The Complete Liveship Traders Trilogy: Ship of Magic, The Mad Ship, Ship of Destiny. Robin Hobb
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carriage. Her parents and older brother Cerwin, would, unfortunately, be with her. If Malta greeted them as they alighted, Delo’s parents would be bound to ask where Mama and Grandmother were. Malta was not ready to face awkward questions just yet. Still, it would be such fun to go in arm and arm with Delo, two dazzling young women of the Bingtown Traders entering society together. She ventured a step closer. If Delo’s parents and brother preceded her, there was a chance she could hist to Delo and have her wait for her.
As Malta had hoped, Delo’s parents got out first. Her mama was dazzling. Her gown was simple and deep blue. The neckline left her throat and shoulders bare save for a single silver chain with a row of pendant perfume gems. How Malta wished her own mother would appear, just once, so elegantly dressed. Even from where she lurked, she could smell the heady scent of the gems. Delo’s mama took her papa’s arm. He was tall and thin. His linen jacket and trousers were also blue, flattering his wife’s gown. They ascended the steps to the hall like folk from a legend. Behind them, Cerwin waited impatiently for Delo to clamber out of the carriage. Like his father, his coat and trousers were blue, his boots a softly gleaming black. He wore a single gold earring in one ear, and his black hair was daringly curled into long locks. Malta, who had known him all her life, suddenly felt an odd little shiver in her belly. Never before had he looked so handsome to her. She longed to astonish him with her presence.
Instead, she herself was astonished when Delo finally appeared in the carriage door. Her dress echoed the colour of her mother’s, but there the resemblance stopped. Her hair was plaited into a crown decked with fresh flowers, and a flounce of lace graced her short skirts to make them almost mid-calf. Matching lace trimmed the high collar and cuffs. She wore no jewellery at all.
Malta could not contain herself. She swept up to Delo like an avenging spirit. ‘But you said you were going to wear a gown this year! You said your mama had promised you would,’ she greeted her friend. ‘What happened?’
Delo looked up at Malta miserably. Then her eyes widened in astonishment and her mouth opened. No sound came out of it.
Cerwin stepped protectively in front of her. ‘I don’t believe you could know my sister,’ he said in a haughty voice.
‘Cerwin!’ Malta exclaimed in annoyance. She peered past him at Delo. ‘What happened?’
Delo’s eyes widened another fraction. ‘Malta? Is that you?’
‘Of course it’s me. Did your mama change her mind?’ A nasty suspicion began to unfold in Malta’s mind. ‘You must have had dress fittings. You must have known you weren’t going to be allowed to wear a gown!’
‘I didn’t think you’d be here!’ Delo wailed miserably, while Cerwin Trell asked incredulously, ‘Malta? Malta Vestrit?’ His eyes moved over her in a way that she knew was rude. Rude or not, it made another shiver run over her.
‘Trell?’ Shukor Kev was dismounting from his horse. ‘Trell, is that you? Good to see you. And who is this?’ His incredulous glance went from Malta to Cerwin. ‘You can’t bring her to the Harvest Ball, friend. You know it’s only for Traders.’ Something in his tone made Malta uncomfortable.
Another carriage had pulled up. The footman was having trouble opening the door, the catch appeared to be stuck. Malta tried not to stare. It was not ladylike. But the footman caught sight of her and appeared to be so struck by her appearance that he completely forgot his task. Within the carriage, a portly man thudded his shoulder against the door, which flew open, narrowly missing her. And Davad Restart, in all his clumsy glory nearly tumbled out into the street.
The footman had caught at her arm to steady her as she stepped hastily back from the wide-flung door. Had he not had hold of her arm, she could have easily stepped away and avoided disaster. Instead she was there as Davad caught his balance by snatching at the door and then trod squarely on the hem of her dress. ‘Oh, I beg pardon, I do,’ he declared fervently, and then the words died on his lips as he looked her up and down. So transformed was she that for a time she was sure he did not recognize her. She could not resist. She smiled at him.
‘Good evening, Trader Restart,’ she greeted him. She curtseyed, a trickier, task in the longer skirts than she had known it would be. ‘I trust you are well.’
Still, he goggled at her. After a moment, he opened his mouth and squeaked out, ‘Malta? Malta Vestrit?’
Another carriage came to take the place of the Trells’. This one was resplendent in green and gilt, Rain Wild colours. That would be the representatives from the Rain Wild families. The ball would begin as soon as they were seated.
Behind her, like an echo, came Shukor’s incredulous, ‘Malta Vestrit? I don’t believe it!’
‘Of course.’ She smiled up at Davad again, enjoying the astonished way his eyes leapt from the necklace at her throat to the lace that frothed at her bosom. He suddenly glanced behind her. She turned, but there was no one there. Damn. Delo had gone into the Ball without her! She turned back to Davad, but he was staring wildly about. As the door of the Rain Wild carriage opened, he suddenly seized her by the shoulders and thrust her behind him, almost inside the still open door of his carriage. ‘Be still!’ he hissed. ‘Say nothing at all!’
He turned back and bowed low as the Rain Wild representatives exited their carriage. Malta peeped past him. There were three of them this year. Two tall and one short was all she could tell of them, hooded and cloaked as they were. The dark fabric of their cloaks was something she had never seen before. It was black when they were still, but any motion set it to dancing in scintillant colours. Green, blue, and red shone briefly in the darkness at the tiniest movement.
‘Trader Restart,’ one greeted him. A woman’s reedy voice.
‘Trader Vintagli,’ he replied, bowing even deeper. ‘I welcome you to Bingtown and the Harvest Ball.’
‘Why, thank you, Davad. Shall I see you within, then?’
‘Most certainly,’ he replied. ‘As soon as I find my gloves. I seem to have dropped them on the floor of my carriage.’
‘How careless of you!’ she rebuked him. Her voice caressed the words oddly. She then moved on after her companions.
The still autumn air reeked of Restart’s sudden sweat. The moment the doors of the hall closed behind the Rain Wild family, he spun about to confront Malta. He seized her by one arm and shook her.
‘Where is your grandmother?’ he demanded. Then before she could reply, he asked as urgently, ‘Where is your mother?’
She should have lied. She could have said they had already gone in, or that she had just now stepped out for a breath of cooler air. Instead, she said simply, ‘I’ve come alone.’ She glanced aside from him, and spoke more softly, adult to adult. ‘Since Grandfather died, I’m afraid they’ve become more housebound than ever. It’s so sad. But I knew that if I did not get out and about, I should simply go mad. You can’t imagine how gloomy it has been for me—’
She gasped as he clutched her arm more tightly and urged her towards the coach. ‘Quickly! Before anyone else sees you… you haven’t spoken to anyone else, have you?’
‘I… no. Well, only Delo and her brother. I just arrived you see, and… let go of me! You’re crushing my dress.’
It both frightened and shocked her, the way he shoved her into his carriage and climbed determinedly in after her. What did he have in mind? She had heard tales of men driven by passion and lust to do impulsive things, but Davad Restart? He was old! The idea was too disgusting! He slammed the door, but this time it refused to catch. He held it shut as he called up, ‘Driver! To the Vestrit townhouse. Quickly.’ To Malta he said, ‘Sit down. I’m taking you home.’
‘No! Let me out, I want to go to the Harvest Ball. You can’t do this to me. You’re not my father!’
Trader Restart was panting as he clutched the door handle and held it shut. The carriage started forward with a lurch and Malta sat down hard.
‘No,