“Then where would we sell our goods? All the richest trade is to the south, unless you want to deal with the northern barbarians.”

“That's another thing. The pirates. The old covenant said the Satrap would protect us from sea marauders. If we're making demands, we should tell him that-”

“We do need Jamaillia! What are we without Jamaillia? Jamaillia is poetry and art and music, Jamaillia is our mother culture. You can't cut off trade there and still-”

“And the serpents! The damn slavers draw the serpents, we should demand that slavers be outlawed from the Inside Passage-”

“We are an honorable folk. Even if the Satrap cannot recall how to keep his word, we are still bound by-”

“-will take our homes and lands and make slaves of us all. We'll be right back where our forebears were, exiles and criminals, with no hope of reprieve.”

“We should set up our own patrol ships, to start with. Not just to keep New Traders away from the mouth of the Rain Wild, but to hunt serpents and pirates as well. Yes, and to make clear to Chalced once and for all that the Rain Wild River is not their border, but that their control stops at Hover Inlet. They've been pushing-”

“You'd have us in two wars at once then, battling both Chalced and Jamaillia! That's stupid. Remember, were it not for Jamaillia and the Satrap, Chalced would have tried to overrun us years ago. That's what we risk if we cut ourselves free of Jamaillia. War with Chalced!”

“War? Who speaks of war? All we need to ask is that the Satrap Cosgo keep the promises that Satrap Esclepius made to us!”

Once more the hall erupted with a chorus of angry voices. Traders stood on their chairs, or shouted from where they stood. Malta couldn't make sense of any of it. She doubted anyone could. “Mother,” she whispered pleadingly. “I am dying of thirst! And it's so stuffy in here. Can I just go outside for a breath of air?”

“Not now!” her mother snapped.

“Malta, shut up,” her grandmother added. She didn't even look at her, she seemed to be trying to follow a conversation between two men three rows ahead of them.

“Please,” Jani Khuprus was calling from the stage. “Hear me, please! Please!” As the babble died down, she spoke more quietly, forcing folk to be silent to hear her. “This is our biggest danger. We quarrel among ourselves. We speak with many voices, and so the Satrap heeds none of them. We need a strong group of people to take our words to the Satrap, and we must be united and sincere in what we say. One strong voice he must heed, but as long as we tear at one another like ...”

“I have to use the back house,” Malta whispered. There. That was something they never argued with. Her grandmother gave a disapproving shake of her head, but they let her go. Davad Restart was so intent on what Jani Khuprus was saying he scarcely noticed her slip past him.

She stopped at the refreshment table to pour herself a glass of wine. She was not the only one to have left her seat. In different parts of the hall, knots of folk were forming and talking, all but ignoring the Rain Wild Trader. Some folk were arguing amongst themselves, others nodding in mutual agreement with her words. Almost everyone there was substantially older than she was. She looked for Cerwin Trell, but he was still seated with his family and appeared to be avidly interested in what was going on. Politics. Privately Malta believed that if everyone just ignored them, life would go on as it always had. The arguments would probably last the rest of the evening and spoil the party. She sighed and took her wine with her as she stepped outside into the crisp winter night.

It was full dark now. The footpath torches had burned down. Above the icy winter stars sparkled. She glanced up at them now and thought of flame jewels. The blues and the greens were the rarest. She couldn't wait to tell Delo that. She knew how she would say it, as if it were something she just assumed that everyone knew. Delo was the best for sharing such things with, because Delo was a hopeless gossip. She'd repeat it to everyone. Hadn't she spread word among all the girls about Malta's green gown? Of course, she had also told them about Davad Restart making Malta go home. She'd been an idiot to tell Delo the whole truth, but she'd been so mad, she just had to talk to someone. And tonight would make up for that embarrassment. She wouldn't tell Delo how bored she had been, only that she had stood outside and chatted with Jani Khuprus herself about flame jewels. She strolled down past the coaches, sipping at her wine. Some of the coachmen sat within the carriages, out of the cold, while others hunched on the boxes. Some few had gathered at the corner of the drive to gossip amongst themselves, and probably share a sip or two from a flask.