“Oh yes there is.” Iltani jerked her head at the fishmonger sitting next to Bikku. She wore a deep purple tunic, which was clean, expertly woven…and about my size.

“What?” the woman asked around her bite, eyeing us suspiciously.

Out of her pocket, Iltani produced a mina. “Give us your tunic. We’ll give you the tradesman cloak in return.”

The woman stuck up her pert nose. “Go to Alani. This is my favorite.” She swiveled on her stool, and before I could stop her, Iltani was out of a crouch and had the woman on her knees, one hand in her hair, the other pressing the dagger from her thigh into the woman’s throat.

“Well, you lost the opportunity for payment. Now you’re wagering with your life. Remove your tunic.”

“Take it! Take it!” the young woman screeched.

“Iltani! Let her go!” I glared at her.

Ungracefully, she dropped the woman to the ground. Just as the woman was opening her mouth to scream, I grabbed the mina from Iltani and thrust it into her hand. “For your silence. And”—I looked at Bikku—“we’re going to need your grapes.”

“For Lugal Uruku?” The woman’s round face was swollen in the heat. She had to be miserable in her condition.

Iltani’s eyes hardened into copper coins. “I don’t care if you’re with child,” she growled. “I will beat you senseless if you open that mouth of yours.”

“Iltani, stop it!”

She pointed the knife at me. “You may be an A-zu, but that doesn’t mean we always have to heal people, my friend.” She slowly slid the dagger under the woman’s nose. “I’ve killed before, and I’m not afraid to do it again.”

“You’ve never killed anyone, Iltani. Be quiet. Put the dagger down.”

Bikku blinked at me, unfazed by Iltani’s threats. “You’re an A-zu? I always wanted to be one of them.” She wiped a trickle of sweat from her temple. “No, what I meant was that if you were talking about that man pretending to rule, I can help you. You can have the grapes. Her tunic.” She pointed to her friend, who was sobbing on the ground. “That Uruku killed my husband, and he’s called a bridal gifting to happen in two days’ time. One of my friends is being gifted in the ceremony so her father doesn’t have to pay the dowry.”

Bridal giftings often happened west of us, in other cities, but not down here in the south. Young women were rounded up like cattle in the public square, usually the poor and those from noble families who had gotten to a certain age and were not receiving offers of marriage. The men of the city were given their choice of brides, wealthiest men choosing first. Neither a bride price nor a dowry had to be paid. I gritted my teeth for those poor young women sitting in a holding pen somewhere, some likely younger than Nanaea.

“And the scum Uruku is allowing this to happen.” The thought made my skin prickle with disgust.