“A nasty little scene. But who does it profit? Why?” His voice said he found it improbable.

“It profits those who banded together to plan it. The Jamaillian nobles are tired of a self-indulgent boy who knows nothing of ruling except how to spend the treasury on himself. Chalced gains Bingtown for its own province, to plunder as it pleases. They have long claimed that this territory of the Cursed Shores was rightfully theirs.”

“Jamaillia would be foolish to give Bingtown up to Chalced. What other province yields such a rich harvest to the Satrapy?”

“Perhaps they believe it is better to yield Bingtown as part of a bargain than to simply lose it to the Chalcedeans as a conquest of war. Chalced grows stronger and more warlike. Internal strife and Northland raiders paralyzed the Six Duchies for years. That kingdom used to keep Chalced occupied. In the years since the Red Ship Wars, the Six Duchies have been occupied with rebuilding. Chalced has become a powerful nation, rich with slaves and ambition. They push to the north, in border skirmishes. But they also look south. To Bingtown and its rich trade. And the Rain Wild River lands.”

“Lands?” Reyn gave a snort of contempt. “There is so little . . .” He halted his words abruptly, recalling to whom he was speaking. “They are fools,” he finished succinctly.

“On the ship, coming here-” For a moment, the woman seemed to have sudden difficulty speaking, as if she could not catch her breath. “I was held captive for a time in the captain's quarters.” He waited, then leaned closer to capture her soft words. "There were charts in his room.

Bingtown Harbor. The mouth of the Rain Wild River. Why else would he have such things, if he did not intend to use them?"

“The Rain Wild River protects its own,” Reyn declared boldly. “We have nothing to fear. The secret ways of the river are known to none but our own.”

“But tonight, there are many of you here. Representatives from many Rain Wild families, I am told. If they were taken hostage in the plundering of Bingtown, can you be sure that none of them would reveal your Rain Wild secrets?”

Her logic was relentless. Suddenly, small inconsistencies made sense. Why else allow the Kendry through the blockade and into the harbor? “They would have allies among the New Traders here,” he said half aloud, thinking of all the new folk who had just come ashore as well. “People whose ties to the slave trade in Chalced are as strong or stronger than their links to Jamaillia. People who have lived amongst us and learned enough of our ways to know that both Bingtown Traders and Rain Wild Traders would be gathered here tonight.”

“If I were you, I would not be positive that there were not such folk among the Bingtown Old Traders as well,” she pointed out quietly.

A trickle of cold suspicion ran through him. Davad Restart. Of course. “If you knew of this plot, why did you come to Bingtown?” he demanded of her.

“Obviously, if I had known, I would not have come,” she retorted. “I have only this evening gathered enough of the pieces to grasp the whole picture. I am telling you this not only because I do not wish to die, but because I do not wish to see Bingtown fall. All my life, Bingtown has been the center of my studies. I have always wanted to come here: it is the city of my dreams. So I connived and begged to get the Satrap to allow me to come. Now that I am here, I do not want to be a witness to its death throes, any more than I want to die here before I have fully comprehended its wonders.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

“Act before they do. Take the Satrap and his Companions hostage, yes, but keep us safe. Alive, he is a bargaining chip. Dead, he is the spark that ignites the fire of war. Not all the Jamaillian nobles can be involved in this. Send a message out somehow, to alert those who are loyal to the Satrapy. Tell them what is transpiring here. They will mount an effort to aid you, if you promise to return Cosgo unharmed. There will be war with Chalced, but eventually, there is always war with Chalced. Take the time I have given you by this warning, and secure the town as best you can. Gather supplies; hide your children and families. Get word to the folk up the Rain Wild River.”

He was incredulous. “But you say it is most likely that they will act tonight. There is no time for any of that!”

“You are wasting time dancing with me now,” she pointed out acidly. “You should be getting the word out right now. I suspect there will be incidents in the streets tonight. Fires, brawls, whatever it will take to ignite riots in the city. It will spread out to the ships in the harbor. Someone, intentionally or by accident, will give the Chalcedeans an excuse to attack. Perhaps they will simply receive a message that the Satrap has been killed.” She looked unerringly into his veiled eyes. “By morning light, Bingtown will be burning.”