‘“Good Northlander scrip.” Hmm. You know, since I settled here I’ve come to feel that we were always rather cut off from the flow of events up in Northland. Buried in our great big old Wall. We tend to think that the rest of the world can fall apart and it won’t affect us, don’t we? Rina, Northlander currency isn’t worth the metal it’s stamped from these days. After all, what’s it backed by? As soon as the cold started cutting the trading links, for the average Carthaginian, Northland has become – nothing. A fantasy country as remote as the moon.’

‘But you are prospering.’

‘I was lucky, or we had foresight. We saw that times were becoming hard, the years of flood in the north, the drought in the south. This was even before the cold came, you understand. We thought that Carthage, so much further south, at the centre of the world, would be more – secure. We thought ahead, Rina. As you did. It’s just that we made our judgements a little earlier.

‘We built up a business down here. I handle the import of certain kinds of soft fruit from across Greater Carthage into the city itself. Good sound trade. And we managed to convert most of our Northland currency into the local scrip, just before the crash came.’ He opened his hands to her. ‘Do you have any other assets with you? Land titles, other currencies—’

‘Nothing but holdings back home. In Northland.’

‘Which are worth nothing here, I’m afraid. Not even as guarantors of credit.’

‘No wonder that crook Barmocar asked for payment of the kind he did.’ And she told him about the Virgin’s bones.

He laughed, as if delighted at the man’s ingenuity. ‘No wonder indeed. The rascal! But let me give you some advice. I wouldn’t make an enemy of Barmocar – not if you can help it. He’s a pretty influential man here. And, let’s face it, he’s the only member of the Tribunal of One Hundred and Four that you know. If I were you, I would cultivate that. So what will you do?’

She was astonished at the question, and dismayed. I hoped to find myself under your protection and guidance. ‘I can work,’ she said stiffly. ‘I was an Annid. I have skills in direction, decisionmaking. Perhaps I could work as an adviser to the Council of Elders, or—’

He waved that away. ‘Forget it. The Carthaginians loathe us Northlanders. Ingrained after centuries of our manipulating their destiny – that’s the way they see it.’

‘The role of Northland has always been to bring peace and collaboration between disparate peoples—’