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‘Nothing. We owe her nothing!’ one man bellowed angrily, while another made heard his comment, ‘Trader Tenira’s son has already struck our deal.

Grag told her that if she drove the Chalcedeans away, we would help her with a task she named.

That seems fair enough. Does a Bingtown Trader go back on his word, even to a dragon? ’

‘We should prepare offerings for it. The dragon has liberated us. We should offer thanksgiving to Sa for sending us this champion!’

‘I’m not a Trader! Neither is my brother, and we won’t be bound by another man’s word!’

‘Kill it. All the legends of dragons warn of their treachery and cruelty. We should be readying our defences, not standing about talking.’

‘Quiet!’ Mingsley roared, stepping forwards to stand at Devouchet’s shoulder.

He was a stout man, but the power of his voice still surprised Ronica.

As he looked about over the crowd, the whites showed all around his eyes.

The man, Ronica realized, was deeply frightened.

‘We have no time for squabbling. We must move swiftly to an accord. When the dragon returns, we must meet her as a united folk. Resistance would be a mistake. You saw what she did to those ships and men. We must placate her, if we hope to avoid the same fate.’

‘Perhaps some here deserve the same fate as the Chalcedeans,’ Roed Caern observed callously.

He pushed forwards to stand threateningly close to the stout merchant.

Mingsley stepped back from him as Roed turned to the crowd.

‘I heard it spoken clearly, earlier. A Trader has already struck an accord with the dragon. The dragon is ours! She belongs to the Bingtown Traders. We should honour our bargain, Bingtown Traders, without recourse to any of the foreigners who have sought to claim our town as their own. With the dragon on our side, Bingtown can not only drive the dirty Chalcedeans back to their own land, we can force out the New Traders and their thieving slaves with them. We have all heard the news. The Satrap is dead. We cannot rely on Jamaillia to aid us. Bingtown Traders, look around you. We stand in our ruined hall in a ravaged town. How have we come to this pass? By tolerating the greedy New Traders in our midst, folk who came here in violation of our Charter, to plunder our land and beggar us!’ A sneer of hatred curled his lip as he stared at Mingsley.

With narrowed eyes, he suggested, ‘How can we pay our dragon? With meat. Let the dragon rid us of all outsiders.’

What happened next shocked everyone. Even as the mutter of outrage at his words became a roar, Companion Serilla stepped forwards resolutely.

As Roed turned, surprised, she set her small hand to the centre of his chest. Baring her teeth in sudden effort, she shoved him backwards off the dais.

The fall was a short one; it would have been an easy jump if he had been prepared, but he was not.

He went over with a yell, arms flailing.

Ronica heard the sharp crack of his head against the floor, and then his howl of pain.

Men closed in around him. There was a brief flurry of struggle.

‘Stand clear of him!’ Serilla shouted, and for one confusing instant, Ronica thought she defended the man.

‘Disperse, or share his fate!’ Like trickling water vanishing in sand, those few who had attempted to help Roed fell back and merged suddenly into the crowd.

Roed alone remained, held immobile by his captors, one arm twisted up behind him.

He gritted his teeth against the pain, but managed to spit a curse at Serilla.

Traders, both Old and New, were the ones who held him.

At a nod from Serilla, they wrestled him away from the gathering.

Ronica wondered, as she watched him taken away, what they would do with him.

Companion Serilla suddenly flung her head up and looked out over the crowd. For the first time, Ronica saw the woman’s face alight as if a true spirit resided in her. She did not even look after the man she had overthrown. She stood, whole and temporarily in command.

‘We cannot tolerate Roed Caern, or those who think like him,’ she declared loudly.

‘He seeks to sow discord when what we need is unity. He speaks against the authority of the Satrapy, as if it perished with Satrap Cosgo. You know it has not! Heed me, folk of Bingtown. Whether or not the Satrap is alive does not matter at this time. What does matter is that he left me in authority, to take on the weight of his rule if he should perish. I shall not fail him, nor his subjects. Whatever else you may be, one and all, you are subjects of the Satrap, and the Satrapy rules you. In that, at least, you can be equal and united.’ She paused and let her gaze travel over the others who shared the dais with her.

‘None of you are needed here. I am capable of speaking for all of you. Moreover, whatever treaty I work out with the dragon will bind all of you equally. Is not that best? To let someone with no personal ties to Bingtown speak for all of you, impersonally?’

She almost succeeded. After Roed, she sounded reasonable.

Ronica Vestrit watched folk exchanging glances.

Then Dujia spoke from the other end of the dais.

‘I speak for the Tattooed when I say that we have had enough of the “equality” the Satrap bestowed upon us. Now we will make our own equality, as residents of Bingtown, not Jamaillian subjects. We will have a voice in what is promised to this dragon. For too long, others have disposed of our labour and our lives. We can tolerate it no longer.’

‘I feared this,’ Mingsley broke in. He pointed a shaking finger at the tattooed woman.

‘You slaves will spoil everything. You care only for revenge. No doubt you will do all in your power to defy the dragon, for the sake of bringing her wrath down on your masters. But when all is done, even if all your New Trader masters die, you will be the same folk you are today. You are not fit to govern yourselves. You have forgotten what it is to be responsible. The proof of it is in how you have behaved since you betrayed your rightful masters and abandoned their discipline. You have reverted to what you were before your masters took control of you. Look at yourself, Dujia. You became a thief first, and a slave afterwards. You deserved your fate. You chose your life. You should have accepted it. But master after master found you a thief and a liar, until the map of those you have served stretches across your face to your neck. You should not even be up here, asserting the right to speak. Good people of Bingtown, the slaves are not a separate folk, save that they are marked for their crimes. As well give the whores a right to speak in this, or the pickpockets. Let us listen to Serilla. We are all Jamaillian, Old Trader and New, and all should be content to be bound by the Satrap’s word.

I speak for the New Traders when I say I accept Companion Serilla to negotiate for us with the dragon. ’

Serilla stood straight and tall. She smiled, and it seemed genuine.

She looked past Mingsley to include Dujia in the smile.

‘As the Satrap’s representative, of course I shall negotiate for you.

For all of you. New Trader Mingsley has not well considered his words.

Has he forgotten that some in Bingtown now wear the tattoos of slavery, when their only crime was to be captured by the Chalcedeans?

For Bingtown to survive and prosper, it must go back to its oldest roots.

By its charter, it was a place where ambitious outcasts could forge new homes and lives for themselves.

’ She gave a small, disarming laugh. ‘Left here to wield the Satrap’s power, I, too, am an exile of sorts.

Never again will I return to Jamaillia. Like you, I must become a citizen of Bingtown, and build a new life for myself here.

Look at me. Consider that I embody all that Bingtown is.

Come,’ she urged them softly. She looked all around at the crowd.

‘Accept me. Let me speak for all of you, and bind us into one accord.’

Jani Khuprus shook her head regretfully as she stepped forwards to claim the right to speak.

‘There are those of us who are not content to be bound by the Satrap’s word, or any man’s word, save our own.

I speak for the Rain Wilds. What has Jamaillia ever done for us, save restrict our trade and steal half our profits?

No, Companion Serilla. You are no companion of mine.

Bind Jamaillia as you will, but the Rain Wilds will bear that yoke no more.

We know more of this dragon than you do.

We will not let you bargain our lives away to placate her.

My people have said that I speak for them, and I shall.

I have no right to let their voices be muffled in yours.

’ Jani glanced down to exchange a look with Reyn.

Ronica sensed that Jani and Reyn had prepared for this moment.