Baru couldn’t decide. She wanted to scream, to rage and howl, to grip her ribs and tear them wide open so the torment would slump out of her and pool like intestines on the flagstone. She wanted these calculations out of her head forever. Like a ship’s mainmast she was only kept from toppling by the two powerful tensions pulling her to each side.

Ormsment waited with her hand on her sword. The crowd was utterly rapt.

And then Baru felt relief. Hideous warm relief, soiled, pathetic, like pissing herself. At last it was over, and there would be no more loss. She could give up. She could close her accounts. If she fought and died here she would never have to spend a life again—

“Baru.”

Tau-indi’s breath warmed her cheek. The little laman had to pull themselves up on their tiptoes by Baru’s soldier to whisper in her ear. “Baru, breathe. Listen. We got out of Cheetah together, didn’t we? We were locked into a dying ship and trim saved us.”

“I saved us,” Baru croaked.

“You did. Trim is nothing but people. Believe in that trim again, Baru. If you go into this duel to protect your parents, if you are truly and selflessly devoted to saving them—” Tau swallowed, and went on, with warm hope. “—I tell you that you cannot lose.”

“Trim isn’t real that way,” Baru whispered. “Trim won’t stop a sword.”

“People are real.”

“Will Osa stand for me? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No!” They laughed as they sighed. “Baru, you must face this yourself. Think of all you’ve achieved these past weeks—”

But what had she achieved, really? Compared to her time in Aurdwynn, where she had ruined currencies and ordered massacres and torn down an entire aristocracy? She’d thrashed and sweated in misery on Helbride. She’d upturned the Llosydanes like a cluttered breakfast table looking for the scent of Abdumasi Abd’s sponsors. She’d written letters for Ake and the Necessary King, and nabbed Tau off their sinking ship, and cringed from Tain Shir, and fled from a mutiny, and lost two fingers, and suffered a seizure, and hurt, hurt so terribly and so often …

She did not have the Cancrioth. She hadn’t reached Falcrest. She was no closer to liberating Taranoke. Her grand plan to pitch Falcrest into a war on two fronts was still embryonic.

“I’ve done nothing,” she said, flatly. “I’ve made nothing.”

“You’ve found people,” Tau whispered, with urgency, and trust, and a soft encouragement Baru knew she never deserved. “Yawa and Svir have come to know you, haven’t they? You’ve met me, and Osa, and Iraji, who you clearly care to protect. That lovely diver who was at your side when we met. And I know you want your parents safe. I know you care for them.”