his moniker, Kromner was a beefy man with a heavily fleshed face and a reddish complexion. His features were crude, as if a sculptor had formed them in a hurry, pressing in two shallow thumb dents for eyes and attaching a rough lump of clay for a nose. In contrast to his natural ugliness, Kromner was impeccably dressed. His tailored pinstripe suit and vest fit his broad frame perfectly. The mustache over his broad lips was trimmed and his thick brown hair was neatly combed. He wore a gold watch with a crystal face and a red silk tie. The Bull controlled the gambling and prostitution south of the Camres and a substantial amount of the drug trade. Only the cartels from Tomascio in West Spenda that held sway on narcotics elsewhere in the country competed with him. Kromner was the most famous Crew Boss in the country and liked to be photographed by the newspapers when he appeared at expensive clubs, attended the theater, and dined at the finest restaurants. He was well insulated by layers in his organization, and although his word was law in the Southside Crew, he left much of the day-to-day operations to his trusted foremen.

Kromner was seated in the center chair at the table; to his leftmost side was a short, stocky man known as Joren Gasson. “Jo Boy” ran the Baker Street Crew that controlled the more affluent northeast of Port Massy, primarily Jons Island, and he was dominant in horse racing and bookkeeping. Gasson was a round-faced man with a shrewd, squinty expression, and he was known for being stingy and private, maintaining a low profile and rarely appearing in public. He had the most policemen, politicians, and judges on his payroll, and so all the other Crews frequently went to him and paid him for his influence in society. The use of Thorick Mansion was on account of his connections.

On the right side of the table was a matronly woman with a white scarf around her throat and a cap that sat atop very curly hair. Anga Slatter looked like someone’s rich but shrewish aunt, but she was the de facto acting Boss of the Wormingwood Crew ever since her husband, Rickart “Sharp Ricky” Slatter had been sent to jail on charges of money laundering. It was said that she acted in Ricky’s stead in all things and communicated his decisions after visiting and consulting with him in prison. The Wormingwood Crew controlled the northwest of the city and its inner suburbs. All the other Bosses in the country had lost respect for Sharp Ricky for being so stupid as to get caught on minor charges, and for having no better system of management than to let his wife run the business. Accordingly, they paid Anga Slatter little heed.

Each of the Bosses had brought one of their foremen with them. Kromner’s foreman, Willy “Skinny” Reams, sat on his Boss’s left-hand side. In contrast to Kromner, he was lean and bland looking, clean shaven, in a charcoal-gray suit, holding his brimmed felt hat in his hands.

Kromner watched with arrogant curiosity as the Kekonese men entered. When everyone was seated, he swept his hand around the table as if in general introduction to everyone assembled. Then he spoke to his fellow Bosses. “You all know of the trouble I’ve been having in Southtrap with the Kekonese.” Kromner was naturally a fast, animated speaker, and his voice was higher than one would’ve expected for so large a man. “Now I’m aware this doesn’t affect any of the rest of you directly, so you’re likely asking yourselves why Bully Blaise has put you to the trouble of coming all the way out to Jons Island on a whip crack, at Firstdawn over Harvest’Eves holidays no less.” He paused as if waiting for someone to validate this assertion by asking the question out loud. When no one did, Kromner lifted a finger anyway and said, “This little dispute is about more than a few broken skulls in K-Town. It’s about the jade business. There’s big money to be accounted here, and that’s a matter concerning all of us Bosses.” Kromner turned toward the Kekonese and took a second to study the four men before picking out Dauk Losun. “Mr. Dauk here is who the Kekonese think of as their own boss. He’s asked to meet with us to work out an agreement.”

All eyes turned toward the oldest Kekonese man, who sat with his elbows on the table, hands lightly clasped and his back stiff, clearly ill at ease at being the center of attention. Dauk cleared his throat and spoke in Espenian with a slight accent. “For many years, the Kekonese community has had an understanding with the Bosses. We each mind our own businesses. No matter how long we’ve been here or even if we were born in Port Massy, we Kekonese are still seen as unwelcome strangers in this country. We stick to our own affairs. We want to be good citizens, respected members of Espenian society. At the same time, we hold strongly to our traditions, and we ask only that they not be interfered with by outsiders. So we don’t seek to interfere in anything that you do, and in exchange, we handle our own matters. This has applied particularly in the areas of gambling, protection money, and of course, jade.”

Jo Gasson said, in a reedy voice, “That’s not the case anymore, is it? You’ve opened up your gambling halls to the regular people, who’re putting down money on cockfighting or dueling instead of racing or slots. That competes with Boss Kromner’s businesses directly.”

“It’s true, we’ve opened the grudge hall to outsiders on certain days of the week,” Dauk said. “But it’s by invitation only. It’s only natural that our children would make Espenian friends and marry into Espenian families, and it’s no longer fair to say those who aren’t a hundred percent Kekonese shouldn’t be allowed to be part of our community gatherings. On those days when we open up the hall, we have cockfighting and gambling only, no duels. The fee we charge goes toward maintaining our community center and helping those in our neighborhood who need help. We’re not making any effort to draw people away from your establishments.”

“That’s not the main issue here,” Kromner said with obvious impatience. “I’m a generous man, and I’m willing to let go of small money if all you kecks were up to was a little gambling. But your not-so-secret halls aren’t just cheap entertainment; they’re where you people go to show off your jade and practice your fancy moves. You’re running the only jade markets in town, and that’s not right. The jade business is too big for you to have to yourselves.”

A flush of anger came into Dauk’s face, but he spoke calmly. “Jade is our cultural heritage. Our families brought it with them to this country and we keep it within our community. We don’t sell it for profit. And now, with the government ban and negative public perception, we’ve all the more reason to keep our jade hidden, so as not to attract the attention of law enforcement. It’s bad publicity for the Kekonese community when someone is caught selling jade or a non-Kekonese person commits crimes using jade or comes down with the Itches. That’s why we train to use our green, and we police our own if there are any problems.”

“Oh, you make yourselves sound quite innocent,” said Anga Slatter, raising thin, well-plucked eyebrows. “As if you people haven’t attacked Blaise’s bookies, or murdered his coats.”

Kromner made a huffing noise of appreciative agreement, but Dauk said, “There’ve been offenses on both sides; I’m not saying otherwise. But the main issue is that the peaceful understanding we’ve had for many years has broken down. The police attention is bad for all of us, but there are fewer of us Kekonese and we’re not as powerful or influential as the Crews. We know we’re not in a position to go up against you. That’s why I’ve come here to petition you.”

“Well, get on with it and say what you’re offering.” Kromner frowned, the ample flesh of his cheeks pulling down his eyes at the corners as they slid for the first time over to the younger man sitting next to Dauk, who hadn’t spoken at all thus far. “And who’s this you’ve got with you? Doesn’t he talk at all?”

Dauk said, “Kaul Hiloshudon is a representative of one of the Green Bone clans in Kekon. He’s come from Janloon at my request.” The Bosses looked at the stranger next to Dauk with interest now. He was young, in his early thirties, though Kromner had a hard time guessing when it came to the Kekonese. He was looking back and forth attentively between the speakers during the conversation, and he was apparently important enough to travel with his own bodyguard, an equally young, tough-looking man who stood near the wall behind him. Kromner had to admit that there was something to be said for the kecks. They were a proud race, a don’t-fuck-with-me race; the women looked haughty and the men looked like they would put a knife in your side for the fun of it if you looked at them the wrong way. Blaise Kromner liked that about the kecks; they didn’t lie down easily, that was for sure, which was why he had to break their monopoly on jade or wipe their gemstone-toting toughs out of the city.

Dauk said something to the man next to him. The visitor nodded, then sat forward and began speaking in Kekonese, pausing frequently so that Dauk could translate his words into Espenian. “I understand that your organization wants to get in on the international jade market,” said the young man. “Kekon is the only place on earth to get jade, and it’s controlled by the Green Bone clans; anyone who wants to trade in green has to go through them. I come from one of the most powerful clans in my country and have complete authority to negotiate an agreement.”

Kromner looked to Dauk. “You’re saying this fellow can sell us jade?”

Dauk nodded slowly. “I will act as the go-between in this deal, but I don’t want any share of it for myself. You can get jade straight from Kekon, and the price for my part in this is that we reestablish the peace in Port Massy. If the Crews agree to leave us complete control over our part of Southtrap, including the freedom to run all our businesses and our grudge halls as we see fit, then we can broker a new agreement that benefits everyone.”

“That sounds reasonable to me, Blaise,” said Jo Boy Gasson, who had nothing at risk in Southtrap but was sure to benefit from the legal and political graft that would inevitably be necessary in such a venture. Kromner ignored him and said, with a strong hint of suspicion in his voice as he looked from Kaul to Dauk, “I thought you people didn’t sell jade to outsiders.”

Dauk made a face that looked rather pained, then spoke again in Kekonese to the man next to him. Kaul replied and Dauk relayed his words. “That used to be true. It’s admirable that our countrymen abroad are able to stick to tradition and keep jade to themselves. Often it’s the immigrants that hold on to the old ways while those of us in Kekon have to keep pace with the changing times. The truth is, my clan is in a long-standing war with another clan and we need the money. They’ve been selling jade and shine in Ygutan and so they have the advantage over us. We need our own markets.” The visitor waited patiently as Dauk caught up in the translation. “Any agreement we come to today would have to involve an entirely secure transaction. Our confidentiality has to be guaranteed. You see, the government of Kekon sells jade to the Espenian military, and it would be bad for my clan, which has ties within the government, to be selling jade to the Crews at the same time.”

Kromner waved a hand as if to dispel the concern. “That’s not a problem, we can promise that,” he said quickly. “How much could you sell to us, and at what price?”

The visitor said, “That depends on whether it’s raw or cut. There’s a state cartel—the Kekon Jade Alliance—that strictly regulates how much jade is mined and processed in Kekon. So there’s a tight supply of cut jade, and it’s very expensive. Raw jade can be smuggled out of the mines, so you’d get much more for your money, but it’s useless unless you have workers who can carve and polish it.”

Boss Kromner addressed his foreman for the first time. “Skinny, what do you think?”

“I think we can easily rustle up enough migrant laborers, Boss,” Reams said.

Dauk said, with concern, “Jade is dangerous for non-Kekonese to handle.”

“We know that,” Kromner retorted. “You think I’d go into a business without knowing anything about it, without doing my research? It was Espenia that created shine, not your country. With all the soldiers in Oortoko and the war vets that’ll need the drugs, you don’t think we can get SN1? If Skinny says we can get the labor, it’ll be no problem to keep them doped.”

Dauk conveyed this to the Kekonese clan representative, who said, “Raw jade, then. So long as you understand that the quality varies naturally in any given amount of uncut rock. Usually, you can expect about a thirty to fifty percent yield of cut jade.” Kaul leaned his arms on the table. “The market rate these days is ten million thalirs per kilogram.”

God, Seer, and Truth, that amount of money made even the Southside Crew’s lucrative narcotics trade look like small money. Even Blaise the Bull Kromner could not enter into such an expensive venture on his own, and before answering the Kekonese, he said to the other Bosses, “Now you know I’m getting into this for serious money. I’m not asking either the Baker Street or Wormingwood Crews to be a part of Southside’s business, but we can all see it’s serious money. If you want to be involved, now’s the time to speak. If you don’t, then feel free to say so, but I expect the old crewboy’s courtesies that we leave each other to eat well.”

Jo Boy Gasson smoothed his tie and said, “My Crew isn’t interested in handling jade ourselves. Too risky, and too much heat. We’re bookmakers, not fighters, you all know that. But we can front the money and handle all the financing in exchange for the usual cut. And we can pay the people who need to be paid to look the other way.” It was exactly what Kromner had expected, indeed it would’ve been difficult to proceed without it; he nodded in ready agreement.

Anga Slatter said, “Blaise, you know Ricky is going to expect that the Wormingwood Crew should have at least part of the action in this. If we’re talking about smuggling jade into the country from across the ocean, well, any shipments that come in or out of the city go through the ports, and we control the dockworkers unions. So let’s figure a fifteen percent cut, in exchange for getting the goods safely through the harbor. I have to clear all this with Ricky, of course,” she added, “but I’ll turn on the wifely charms, and I’m sure he’ll agree if you do.”

Kromner was disinclined to give any percent to that fool Sharp Ricky or his woman, but he thought about it and decided that fifteen percent was reasonable to guarantee the Wormingwood Crew’s cooperation and prevent him from having to spend his own people’s time and energy on getting the goods through the harborfront. Kromner entertained longer-term thoughts about taking over Wormingwood completely, after he’d established himself in the jade trade and the Southside Crew was large and strong enough to make the expansion. So he intended to get the percentage back eventually and didn’t quibble over it now. “Tell Ricky it’s fine by me.”

Throughout this discussion, Mr. Dauk and his Kekonese guest waited, the older man with a slightly anxious frown, the younger looking at the Bosses and their foremen with a strangely unmoving, but slightly off-center gaze, as if he was concentrating on something else while the Espenians talked. Kromner squinted at the man, then turned to Dauk and said, “Tell your friend that I’ll pay him seven hundred million thalirs for a hundred kilos of jade rock.”

Dauk’s mouth puckered as if he’d eaten something sour. He relayed the Boss’s words to his guest in an apologetic tone. To Kromner’s surprise, the younger man did not appear offended or thrown off by the low offer; he brought his attention back and smiled. “In my country, it’s the honor of an alliance that’s important. The leaders assign people they trust to work out the details in a fair manner.”

“Well, we’re not in your country, are we?” Kromner said. “Seven hundred.” He’d hoped to put himself in a stronger negotiating position by making the Kekonese uncomfortable, and was disappointed when the visitor gave a shrug.

“Everyone wants jade. I could sell to the Shotarians or the Ygutanians with less hassle, but I’m willing to come all the way here because of my Kekonese friends in Espenia who want to get along with you. Nine hundred.”

They settled, after some predictable back and forth, on eight hundred million thalirs for a hundred kilograms of raw jade to be delivered in four equal shipments so as to spread out the risk of it being intercepted by Espenian authorities. Kaul explained that everything would be handled through intermediaries and the jade would be transported via cargo carrier ships that were not owned or registered by anyone with ties to the Kekonese clans. All communication going forward would be passed through Dauk Losun or those in his confidence.

Kromner was pleased with how smoothly everything had proceeded. Let the Kekonese have their area of Southtrap and their gambling halls, which were of little consequence; in the whole country of Espenia, only his Crew now had a supply of jade straight from the source. Already Kromner was thinking of the fortune he would make on the black market. Of course he would keep some of the jade to equip his own foremen and coats. The Southside Crew would become more powerful than any of the others; perhaps he would be making a move to take over Wormingwood sooner than he’d planned. After all, it wasn’t as if Sharp Ricky could do a good job running his business from prison. Kromner would give the Slatters’ territory to one of his foremen—Skinny Reams or Moth Duke, perhaps. Skinny was more competent, there was no question of that, but he was too independently minded; he might well take what Kromner gave him and break off his own Crew. Moth wasn’t smart enough to entertain any complex thoughts, so he was more trustworthy.

The Kekonese man, Kaul, was still looking between the Bosses and speaking. He really was surprisingly amiable and nonchalant, not like the serious Mr. Dauk or that killer, Rohn. Kromner was not one to take anything at face value, however. He suspected that Kaul was merely a front man, someone young and easy to deal with, sent by those dangerous men who held the real power on that mysterious island. Kromner had never been anywhere near Kekon, but his imaginings included a shadowy council of elders, elaborate rituals, jade swords.

Again, Dauk translated Kaul’s words. “Since you’re foreigners, I feel I should tell you: Jade isn’t like your drugs or guns, which can be easily used by weak men. In Kekon, we say that jade can make men into gods. Only the strong can wield it. You’re going to have to move a lot of jade safely and secretly, making sure that it doesn’t get into the hands of street hoodlums in your own territories, or spirited away by your own low-level people hoping to make extra money. Who’s going to be responsible for making sure that the jade is handled properly?”

Kromner did not like the whiff of condescension he sensed in the Kekonese man’s words and the way the visitor was now sitting, leaning back in his chair with a slightly hooded expression. Kromner said, “No street punk or coat in my Crew would dare skim from Southside. Not unless they wanted to take a river cruise with no boat.” Anga Slatter smiled, and Jo Gasson grimaced, but the Kekonese didn’t react. “I personally guarantee it,” Kromner said.

Kaul shook his head. “Your word as a Boss is important of course, but it’s obvious you’re too important to be doing the unpleasant work in the streets yourself.” He gestured toward Kromner as if indicating his fine clothes and hefty body. “In a Kekonese clan, the person who would handle the dangerous work is called the Horn. He has to be completely loyal, respected by the men he commands, and feared by the clan’s enemies. He would be the one trusted to lead should anything happen to his boss. I’m asking if you have someone like that in your Crew, because you’ll need to put that person in charge of the jade.”

Kromner jabbed a finger at the man. “Listen, I like doing business with you just fine, but I don’t need you kecks to give me advice on how to run my own Crew. Have you personally ever had to keep an organization of hundreds of people in line?” When the Kekonese man didn’t answer, Kromner said, “I didn’t think so. So let me tell you something: I didn’t get to be the Boss of Southside by having incompetent men under me. Willy Reams here is the man for the job.”

Kaul studied Willy with interest, then he turned toward Dauk. The two Kekonese men had an extended conversation in their own language. “What’s he saying?” Kromner demanded.

Dauk cleared his throat and said, “He’s concerned about jade getting out into the streets and hurting innocent people, especially women and children. It’s against their code of honor, you see. So he’s asking whether Mr. Reams really is the top foreman in Port Massy—how long he’s been with you, how well he can fight, how many men he’s killed in combat. I told him Mr. Reams has a reputation, but I wouldn’t know for sure.” Dauk spread his hands. “What can I say? My friend is from the old country—all they respect is personal strength and violence.”

Willy fiddled uncomfortably with the hat in hands, but Kromner snorted. “Well, tell him not to worry his little keck head. Jo, Anga—tell him that my word and my men are dependable.”

Jo Gasson said, “Everyone knows that Skinny Reams from Southside is as tough as they get and runs the tightest ship in town.” And Anga Slatter nodded and said, “That’s the truth.”

Dauk repeated these words to Kaul, who looked at Reams again with intense assessment. Then he nodded. “That’s what I’ve heard as well, through my own sources. I’m a stranger in this country and am taking a big risk with this deal on behalf of my clan, so forgive me if I seem pushy with all my questions.” The clan representative spread his hands. “I’m happy with our arrangement.”

After leaving Thorick Mansion, Rohn Toro drove Hilo, Tar, and Dauk back to Dauk’s house, where Sana had prepared a lunch for all of them. The dining room of the house did not feel as cramped with only the five of them around the table. Dauk’s son was out with friends, and Anden was either with him or working an extra holiday shift at the hardware store.

Hilo could tell that Tar wanted to ask questions, but the Pillarman knew his manners and didn’t voice them aloud during a meal with clan outsiders. Hilo did his best to make idle conversation, but he had a headache from getting up before dawn and straining his Perception all morning. He hadn’t understood everything that had been said between the foreigners at the meeting, but he’d observed every expression and gesture, the way the foreigners sat in relation to each other and their tone of voice, and he’d carefully Perceived the heartbeat, pulse, breath, and bodily twitches signaling subtle turns of emotion during the conversation. So even though his Espenian was not up to Shae’s level, he felt that he understood the people he was dealing with.

He was glad he’d decided to come to Port Massy himself instead of sending his Weather Man; as smart as his sister was, sometimes she lacked a certain awareness when it came to connecting with people, striking the proper note with potential friends or potential enemies. Later today, Hilo planned to meet with Hami Tumashon, so the Master Luckbringer would know that even this far from Janloon, he still had the clan’s support and the Pillar’s notice. There was nothing more important than personal relationships; they were what made clan oaths real and not merely words that could be spoken by anyone.

Hilo glanced at his watch; it was too late to phone home to Janloon. Wen and the kids were sure to already be in bed.

When the meal was over, an expectant pause fell over the table. Hilo pushed back in his chair and said, “Dauk-jen, will you take a walk with me around the neighborhood? I haven’t seen much of Southtrap yet, but my cousin tells me there’s a toy store down the street where I can pick up some souvenirs for my sons.”

Dauk rose from his seat, and the others moved chairs out of the way so the two Pillars could step out of the house and talk alone. The air outside was bracing, sharp in a way that stung the nostrils. Hilo cupped a hand around his cigarette as he lit it, then offered one to Dauk, who declined politely, saying that he was trying to quit. As they strolled down the street, Hilo said, “You look puzzled, Dauk-jen. I’m guessing you have some questions on your mind.”

Dauk said, “I’m trying to figure out your purpose for being here, Kaul-jen.”

“My cousin called in a favor from the clan on behalf of the family that’s hosting him, to help you against the Crews. The deal we made this morning means that Boss Kromner gets the jade he wants and will leave you and your community alone. Isn’t that what you hoped for?”

“It’s not the solution I expected,” Dauk replied. “Selling jade to the Southside Crew might satisfy Kromner for a while, but the Bull is a greedy man, not someone who’s ever content with what he has, always seeking to have more money and power.”

Hilo nodded. “A man like that can’t hide what he is,” he said. “A dog that was once starved will bark at anyone who comes near his food, no matter how much he has now. And he suspects everyone else to be the same way. Kromner’s men follow him out of greed or fear, but no one loves a leader who cares only for his own meal.”

Dauk slowed his pace. “I’ve done my homework on you and your family, Kaul-jen. No Peak has consistently opposed the sale of jade to foreigners. Yet today you agreed to sell jade from your clan’s own stores to the Crews, who are nothing but criminals. I’m told you have a reputation as a fierce and uncompromising man, but you gave the Bosses exactly what they wanted.”

Hilo slowed alongside Dauk and said, “You were expecting a more dramatic and permanent solution.”

“When I was growing up in Kekon,” Dauk said slowly, “the One Mountain Society could whisper the name of anyone. Even the highest Shotarian officials, police captains, generals.”

“That’s true,” Hilo replied. “But as you’ve said before, this isn’t Kekon. A couple of years ago, I spilled blood in the Uwiwa Islands and it ended up being a problem, as my sister is still quick to remind me. Now it’s impossible for me or my Fists to get inside that country to deal with our enemies there. My Weather Man would have my head if I made the same mistake in Espenia.” He smiled wryly and said, “So we have to deal with this in a different way.”

“Then why make the trip all the way from Janloon personally? You could’ve sent a representative of your clan to negotiate a deal if selling jade was your intention all along.”

“That was never my only intention.” Hilo sped up again; he wanted to get out of the cold. “The clans in Kekon have been fighting illegal jade smuggling for years. My Horn and his Fists have confiscated thousands of kilos of raw jade scrap stolen from the country’s mines and en route to be shipped offshore by shine-addicted rockfish. Some of it is usable, but a lot of it is of too low a quality to be worth the cost of carving and polishing. Maybe some of it could go to schools or temples for training purposes, but the last thing any Green Bone wants is flawed jade that might weaken his abilities at a crucial moment.”

Hilo stopped in front of the toy store and looked in the window, grinding out his cigarette. “Most foreigners, though, unless they’re Espenian military specialists, don’t know the difference, and I’m guessing that Boss Kromner doesn’t have an experienced Kekonese jade expert on hand. All that mediocre jade scrap sitting around in No Peak’s storage—that’s what I’m selling to the Bull and his Crew.”

They went inside the store. Hilo eyed a train set but it was too large to bring home in his luggage. He bought some bilingual board books and a water gun for Niko and a stuffed tiger for Ru. The lady behind the cash register greeted Dauk by name and asked Hilo if he was visiting from out of town. She was delighted to learn he was from Janloon; her parents were from there.

As they walked back to the house, Dauk said, “Even if what you’re selling to Kromner isn’t high quality, it’ll still make the Crews stronger and more dangerous. It’s not a solution.”

“It’ll focus their attention elsewhere for quite a while,” Hilo said. “It’ll buy you time, Dauk-jen. Time to strengthen your own position—with more men and more jade.”

Dauk drew to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. “What’re you proposing?”

Hilo stopped as well and turned around. “That No Peak equips you with jade—cut jade of good quality—as well as a few people to help train the Green Bones you have or will have. Your man, Rohn Toro, is not young, and you’ve said yourself you’re short on others like him. Where does that leave you in five years? I can deal with that worry you have, by helping you build the advantage you need over the Crews.”

The older man did not react at first. “You’re able to move that much cut jade?”

“I have a clever Weather Man,” Hilo said. “I trust her to come up with a way.”

Dauk put his hands in his pockets. Then he said slowly, “One does not simply give away jade, not even to a friend.” He looked at Hilo with suspicion. “All things come at a cost, especially jade. So what cost will No Peak make us pay?”

Hilo put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We only met this week, so I know that we’ve no history on which to trust each other. But I’ve done my homework on you as well, Dauk-jen. You were born in Janloon and you come from a Green Bone family; your father was a war hero against the Shotarians. You came here as a refugee and now the people in this neighborhood call you the Pillar. You’ve shown kindness and protection to my cousin, for which I’m grateful, and since I’ve been here you’ve been nothing but hospitable. You were able to arrange a meeting with the Bosses on short notice and to play the part I asked of you perfectly. So I like and trust you. And it’s made me think that we can help each other from now on.”

Dauk looked at him steadily. “You want a foreign tributary to the No Peak clan.”

Hilo considered this. “Not exactly, but something like that.” No Peak had a handful of tributary minor clans in Kekon, who fell under the umbrella of No Peak’s resources, protection, and jade allocation. In exchange, they either paid tribute out of their business earnings, just like Lantern Men, or partnered with the clan to run certain townships or industries. No Peak’s largest tributary, the Stone Cup clan, did not hold any street territory of its own but managed a sizable share of the construction trade, while its second largest, the Jo Sun clan, controlled most of the southern peninsula of Kekon.

“My clan is expanding our business interests in this country,” Hilo said. “We’re buying real estate. We have plans to export more Kekonese goods to Espenia, and we want to help our Lantern Men in the clan to grow their companies by entering the Espenian market. My Weather Man wants to send more Kekonese students, like my cousin Andy, to get an international education before they work in the office on Ship Street. We need help to do all of that. We need connections in this country, and we need partners and allies.” Not just the pragmatic partners that Hilo knew the Weather Man’s office was cultivating—foreign politicians, business people, educated graduates—but true allies who understood the weight of clan and jade, even if it was in their own strange and provincial way. Hilo gave Dauk Losun’s shoulder a firm pat. “Don’t take this the wrong way at all, but you don’t come across like any sort of Pillar I’ve ever met in Kekon. But now I can see why you’re the right sort of man to be Pillar in a place like Espenia. You stay in the background, but you make things happen. I would like for Green Bones to grow strong on both sides of the ocean. Will you and your people help in that, Dauk-jen?”

Dauk was silent for a minute. Then he said, “I hope you’ll understand if I can’t agree to such a proposal right away. We’re a small but proud community here in Southtrap, and even though people call me Pillar, it’s only out of respect. Others would have to agree, and no offense, Kaul-jen, but you’re still a stranger to us. We don’t know what will happen after this agreement you’ve made with the Crews, whether it will hold, or whether it’ll only bring more trouble.”

Hilo let go of Dauk’s shoulder and blew into his cupped hands to warm them from the chill. Dauk did not seem bothered by the cold. “I’m not offended by your reluctance at all,” Hilo assured him. “In fact, I would’ve had to reconsider my favorable impression of your judgment if you’d said yes right away without first talking to your wife and friends. I’ll say only one other thing, and then let’s get back to the house where it’s warm. I don’t make promises lightly. You can ask anyone who knows me whether that’s true. Here’s the promise I’m making to you, Dauk-jen. If you’re willing to trust me and to ally with the No Peak clan, in five years, we Kekonese will have more power in this country than any of the Crews.”

The Pillar of Southtrap clasped his hands together and touched them to his forehead, inclining in a salute. “That’s something I’d like to bring about, Kaul-jen.”