Chapter 10

The oranges, Shota decided, were a two-faced gift. On the one hand, they were his for essentially nothing, and they were in demand so he could sell them. On the other, until he got them sold he had to stay a boy. He could eat oranges as a boy but then he'd lose his trade goods. He'd just go hungry, he decided, until he could sell them. He decided to see how much passage would cost him and get an idea of how much he could get for his oranges. He wandered down to the pier.

A heavily pregnant woman leaned against a bollard, watching as sailors unloaded burlap-wrapped packages into an ox-cart. Every once in a while, she rubbed her back or licked her lips. Perhaps she would know how much passage to Honshu cost.

Shota headed in her direction.

"How long?" the woman called to the man directing the loading operation. "I'm so thirsty."

"Halfway there," the man replied. "Hey, boy," he called, catching sight of Shota. "Are those oranges?"

"Yes, sir," Shota said, hurrying up to the bollard.

"Oranges," the woman murmured longingly. "I must have them."

"Will you sell them?" the man asked.

"Oh, yes," the woman echoed eagerly. "Give them to me." She levered herself off the bollard and reached into the back of the ox-cart. "Here." She pulled out one of the packages and smiled at him. "Take this. It's fabric in the latest styles all the way from the finest makers in Kyoto."

Shota bristled a little at that because he knew his parents had been the finest weavers of all, but his common sense asserted itself. "How much?"

"Three bolts to the package," the man said, smiling. "It's a very generous offer," he said to Shota in an aside. "She's pregnant, as you can see, and whimsical at the best of times. Take advantage." The woman frowned and he shot her a grin so loving Shota knew he must be her husband. She shook her head and smiled back.

"Thank you, ma'am," Shota said, handing over the oranges and taking the package. He peeked inside as the woman began to peel a fruit. Yes, indeed, the fabric was there as the people had said, and it was beautifully made. "Sir," he asked, "is this your ship?"

"Indeed it is. We are sailors and traders merchant mariners."

"What would it cost to go to Honshu? I need to get there to find my older sister. Our parents are dead. I have to find her and bring her home." Shota feared he'd said too much, but the words had just poured out of him. The love these people bore for each other reminded him of his parents. His felt his heart lurch with grief.

"You have no family left here, then?" The woman spoke gently. Shota shook his head. A look passed between the couple.

The man nodded and chuckled. He turned to Shota. "One of those bolts of fabric, I think, will cover your passage to Honshu."

Shota considered, but it didn't take him long, as he saw the woman frown slightly. He'd accept before she could change her husband's mind. "When do we leave?" he asked, extending one of the bolts.

"On the tide," the man replied. He looked at the woman again. She nodded. "On second thought, I'll buy that bolt from you." He reached into his belt purse and pulled out a handful of coins. He handed them to Shota, who was stupefied at the generous amount and readily surrendered the fabric. The man went on, "Run up to the market and get yourself some warm clothes and food with this. I won't charge you for passage if you get yourself the right gear and food for three days. I'll put you to work instead."

"Go left. There's a chandlery there that will have what you need. Hurry," the woman said with a smile. "There's still unloading to be done."