Free Ship of Destiny by Hobb Robin

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’?”
    Serilla’s mouth had gone dry. The three men exchanged uncertain glances. They were being swayed by this madwoman’s words. They would turn on her! Behind them, the serving boy lingered near the door, listening curiously. There was movement in the passage beyond him, and then Roed Caern and Krion Trentor entered the room. Tall and lean, Roed towered over his shorter, softer companion. Roed had bound his long black hair back in a tail as if he were a barbarian warrior. His dark eyes had always held a feral glint; now they shone with a predator’s lust. He stared at Ronica. Despite the uneasiness the young Trader always roused in her, Serilla felt a sudden wash of relief at his appearance. He, at least, would side with her.
    “I heard the name of Davad Restart,” Roed observed harshly. “If anyone has a dispute with how he ended, they should speak to me.” His eyes challenged Ronica.
    Ronica drew herself up and advanced on him fearlessly. She was scarcely as tall as his shoulder. She looked up to meet his eyes as she demanded, “Trader’s son, do you admit the blood of a Trader is on your hands?”
    One of the older Traders gasped, and Roed looked startled for an instant. Krion licked his lips nervously. Then, “Restart was a traitor!” Roed declared.
    “Prove it to me!” Ronica exploded. “Prove it to me, and I’ll keep my peace, though I should not. Traitor or not, what was done to Davad was murder, not justice. But more importantly, gentlemen, I suggest you prove it to yourselves. Davad Restart is not the traitor who planned the abduction of a Satrap. He had no need to abduct a man who was guesting in his home! In believing that Davad was a traitor, and that you have destroyed a plot by killing him, you cripple yourself. Whoever is behind your plot, if there ever was a plot, is still alive and free to do mischief. Perhaps you were manipulated into doing exactly what you say you feared: kidnapping the Satrap, to bring the wrath of Jamaillia down on Bingtown?” She struggled, then forced calm into her voice. “I know Davad was not a traitor. But he may have been a dupe. A sly man like Davad could become the victim of someone slyer still. I suggest you go through Davad’s papers carefully, and ask yourself, who was using him? Ask yourself the question that underlies every Trader’s actions. Who profited?”
    Ronica Vestrit met the eyes of each man in turn. “Recall all you knew of Davad. Did he ever strike a bargain in which his profit was not certain? Did he ever place himself in physical danger? He was a social blunderer, a man close to being a pariah to both Old Traders and New. Is that the man with the charisma and expertise to engineer a plot against the most powerful man in the world?” She jerked her head disdainfully in Serilla’s direction. “Ask the Companion who fed her the information that led to her assumptions. Match those names against those bargaining through Davad, and you may have a starting place for your suspicions. When you have answers, you can find me at my home. Unless, of course, Trader Caern’s son thinks