They came to the entrance of the harbour. This close the white facade of the sea walls was dazzling, but Rina noticed a few blackened scars, the relics of the war and banditry that blighted the age. The walls’ smooth surface looked like grow- stone: Northland engineering, probably, Etxelur growstone laid over an older core; everybody knew that Northlanders mixed the best growstone in the world, and much revenue had been earned for the country by hiring out its expertise for such projects. The harbour mouth, a break in the walls, was guarded by a gigantic chain of which only a few links showed above the surface, ready to be pulled up to block the way. The chain was fixed to elaborate structures on which stood lighthouses, tremendously tall, with polished mirrors like staring eyes.

The harbour, once they entered it, was huge, overwhelming, like an inland sea lined by wharfs and jetties and warehouses and enclosed by the towering walls. The ships on the water were dwarfed, toys in a pond. At the far end, a gap in the walls led to yet another harbour, perhaps even greater than this one, lined by a kind of circular terrace, two or three storeys tall, topped by shining red tiles.

‘That one beyond is the military harbour,’ Alxa murmured. ‘One of the wonders of the world. So the Carthaginians say.’

Barmocar’s flotilla pulled up at jetties on the left-hand side of the outer commercial harbour. Rina saw elements of design in the utilitarian architecture, a touch of style, a portico supported by slim columns that ran the entire length of the waterfront. As Barmocar’s boat reached a jetty an official approached, bearing a slate. He wore a long black robe and a mask over his mouth. Barmocar disembarked and greeted the official with a smile and a formalised embrace.

‘Plague,’ Rina said. ‘They’re worried about plague, even here.’

Alxa, hanging over the rail, struggled to hear what Barmocar was saying. ‘The man wants us to wait on the ships. We may have to stand off at sea. For seven days! That can’t be right.’

Nelo said, ‘They want to wait and see if we’re infected with anything. It’s sensible if you’re trying to protect a city.’

Another seven days on the ship! After the trials of the journey, that would finish her off, Rina thought.

But Barmocar and the man were smiling, and Rina saw Barmocar hand the official a small pouch of purple cloth.

Alxa raised her eyebrows at her mother. ‘Well, we won’t be held up.’

Rina smiled. ‘You’re getting terribly cynical for one so young.’

‘That’s stupid,’ Nelo said, visibly unhappy. ‘That man’s supposed to protect the city from disease! What use is he if he’s just going to let through anybody who waves a bit of money?’