Madame Shinbi’s business was more of an entire complex than a simple salon and parlor, Justin found. It took up most of its square city block, leaving room for only a row of smaller shops along its western edge. Both halves of that street were purveying sweets, flowers, accessories, souvenirs, and other small items in the tourist trade.

Business was good, Justin noticed, as he walked south along it to the next intersection. He turned left there, through a half-open double gate capped by a curved black beam resting on two poles, like an inverted torii. The other side was a blank bare alley; clean, but empty of life or decoration, all windowless white-plastered rear walls of mortared stone, topped by more wooden palisades.

Security through banality, he thought to himself. The only people who would linger here were obvious troublemakers or tourists with weird fixations on backstreets.

The block to the south, now on his right, was split in half by another empty alley. Probably the main delivery route, judging by the canal water glimmering at its far end. The Salon’s back gate was a few yards past that, and Justin ambled over to it, scanning for a bell or clapper or knocker. He found a green braided cord, reminiscent of Kim’s sandals, with a red wooden ball at its end, hanging in a little box, and gave it an experimental tug. There was a clack overhead, like a small mallet hitting a board, and he looked up at the shadowy roofed bastion above.

“The Dawn Salon will gladly accommodate the honorable guest at the front entrance,” a deep male voice rumbled out of the darkness inside it, two stories up.

“The Daigo siblings, from the Shrine of the Rod and the Fist, sent me,” Justin said. He heard the faintest whisper of a sigh from above.

“I dare not presume to question the honorable guest’s veracity, but I regret to say that I find that most dubious,” the voice said. “Perhaps there has been a miscommunication?”

“Kon’s about this high,” Justin said, putting his hand out. “Good with his river-stick; goes barefoot, a little rude and greedy. Kim’s shyer and much more polite, but very protective of him; about this tall; ponytail, green sandals. Nice kids, overall; could probably do with more affection in their lives.”

There was an indrawn breath and a thump above. As Justin stood silently in the alley’s quiet, he could hear footsteps descending stairs on the wall’s other side. A moment later, the left half of the gate cracked open to reveal a stereotypically tall, bearded, meaty guardsman, in black leather boots, heavy black trousers, and a thick, quilted, thigh-length coat of dark brown livery, buttoned on the side. A gilt symbol of a half-sun over four offset lines of wavecaps filled most its chest area.

“Why?” he asked, clearly suspicious.

“They recommended Madame Shinbi to me for reliable and discreet moneychanging,” Justin answered.

The guard gave him a careful visual inspection, twice over . Apparently not finding anything objectionable, he stepped back, pulling the door barely wide enough for Justin to slip through sideways.

“You may enter,” the guard said.

“Thank you,” Justin said, bobbing his head respectfully. He eeled through the gate and stopped there, hands at his side, taking a quick glance around. The delivery courtyard was all business; rough slate paving and closed storehouses or open-sided stabling lining its walls, more than half filled with barrels and crates. Another, smaller gate led into the ground floor of the building proper.

“Wait here, please,” the guard said, and Justin nodded again. The guard closed and barred the door, then actually hustled across the yard to the building’s gate, the left half of which opened just as he reached it, and immediately thunk!ed close behind him.

That’s some well trained staff, Justin thought. He’d worked in high-profile courthouses that were less professional. The building’s internal gatekeeper had to be watching from somewhere, but the gates and the walls near them were featureless, leaving nowhere to conceal a spyhole. Magic? Wait; no - better not show too much interest.

He tilted his head back and gazed at the bright blue morning sky overhead, focusing on the one wispy strip of white cloud he could see.

Less than five minutes later, the building gate’s right half opened. The guard stepped out and to the left, motioning Justin forward. “This way, please, honored guest,” he said.

Justin strode across the courtyard and inside; the door closed behind him, revealing a dimly lit combined storage and mudroom holding three more liveried men. Two were similar to the first guard, albeit shorter, thicker, and clean-shaven, with the puffy faces of a long-time brawlers. The third man was tall, thin, and butlerish, in finer livery and a meticulously trimmed Van Dyke. Behind him was a heavy door set in a solid frame.

He was holding up a cylinder of clear glass by its ring handle of silvery metal. It contained a glowing blue crystal and was capped with more of the metal at both ends, engraved with sigils Justin couldn’t quite make out. The man scrutinized Justin in its light.

Dark now, when the sun is bright outside, to blind intruders. Justin thought. I wouldn’t be surprised if they keep it brightly lit in here when it’s dark outside, as well. And I’ll bet that lamp’s magic, too; some kind of detector?

The houseman put the lamp down on a shelf, then wrapped his own hands together at neck height and shook them back and forth twice, obviously a gesture of greeting. “I am Polou the Damo, honored guest,” he said. “May I have a name with which to introduce you?” he asked.

“Justin of the Carse family; I have no titles,” Justin said. He followed the Damo’s example, but shook his hands back at the man only once.

“The Madame is currently engaged with other guests, and regrets the necessity for a short delay before she can welcome you herself. In the meantime, we would like to offer you our hospitality; we have prepared a private room for your exclusive use. Please follow me.”

“Thank you,” Justin said, inclining his head.

The Damo opened the door behind himself, picked up the cylinder, and led Justin through. They went a short distance down the slate-floored, brown-wood-wainscotted hall beyond, past more doors. The Damo opened the fifth to reveal a simple but nicely appointed sitting room with a light brown and blonde parquet floor under red rugs, creamy wallpaper, two small white couches facing each other over a basic dark green coffee table, and a paned pyramidal skylight overhead.

“My stomach is still somewhat uncertain from my journeying,” Justin said, moving to stand by the nearer couch, “so please do not feel obliged to offer me any refreshments. I would prefer not to waste the Madame’s resources on an unreciprocable politesse.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, but the larger truth was that he wasn’t willing to trust the establishment’s food or drink yet.

“As you wish,” the Damo said. “The Madame will join you presently. I must return to my other duties; please excuse me.” He bowed and exited.

Justin sat on the couch and reached down to the bottom of his left pant leg. He undid the lowest of the buttons holding the ankle-to-upper-calf flaps closed, then snapped it free with a pull and twist. He put the button on the table and did the same again on the right, then slipped the elasticized fabric covers off each of the two gemstones. Beneath them were a faceted dark blue sapphire and a cabochon piece of luminously bright green jadeite. He slide the gems into the table’s center, put the bitty fabric caps in his left pocket, leaned back into the couch, and clasped his hands together over his waist.

He was completely certain he was being watched by hidden observers, so he sat and waited in patience, breathing steadily through his nose on a regular count.

 

# # #

 

Going by the skylight’s patch of illumination, he sat quietly for about ten minutes before the latch of the far door clicked. He rose to his feet as an older woman with a short sleek cap of ear-length black hair entered, hands pressed flat at her own waist. She was dressed in layers – a thin white wrap under a black one, under a floor-length dress of dark blue silk that was covered by a long white apron. The woman moved to the side of the door, her face expressionless, and another walked in.

With her perfect coiffure of braided hoops and bejeweled hairpins, her glowing skin, and her brighter blue silk robes embroidered with gold stitching, not unlike hanfu, this had to be Madame Shinbi.

She was also overweight. Not quite obese yet, but definitely on the far side of chubby.

“Welcome to the Dawn Salon, Mister Carse,” she said. “I am your hostess, Shinbi Yun.”

“Thank you for your time, Madame,” Justin said, wrapping his hands like the Damo had and giving her three shakes. “Please, call me Justin. I am newly come to Ribe, and after something of a falling-out between myself and my appointed guide, I appear to have been abandoned without counsel. I am wholly unfamiliar with the proper local customs, so I humbly entreat you to forgive my errors in such regards.”

“Yes, of course,” Shinbi said, smiling, “Please, sit. Your manners may not be ours, but your courtesy is estimable. I know many older men of good repute here who could benefit greatly from your example.”

Justin waited until she had settled herself first before sitting down again. The maid closed the door and moved to stand beside her mistress.

“May I?” Shinbi said, indicating the gems.

“Please,” Justin said. “I have no other appointments today to hurry me, but I confess I am very eager to learn how far my assets may extend here.”

The maid produced a white felt cloth from a horizontal fold at her apron’s waist and placed it in Shinbi’s outstretched hand. The Madame picked up the jadeite with it and brought the stone closer for a thorough examination.

“This is an excellent piece,” she said. “The polishing is exceptional, and the quality of the stone is first-rate. I might even purchase it for my own use.” She set it down and picked up the sapphire. An intrigued look flickered across her face.

“I am unfamiliar with this faceting,” she admitted. “But I find it attractive, and the stone itself is superb.”

“It’s called a ‘radiant’ cut, Madame,” Justin said. “It was only created about. . .um. . .forty-five years ago, by an artisan named Hentry Grossbard. He hybridized a square cut with the brilliance of the older round cuts. It was considered sufficiently original at the time for the government of his nation to award him a writ of licensing. Which has, ah, since expired. This version has seventy facets - twenty-five on the crown, eight on the girdle, and thirty-seven on the pavilion.”

‘Writ of licensing’ instead of ‘patent’, Justin thought. Another linguistic incongruity.

“I find your familiarity with the item praiseworthy, Mister Carse.”

“Thank you, Madame. I chose my assets very carefully and did a great deal of research on them before I came. The fact is, I am a permanent immigrant to Ribe. For reasons beyond my control, I can never return home; nor, to be honest, would I ever desire to. Please understand,” Justin held up a hand, as if swearing an oath, “I left without regrets, and on good terms with all who knew me, or at worst neutral. No troubles will follow me. But there were some. . .tragic losses, and after those I received an unrelated bequest of both crafting tools and training in their use.”

He brought his hand down to his lap. “I found myself in good pocket with the opportunity for an entirely new career, and so. . .here I am.”

“Ah,” Shinbi said. “I appreciate the explanation.” She put a hand up to her cheek, and tapped it with her index finger. “Mister Carse,” she continued, “Under normal conditions, I would raise further subjects less immediately, but I have pressing responsibilities, and you have confessed some eagerness. May I therefore hear more about your plans? If you still have unmet needs in certain areas, they could become our mutual opportunities.”

“I would be grateful. Miss Kim did recommend you for your contacts, after all, second to your discretion.”

“ I had no idea she was so – informed - about me,” Shinbi murmured. At the same time, the maid minusculely stiffened.

“I promised them a little silver as a reward for their advice and guidance, after Kon poked me awake with his river-stick,” Justin said, “and then I played the big brother for them a bit, up to the Dawnway. They seemed to take it to heart.”

“I – see,” Shinbi said, her chins quivering. Justin wasn’t completely sure, but he got the impression she was restraining laughter. Or possibly screams. Or both. Between her reactions and the maid’s, though, there was definitely something odd going on.

But that was a topic for later investigation.

“Other than some ready cash and temporary lodgings,” Justin mused, “I suppose my first priority now should be hiring an advocate to manage the regularization of my status as a citizen. Then the purchase of a ship suitable for both living aboard and crafting and selling my wares, and third acquiring the licensing and so on required towards those ends.

“Those wares will be alchemy, at the start, with a focus on potions and particularly on curatives. So fourth, after I’m established, might be hiring a comparably discreet local practitioner to review my methods and products . .” he paused to smile knowingly at her, “. . .should Madame be interested in the opportunity to lead my list of preferred customers. Oh, and I need a tailor, soonest, for appropriate local clothes.”

“Encouragingly summarized, Mister Carse,” Shinbi beamed. “I feel confident that we can come to some satisfactory arrangements. I know of several skilled advocate’s offices that could easily meet all your stated needs, and I would be glad to have my household provide you with a start on a suitable wardrobe. I must say, it’s very refreshing to deal with someone so forethoughtful and organized at such a young age.”

“I’m older than I look,” Justin demurred. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me? While I am enjoying your company, I would prefer to more respect your responsibilities.”

“Thank you, and no; I think we have more than enough in the boat for now,” Shinbi said. “Would half a percent of these gems’ appraisals be an acceptable fee?”

Justin shrugged helplessly. “I have hardly the slightest idea of the current market, but I’m willing to trust the sibs’ opinion of you, so yes. And likewise, please use your own judgment for the denominations.”

“Two percent is standard for the banks, and the range is one to two percent among legitimate smaller private exchangers,” Madame Shinbi explained, as the maid folded up the gems inside the white felt and tucked them away in her apron. “So half a percent is an especially favorable rate, but not so low as to merit suspicion when precedence in the purchase of curatives is also on the scales in the longer term.

“Thank you for relying on the Dawn Salon for your needs, Mister Carse,” she said, rising to her feet. The maid went to the door and opened it as Justin stood as well. “Miss Mai will bring you your specie soon,” Shinbi continued, then glided out of the room and crooked a sideways index finger at someone to her right, “while Lua here will convey you to our fitters. If I cannot meet with you again today, I will be looking forward to our next appointment with anticipation.” She swept off to the left.

Maid Miss Mai (Justin smothered a grin) exited the room as well, leaning down to whisper briefly at someone out of sight - presumably ‘Lua’ – before she followed Shinbi off to the left.

A young girl, perhaps in her mid-teens, and much smaller than the other women, but glowing with health much as they were, stepped around the doorjamb and bowed gracefullly. She was dressed like Mai, her blue overdress several shades darker, and her longer black hair was twisted in a dozen or so loops pinned against her head, except for a straight, flat-ended section pouring down the middle of her back like a black waterfall.

“Please follow me, honored guest,” she said, in a voice as sweet as birdsong.