The High Counting House of the Merchant Guild of the Golden Anchor—for eighty years the undisputed financial castle of Crown-Reach, where foreign bankers and royal concessionaires had decided the price of bread and the fate of country harvests—was cleared of its armed guards and private court guards by the ninth hour of the morning. The tall, vaulted chamber of polished black marble and carved walnut wainscoting was stripped of its velvet curtains and private viewing boxes, its floor opened to the light streaming through the massive high window row windows.
Around the great half-round dark wood counting table, which had once seated the directors of private merchant syndicates, sat twelve elected commoner commissioners. Master Baker Kael with flour ingrained in the wrinkles around his eyes. Master Mason Gerrick in his stiff leather vest. Mistress Vana representing the mining families of the north. Two river watermen from the Delta. Four country agricultural delegates. And three elected ward burgesses. At the center of the table sat Chief Justice Lord Ronald and Hester Quill, their iron-bound registry portfolios spread open across the polished wood.
Tomas Reed stood at the high stone railing overlooking the hall, his ash-wood pack frame resting on the floor beside him. His woolen smock was worn at the elbows, but his stance was straight. His balance point perfectly was balanced over his boots. He reached down and adjusted the brass buckle on his left forearm. He felt the stiff calfskin wrist brace hold the scarred muscle tissue rigid against…
