Moreover, no document anywhere says that we must tolerate murdering, thieving Chalcedean mercenaries in our harbors.' Tomie Tenira's voice had begun to shake with fury. He strangled into silence, trying to regain control of himself.
Davad Restart came to his feet. Althea felt ill.
'Council members, all Jamaillian merchants pay tariff to the Satrap. Why should we be any different? Is he not our good and just ruler? Do not we owe him support to maintain the reign that benefits all of us? These tariffs go to maintain the docks and facilities in Jamaillia City, as well as to pay for those who patrol the Inside Passage against piracy. The very qualities Trader Tenira disparages in the Chalcedeans are those that make them excellent defenders against piracy. If he does not care for their services, then perhaps he should…'
'The Chalcedean 'patrol ships' are no more than pirates themselves! They stop legitimate ships, with no other intent than extortion. All here know how my liveship Ophelia was injured defending herself from such an unwarranted intrusion. Bingtown ships have never willingly submitted to being boarded by foreigners. Are you suggesting we accept it now? The tariffs began simply, as reasonable fees. Now they are so complicated to figure that we must accept the word of a hired scribe as to what we owe. The tariffs have one purpose only: to make it unprofitable for us to trade anywhere except Jamaillia City. They steal our profits to bind us more tightly to their purse strings. Anyone who has tied up in Jamaillia recently can testify that the charges we are paying are not going for dock maintenance there. I doubt if anything has been spent on those docks in the last three years.'
A general rumble of agreement, with some laughter, followed his last statement. 'My ship's boy damn near fell through the last one we tied up to,' someone in the back called out.
Daw stood again quickly, inserting his words into the pause. 'Council members, I suggest you adjourn to see if you should even be hearing this matter before you accept any more testimony about it.' He glanced about. 'Evening draws close to night. Perhaps we should save this matter for a later meeting.'
'We are well within our purpose in hearing this, I believe,' the head of the Council replied, only to have two lesser members immediately shake their heads in denial. This necessitated another withdrawal to the private room.
This time the room was less patient and social while they were gone. Folk got up and milled about. Trader Larfa of the liveship Winsome came to stand before Tomie Tenira. He did not lower his voice as he announced, 'Count on me, Tomie. No matter how it goes here. If you want, give the word now. Me and my sons will be with you, and we'll go right now and untie your ship from that damned tariff dock.' Two tall young men behind him nodded soberly to their father's offer.
'You wouldn't be alone,' offered another man, one Althea didn't recognize. Like Trader Larfa, he was flanked by his sons.
'Let us hope it doesn't come to that,' Tomie said quietly. 'I would like this to be something Bingtown acts on, not the Tenira family alone.'
At that moment, a shouting match broke out elsewhere in the room. Althea half stood and craned her neck. She could see little, due to others standing up between her and the dispute, but it seemed to center where Traders Daw and Restart had been seated. 'You liar!' someone accused. 'You did and you know you did. Without you, the damn New Traders would never have become so deeply entrenched here.' Another voice muttered a bland denial. The Council's order keepers were already moving to quell the disturbance. Althea felt her nails bite into her palms. The room was on the edge of breaking into violence, Trader against Trader.
'This serves no one!' she heard herself announce bitterly. By chance, her voice had sounded in a lull in the noise. Heads turned toward her. Even Grag and Tomie Tenira were looking at her in astonishment. She took a breath. If she waited, the Council might well adjourn for the night. Precious time would be lost. This might be her only chance to speak. 'Look at us! We squabble like children, Trader against Trader. Ask yourself who wins that battle? We need to find agreement here. We need to speak of the larger matter that confronts us. What is Bingtown becoming? Are we going to bow our heads to the Satrap's rules, accept his tariffs and restrictions, no matter how heavy they become? Will we tolerate his hirelings tying up in our harbor? Will we pay to feed and outfit them, so they can stop our ships and fleece them before they reach port? Why?'
Every eye in the room had turned to her. Some people were resuming their seats, willing to hear what she had to say. She glanced down at a seated Grag. He gave her a nod of encouragement. She felt his mother reach up and take her hand. She gave it a squeeze before releasing it. Althea felt heady with power. 'My father told me, two years ago, that it would come to this. I am not the Trader he was, but I do not hesitate to repeat his wisdom. A time will come when Bingtown must stand on its own, and determine its own future. That is what he told me. I think that time is now.'
She looked around the room. Keffria, hand over her mouth, stared at her in horror. Davad's face was as red as a turkey's wattle. Some women looked scandalized that one of their sex should speak out so in public. But other Traders nodded, or looked seized by her words. She drew another shuddering breath. 'There is too much we can no longer tolerate. These so-called New Traders usurp our lands. They know nothing of our ancient sacrifices, nothing of our blood bonds with the Rain Wild Traders. They mock our laws with their tattooed slaves. The Satrap is no longer content with half our profits. He will take all we have bought with blood and sell it for coin to his new friends, be they New Traders or Chalcedean privateers!'
'You're talking rebellion!' someone in the back of the room accused.
Something inside her turned over. Step forward and admit it, she counseled herself. 'Yes. I am,' she said calmly.
She was unprepared for the hubbub that broke out at her words. From the corner of her eye, she became aware of the order keepers closing in on her. She also became aware that they were having a difficult time reaching her through the assembly. Folk were not stepping aside. Legs were thrust out, or benches shoved in their paths. Nevertheless, the order keepers would reach her soon and eject her. She had but a few more moments.
'My father's ship!' Her voice rang out over the noise. The room quieted somewhat. 'The Vivacia, a liveship of Rain Wild make, has been taken by pirates. I know that some of you have heard the rumors. I stand to tell you it is the truth. The unthinkable has happened. Pirates have taken a Bingtown liveship. Do you think the Satrap's Chalcedean mercenaries will help me recover her? If by chance she does fall into their hands, do you think they will respect a Bingtown claim to her? She will be taken to Jamaillia City, as if she were plunder, and kept there. Think but a moment of the Rain Wild River, and you know what that would mean! I need your help. Bingtown, please, I beg you, stand firm with me. I need money and a ship to go after my birthright.'
She had not meant to say those words. Her mother gave her a stricken glance of disbelief. Her thought was plain. Althea was making a public claim on the ship as her own. She had meant to speak for her family, but her heart had chosen the words.
'The Vestrit family brought that on themselves!' someone shouted. 'They let their family ship sail with a foreigner as captain. Shame on them! She talks a good wind, she does, but whom did she ride in with? Davad Restart and, gentlemen, we all know where he stands. Her wild talk is a New Trader trap. If we rise in defiance of the Satrap, we cannot expect him to be fair with us. We need to reason with the Satrap, not set ourselves up against him.' Some were nodding and muttering agreement.
'Why don't the damn Chalcedean patrol boats go out to rescue the Vivacia? Isn't that what all the new tariffs are about, paying them to run off the pirates? Why don't they get out there and show us what our money bought?'
'She talks against Chalcedeans, but her own sister married one!' someone else sneered.
'Kyle Haven can't help his blood. He's a good captain!' someone defended him.
'Ephron Vestrit left his ship in that foreigner's hands,' another added. 'He lost it. That's a Vestrit problem, not a Bingtown crisis. If they want the ship back, let them pay ransom on it.'
Althea stood on tiptoe, craning to identify the speaker. 'Trader Froe,' Grag told her in a low hiss. 'Never stood up for anything in his life. Pinches his coins so tight, they come away with his fingerprints on them.'
As if he had heard the words, Froe asserted, 'I'm not giving her one copper shard of mine. They shamed their ship, and Sa took it from them. I heard she was being used as a slaver… any liveship worth her salt would rather turn pirate than that!'
'You can't mean that!' Althea was outraged. 'You can't dismiss her like that. There is a boy on that ship, my nephew. However you regard his father, you cannot deny he is Trader stock. The ship herself is Bingtown-'
Beside her, Grag stepped to block one order keeper, but another stepped past him to seize Althea's arm. 'Out!' he told her firmly. 'The Council is recessed. No one is to speak right now. You do not even have the Council's
