At fifty-two, Venette was some nine years younger than Shari Frieden, but that never stopped her from standing her ground.

“If this is to be a unanimous decision, it won’t be reached with my vote if Manemli is not discarded.”

All eyes turned to Varen. He rubbed a finger across his age-pinched lips, in no hurry to offer an opinion. But at length he swept the table with his cool grey gaze.

“You bicker particulars while o’erleaping the first hurdle. The question before us is whether a second trade fair is desirable at all. Brantone will not want it.”

Morgan sat back. “I don’t support a second trade fair, but nor do I think we can bend our knee to Brantone. We must not be trammelled by our inferiors.”

Varen’s stare was dispassionate. “Brantone is a loyal friend to Dorana. It hosts the summer trade fair to our great advantage. A second fair would trammel them, Morgan.”

“My lord, we speak of Dorana’s sovereignty. Nothing is more important than that.”

Beneath the table, Venette pressed her foot to his in warning. In the five months since his elevation to the Council she had more than once slipped a steadying hand beneath his elbow. Such a shame she had no daughter to tempt him. Her bloodline was exemplary, but she’d failed to produce children.

“I fear you betray your greenness, Morgan,” said Varen, disapproving. “To be magickless is not to be without value entirely. For myself, I have no interest in pandering to the Iringans. They spend nowhere near enough at the summer trade fair for us to risk slighting Brantone. Let them prove with plentiful coin their great need of Doranen magework, and then we might consider another fair. Agreed?”

One by one the others nodded. But did they truly agree or did they only pander to Varen? Looking at their faces, Morgan couldn’t tell. But, mindful of his precarious position, reluctantly he nodded too.

“Excellent,” said Varen. “I shall so inform Chief Councillor Lady Brislyn.” He glanced at his notes. “She also made mention of trouble brewing between Manemli and Ranoush. It seems the dispute is seeded in our trade route, which travels to Ranoush first, by way of Brantone. Manemli is claiming we give preference to both Brantone and Ranoush, meaning they are left to pick over the leavings. This is making them openly resentful. A handful of our trader-mages have reported Manemlin hostility.”

Venette looked at Shari. “I told you Manemli was trouble.”

“Hostility, my lord?” Morgan frowned. “Do you mean bloodletting?”

“Between Manemli and Ranoush, yes,” said Varen. “Our traders have been jeered at, nothing more.”

Chilled with apprehension, he shifted in his chair. “Nothing more yet. But—”

“But?” Sallis laughed, scornful. “What’s wrong with you, Morgan? You can’t be suggesting any mage of Dorana is in peril from a Manemlin!”

“From anyone,” said Shari, just as scornful. “We are mages, Morgan. Inviolate.”

There was no use pursuing the matter. Even if he tried to explain his growing unease, a sense that some danger crept closer to Dorana, his fellow councillors would never believe him.