“As of yet, I have found no direct evidence of your treason. I have made no official pronouncement against you. I suggest that you do not goad me to look more deeply into your involvement. Your concerns for a dead traitor do not do you credit. If you are wise, you will leave now.” Serilla dismissed her by looking down at her papers once more. She prayed the woman would just go away. Once she left, Serilla could summon armed men and send them after her. She pressed her toes against the floor to keep her knees from shaking.

Silence lasted. Serilla refused to look up. She waited to hear this Ronica Vestrit trudge away in defeat. Instead, the Trader’s fist suddenly slammed down on the desk, making the ink hop in its well. “You are not in Jamaillia!” Ronica declared harshly. “You are in Bingtown. And here the truth is fixed by the facts, not by your decree.” Ronica’s features were contorted with anger and determination. The Bingtown Trader leaned across the desk, shoving her face close to Serilla’s. “If Davad had been a traitor, there would be proof of it, here, in his records. However foolish he might have been, his accounts were always in order.”

Serilla pressed herself back into the chair. Her heart was hammering, and there was a roaring in her ears. The woman was completely deranged. She sought the will to leap to her feet and flee, but she was paralyzed. She glimpsed the serving boy behind Ronica, and then relief engulfed her as she saw several Traders behind him. A few minutes ago, she would have been furious at him for presenting them unannounced. Now she was so pitifully grateful that tears stung her eyes.

“Restrain her!” she implored them. “She threatens me!”

Ronica swiveled her head to look back at the men. For their part, they seemed shocked into immobility. Ronica straightened slowly, turning her back on Serilla. Her voice was cold with courtesy as she greeted them by their names. “Trader Drur. Trader Conry. Trader Devouchet. I am glad to see you here. Perhaps now my questions will be answered.”

The expressions that passed over the Traders’ faces told Serilla that her situation had not improved. Shock and guilt were quickly masked with polite concern.

Only Trader Devouchet stared at her. “Ronica Vestrit?” he asked incredulously. “But I thought…” He turned to look at his companions but they had been swifter to compose themselves.

“Is there a problem here?” Trader Drur began but Conry overrode him with, “I fear we have intruded on a private conversation. We can return later.”

“Not at all,” Ronica answered gravely, as if they had addressed her. “Unless you think my survival is a problem to be solved by the Companion. The true problem here is one more fit to be resolved by the Traders’ Council than by a Satrap’s Companion. Gentlemen, as you obviously know, my family has been savagely attacked, and our reputation smeared to the point at which it endangers our lives. Trader Restart has been treacherously murdered, and so maligned after the fact that those who killed him claim they were justified. I am here to demand that the Council investigate this matter and render justice.”

Devouchet’s eyes grew stony. “Justice has already been done. Restart was a traitor. Everyone knows that.”

Ronica Vestrit’s face was impassive. “So I keep hearing. But no one has presented me with one shred of evidence.”

“Ronica, be reasonable,” Trader Drur rebuked her. “Bingtown is a shambles. We are in the midst of a civil war. The Council has no time to convene on private matters, it must…”

“Murder is not a private matter! The Council must answer the complaints of any Bingtown Trader. That was why the Council was formed, to see that regardless of wealth or poor fortune, justice was available to every Trader. That is what I demand. I believe Davad was killed and my family attacked on the basis of a rumor. That is not justice, that is murder and assault. Furthermore, while you believe that the culprit has been punished, I believe the true traitors go free. I don’t know what became of the Satrap. However, this woman seems to, by her own admission. I know he was taken by force that night. That scarcely seems to me that he ‘went into hiding, entrusting his power to her.’ It seems to me more likely that Bingtown has been dragged into a Jamaillian plot to unseat the Satrap, one that may smear all of us with blame. I have heard that she even wishes to treat with the Chalcedeans. What will she give them, gentlemen, to placate them? What does she have to give them, save what is Bingtown’s? She benefits in power and wealth by the Satrap’s absence. Have some Traders been tricked into kidnapping the Satrap, for this woman’s own ends? If such is the case, she has led them into treason. Is not that a matter for the Council to judge, if it will not consider Davad Restart’s murder? Or are all of those ‘private matters’?”