The minister gave a long-suffering sigh. “How do you expect the Satrap to reimburse those he has hired to protect you?”

Althea had suspected that Tenira's outrage might be some sort of a bargaining ploy. Color rose so high in his face that she no longer doubted the sincerity of his anger as he asked, “You mean those Chalcedean scum, don't you? May Sa close my ears before I hear such idiocy! I won't pay for those pirates to anchor in Bingtown harbor.”

The guards were suddenly standing very close, right at Tomie Tenira's elbows. Althea in her role of ship's boy strove to look tough and follow her captain's lead. If Tenira threw a punch, she would be expected to jump in. Any ship's boy worth his scrap would do so, but it was a daunting prospect. She had never been in a real brawl before, other than that one brief dust-up with Brashen. She set her jaw and chose the younger of the two men as her mark.

It didn't come to that. Tenira suddenly dropped his voice and growled, “I'll be presenting this to the Traders Council.”

“As you see fit, sir, I'm sure,” the minister purred. Althea thought him a fool. A wiser man would have known better than to bait Tomie Tenira. She half expected the captain to strike him. Instead, he smiled a very narrow smile.

“As I see fit,” he rejoined smoothly. With a curt gesture to Althea to follow him, they left the tariff office. He spoke not a word to her until they were back aboard the ship. Then he sent her to “Fetch the mate, and smartly now. Have him come to my cabin.” Althea obeyed him promptly.

When they were sequestered in the captain's cabin, Tenira himself poured three jots of rum for them. He didn't pause to consider propriety, nor did Althea as she drank it off. The scene in the tariff office had chilled her worse than a cold night on deck. “It's bad,” was Tenira's first greeting to his son. “Worse than I'd feared. Not only are the Chalcedeans tied up here, but the Traders Council hasn't even challenged it. Worse, the damn Satrap has tacked more duties and taxes on to our trade to pay them to be here!”

“You didn't pay them?” Grag asked incredulously.

“Of course not!” Tenira snorted. “Someone around here has to start standing up to this nonsense. It may be a bit rocky to be the first one, but I'll wager once we've set the example, others will follow. The minister says he's going to detain us here. Fine. While we're tied up here, we take up this much dock space. A few more like us, and he won't be able to process ships or tariffs. Grag, you'll have a quiet word with Ophelia. Sa help us all, but I plan to give her free rein and let her be as unpleasant and bitchy as only she knows how. Let the dock workers and passers-by deal with that.”

Althea found herself grinning. The small room was as charged as if a storm were brewing. It was a storm, she told herself, and one her father had seen gathering for years. Still, it humbled her to watch an old captain like Tenira announce that he would call the first bolt down on himself. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Go home. Take word to your mother of all you saw and heard. I didn't see the Vivacia in the harbor, but if she is in, I ask you to set aside your differences with your brother-in-law and try to make him see why we must all be together in our defiance. I'll be heading home myself in a bit. Grag, I'll be trusting the ship to you. At the first whiff of any sign of trouble, send Calco to me with a message. Althea?”

Althea weighed his words, then nodded slowly. As much as she hated the idea of a truce with Kyle, Captain Tenira was right. It was no time for the Bingtown Traders to be divided on anything.

The smile the Teniras gave her was worth it. “I suspected I could count on you, lass,” Captain Tenira said fondly.

Grag grinned at her. “And I knew I could.”

CHAPTER TEN - Homecoming

THE VESTRIT MANSION, LIKE THE HOMES OF THE OTHER BINGTOWN TRADers, was set in the cool and forested foothills that surrounded Bingtown itself. It was a brief carriage ride from the docks, or a comfortable walk on a pleasant day. Along the way, one could glimpse other elegant Trader homes set well back from the main road. She passed flowering hedges and drives lined with trees extravagantly green with spring growth. Ivy sprawled in a mantle over the Oswells' stone wall. Crisp yellow daffodils were showing their first blooms in clumps by their gate. The spring day was rich with birdcalls and the dappling shade of newly leafed trees and the scents of early flowers.

Never before had it seemed to be such a long walk.

Althea marched on as if going to her death.

She still wore her ship's-boy garb; it had seemed wisest to them all that she retain her disguise as she left the docks. She wondered how her mother and sister would react to it. Kyle was not home. Relief at that almost balanced her disappointment that Vivacia was not in the harbor. At least she did not have to worry about his extreme distaste. It was not quite a year since she had quarreled with her brother-in-law and then stormed out of their family home. She had learned so much since then that it seemed like a decade. She wanted to have her family recognize how she had grown. Instead, she feared they would see only her clothes and her oiled plait of hair and judge it all a childish masquerade of defiance. Her mother had always said she was headstrong; for years, her sister Keffria had believed her capable of disgracing the family name simply for her own pleasure. How could she go back to them now, dressed this way, and make them believe she had matured and was worthy to claim the captaincy of the family liveship? How would they greet her return? With anger or cold disdain?