You did not tell me your man spoke my language," the translator said slowly, "but he is mistaken.  Why would I lie?"

Gar started to answer, Because you enjoy making trouble, but Ralke forestalled him.  "You would lie because the boss will leave it to you to draw the money from the treasury and bring it to me.  You'll give me what I think the boss agreed upon and keep the rest for yourself."

The look the translator gave him was pure hatred.

The boss said something, and the translator turned to answer.

"The boss wants to know what you're talking about," Gar murmured, "and the translator is telling him he can't repeat it, because what you're saying is so insulting."

"None of that!" Ralke said sharply.  He turned and bowed to the boss and his wife again. "Tell them I have only the highest respect for them, and was only discussing how many marks there are to a silver pound."

The translator flashed him a glare that should have shriveled him, but turned back to interpret.

"He told the boss what you really said this time," Gar said.

"Fortune favored me when you joined our caravan, Gar Pike!"  Ralke forced a smile for the translator.  "It seems you and I shall do business of our own, interpreter.  I'm Ralke; who are you?"

"My name is only for my friends," the interpreter snapped, but the boss cleared his throat with impatience, and the translator gave him a guilty glance as he added, "and for my business associates.  I am Torgi."  He turned to the boss and gave a brief explanation.

"He's just telling them that you're trying to be friendly by exchanging names with him," Gar muttered.  "He's giving them your name, too."

"As though they didn't have it already," Ralke returned.

Torgi turned back to them.  "What do you suggest?"

"That you interpret my prices accurately," Ralke told him, "but I'll raise them by one part in five.  Then after the sale, you and I will split that one part, half each."

"One part in ten is better than nothing," Torgi grumbled.

"Much better than your boss learning how you were garbling his words," Gar reminded.

Torgi's glare would have seen him convicted for poisoning on a civilized world, but he could only say, "I agree to your terms.  Now, how much do you want for the dye?"