17
AMONGST THE ARGUING and shouting, a man walked down from the higher tiers of seating. Only when he came into the light did I recognise him: it was the Barresh councillor Ramadu, whose daughter had been the subject of Reida’s interest and who—I’d forgotten about that—attended gamra meetings on behalf of the Barresh Council to coordinate logistical operations.
He reached the bottom of the stairs, spoke to the guards who stopped him there and they let him through. He came up to the dais and bowed to me. “If I may, Delegate.”
I stepped down and he went up to the microphone. “Delegates.” His deep voice echoed through the hall. “I would like to confirm what Delegate Wilson says. A few days ago, Trader Delegate Federza came to us. He said that he feared for his life and was expecting attack
