Mara addressed the residents from the council steps at dusk. Behind her stood the city wardens, Talla, Ro, and the clinic storekeeper with one of the grain keys on a cord around her wrist. The gate remained open for people returning to their homes, but the road beyond it was quiet.
“The city will keep its own gate and its own grain keys,” Mara said. “We will decide for ourselves whether we enter the war. The clinic and relief carts may stay under the terms we agreed to. No one has authority to station troops inside unless we invite them.”
Some residents applauded. Others called out questions.
“Will the coalition defend the clinic road if we refuse membership?” a man asked.
Wei stepped forward so he could be heard. “We will honor the supply agreement and protect civilians from attack. We will not station troops in your city without invitation.”
“And if an army comes?” another resident asked.
“We’ll warn you and answer if you ask for help,” Wei said. “The decision about your walls remains yours.”
Yan liked the clear boundary, though he wished the city would join them openly. He understood why it would not. Mara had watched one command use the city’s stores and speak in its name. A new banner would not earn trust merely because it claimed a better cause.
