by Kate Elliott
Brennan whistled.
“A fascinating struggle between fire, which many natural historians believe releases energy, and this sort of freezing or locking of energy that it might be said the cold mages do,” said Kehinde. “Where does the fire go when it flows into the cold mage?”
“We believe it disperses into the spirit world. The Coalition will fight by using the presence of cold mages to kill the combustion of Camjiata’s superior weaponry. The general will fight by using Drake to throw the backlash into the cold mages, because when cold mages are acting as catch-fires, they can’t kill combustion or work magic. Not to mention he will burn his enemy’s houses, goods, and camps, and generally terrify the population.”
Brennan considered a spoonful of porridge. “This is valuable information, Cat. If the mages nullify Camjiata’s superior weaponry, then without this fire magic, the general may lose. The Invictus Legion is already here, working in concert with Lord Marius. My spies tell me three more legions are on the march from Rome to join the Coalition.”
“Yes. Vai and the Four Moons mansa were sent to Senones to meet them. Camjiata’s skirmishers have been spotted near the city of Cena.”
“You are indeed an excellent spy, because I have not heard that news,” said Brennan appreciatively. “But it doesn’t change the fact that we can’t risk harming the general’s best weapon.”
“Drake is an unscrupulous criminal! He kills people by burning them alive!”
“So does war,” said Brennan. “So does revolution. So do the mage Houses and the princes with their unjust laws. Which deaths do you choose?”
“Justice can only ultimately be gained through law,” said Kehinde. “But to get the law, it seems we must have the war.”
“It seems wrong to me that people say terrible acts have to be tolerated because it serves our goals. If we can only win by allowing a man like James Drake to murder people indiscriminately and in such an awful way, then how are we different from the princely and mage Houses who rule by standing on the backs of those who serve them?”
Brennan offered me a courtly flourish. “Maestra, never believe the radical cause is without its own dilemmas and contradictions. We need Camjiata, and I believe he needs us.”
“What happens when he doesn’t need you any longer?” I demanded. “And what happens when Drake decides he no longer needs Camjiata? What do you think, Chartji?” I added, for all this time she had been listening with cocked head, picking at a bowl filled with nuts and sun-dried fruit but not popping more than one or two into her mouth.
She lifted her muzzle toward the courtyard of the feathered people. Because trolls went about their business during the day, the open expanse scattered with high tables and inclined perches lay mostly vacant. Only a few groups gossiped and negotiated in the corners, well away from each other.
The courtyard thereby provided an ample stage for the entrance of a man.
He wore a striking garment in the local style, quite different from his usual dash jackets. I was stunned by how extremely flattering it looked on what was, after all, an already well-formed figure. The unbuttoned front of the jacket was cut to the length of a waistcoat, displaying light-colored lawn trousers as well as a black waistcoat, while the back of the garment swept in two long tails to his knees. The black brocade of the fabric had a weave so tight that the cloth shone in the sunlight. To this muted ensemble he had added a neckerchief of the most shocking orange-and-gold fabric, simply tied, to give a splash of color.
He looked very very angry as he slapped gloves against a palm and scanned the courtyards. He had not yet seen us at our table in the shadow of the portico.
A curse rose from the kitchens as the stoves went out. Brennan slipped a hand under his coat as for a knife. Rory began to rise.
Chartji said, “Please sit down, Roderic. If fur flies, my brethren may grow heated.”
Bee said, “I shall take care of this.”
When he saw her emerge into the light, he strode to her as an arrow flies to its target.
“Andevai! I am overwhelmed with joy at seeing you safe and well after our long separation!”
“Where is she?” he demanded in a tone so grippingly arrogant that it took my breath away, and not in a pleasant way.
She bestowed an aggressive greeting kiss. “Now you are to say, ‘How lovely to see you, Beatrice, and indeed it relieves my mind to know that you and Roderic survived your adventures unscathed after we were so rudely and violently parted on the river.’ ”
“I must assume you came to Lutetia with Chartji in answer to my letter, and have concocted some scheme to rip Catherine from me.”
“To which I reply, ‘My thanks for your good wishes, Andevai. It was a frightful journey, not an adventurous one at all. I was cold and hungry and damp. After we sold the boat to the most unpleasantly contemptuous man I have ever had the misfortune to meet if I do not include you when you are in this unreasonable mood, we had perforce to walk for twenty days over the muddiest paths and in the worst continual sleet I have ever experienced…’ ”
He was staring at her with such an expression of imperiousness being torn to shreds by her sarcastically cheerful tone that Brennan choked down a laugh, and Kehinde shushed him.
“… and I sickened!” she said, finally releasing his elbows. “I suffered the most grievous fever and cough for a month! ‘Goodness, Beatrice,’ you are to say now. ‘How very glad I am that you survived this dreadful experience and took no lasting harm from these travails!’ ”
“Where is she?” he repeated. “I found the letter from Chartji hidden in the skull.”
I could not bear it any longer. I got up and walked out into the courtyard.
“So,” he said, without the least change of tone. “Gave you a single thought for me and my situation, Catherine? Did it not occur to you that the instant they discovered you gone they would send a messenger after us? Can you imagine how it looked for me in the company of the mansa”—his voice darkened and grew thick—“and his cursed nephew, and our exalted allies to be informed that my wife had absconded like a criminal? I had to turn tail like a dog and come riding back lest I be accused of being a conspirator! With the nephew to supervise my journey, no less! So the damage is done. Are you content now that you have made me look like a fool?”
My cheeks burned with the sting of humiliation.
Bee slapped him.
He took a step back, not in retreat but in surprise. Every troll in the courtyard slewed around to stare. Many shifted their weight forward, ready to lunge. He brushed at the outer corner of his right eye, where perhaps one of her nails had jabbed. A cold eddy of air swirled down over us.
“You will not speak to Cat that way! I don’t care if you are her husband or the emperor of Rome. You will not! If you could think past your monstrous self-regard for one moment, you would pause to ask yourself why a woman who adores you as much as she does—although her devotion to you quite defies explanation—would take flight in such a precipitous way.”
His lips pressed together, his hands clenched, and his chest actually thrust out as he assumed the stance of a belligerent man making ready to respond with every hoarded sharp scrap of anger.
Chartji glided past me and thrust out her taloned hand. “Well met, Andevai,” she said. “I came at your request, as you see.”
In the reflexive manner of a man who has had good manners drilled into him since childhood, he shook hands. Hers tightened over his, holding him so he could not let go. The cold air eased as if cut off.
She said, “Not here. It would be unwise. My brethren are accustomed to rat behavior, but some of these are young and not yet fully in control of their impulses. Rather—I might add in the capacity of your solicitor—like you, Magister.”
His eyes flared. He jerked his hand out of her grip. The watching trolls stiffened, and even Chartji gave an aggressive bob of the head. Rory trotted out into the sun, unbuttoning his jacket, lips curled back.
“Kehinde,
don’t go out there,” said Brennan, but she did, walking out into the sun with Brennan following right behind her to face Vai.
“Here is my answer, all of you ranged against me!” For once his undoubted beauty could not smooth away the distasteful contours of his conceit. “You have chosen your place then, Catherine! And I mine!”
He strode off toward the archway that led from the trolls’ courtyard to the street beyond.
Goaded by a stab of pain both hot and desperate, I shouted after him. “Now we see what manner of man you have decided to become! Just like the ones who tormented you!”
He staggered to a halt in the shadow of the arched passage, catching himself with a fist on the wall. For a long, drawn-out silence no one moved, not him, not us, not the trolls.
Then, as if shaking awake from slumber, Andevai Diarisso Haranwy walked out to the street, out of my sight.
37
My heart plummeted out of my body. I groped for and leaned on Bee.
“Come sit down.” Bee supported me back to the table. “You’re shaking.”
I was too numb for tears. Bee’s arm did not comfort me.
Kehinde sat on my other side. She spoke in a low voice. “Cat, you need not honor a contract sealed without your consent. The same was done to me when I was but fifteen.”
Brennan sat opposite, mouth twisted all awry. Chartji whistled softly. Rory still stood out in the courtyard, looking toward the archway.
The cold mage reappeared carrying the laced-up basket with the skull, as well as a leather bag. He crossed the courtyard as the watching trolls went back to their conversations. The light drenching his figure turned to shade as he came in under the portico. He set basket and bag on the table, then backed away to stand with arms crossed, staring into the distance. Bee simmered, looking ready to leap up and slap him again. Brennan studied him with a frown, while Kehinde pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose and watched me. Chartji waited beside the table. A few people moved past, staring at his expensive clothes and grim expression. He ignored everyone, yet I knew he was acutely aware of all of us. I was astonished he exposed himself to their censure.
He shifted, and we all started. Upon opening his mouth to speak, he closed it again.
After a moment he bowed his head and drew thumb and finger down the bridge of his nose. Finally he looked up. The tilt of his head and the rigid squareness of his shoulders revealed how hard he struggled to dig for words.
He let out a breath. “Might there be a private room where Catherine and I could talk?”
My cheeks were hot and my hands were cold, for I had not recovered from seeing him walk away, nor did I like the look of him bringing along the basket as if he meant to be rid of all reminders and encumbrances of me.
To my surprise Kehinde rose. Hers was not a large or boisterous figure, but when she wanted to, she commanded any space she was in. She bent her gaze on him, and because she was a woman older than he was, he listened, lifting his chin as if he knew he was about to take a hit.
“I do not know you, Magister. But if it were up to me, I would tell Cat she is well rid of a man who speaks to her in such a contemptuous way. Was it imprudent and disruptive of her to leave the mage House so precipitously? Perhaps. But I am thinking you would be better served to discover why you did not pay more attention to her grievances before it came to this.”
His expression darkened with an angry flush, but to my astonishment he took in and released several ragged breaths without any hammer of magic. With an effort he spoke again, clipped and impatient. “What must I do to be allowed to have a few private words with my wife?”
Kehinde indicated the table. “While I consider, perhaps you would like something to eat or drink.”
Vai clenched his hands to fists, sucked in air, and let it out. He moved to circle the table so he could sit by me, but Rory stepped in his path. The two men sized each other up. Rory smiled in a friendly but implacable way. Vai took in and released more harsh breaths as a curl of icy breeze tickled the air. At length he sat next to Brennan, and Rory settled in on his other side, boxing him in.
A server brought ale, bread, butter, and cheese. Everyone except Vai and me ate and drank. His tight jaw gave his mouth a sneer, but I knew he was battling embarrassment and feelings of humiliation, for he was certainly conscious of how badly he appeared. I could scarcely bear to look at him, for my emotions surged and ebbed and boiled in a bewildering confluence. Every time I did glance at him, it was to find him staring at me… glaring at me… beseeching me… I simply could no longer tell, and perhaps he did not quite know either.
Finally I could bear it no longer. I buttered a hank of bread and held it out. “Gracious Melqart, Vai! Could you please eat something!”
He rocked backward almost off the bench. But when the others looked at him, he took the bread and ate it and, after that, downed a mug of ale and then ate from a bowl of porridge that Rory insisted he share.
After this agony of a silent meal Kehinde rose. “I have a meeting to attend this afternoon. Magister, perhaps you would be so good as to accompany me and my companions. You might find our radical perambulations of interest. I must warn you that it would be best for you to make no use of cold magic, not in the neighborhood we are going to. But your fashionable clothes will make a suitably stylish impression. If you do not wish to accompany me, you are free to leave.”
“Catherine,” he began hoarsely.
Brennan tucked a hand under Vai’s elbow. “Magister, I think you need to listen to what Professora Nayo Kuti is saying.”
“Is Catherine going with you?”
Bee grabbed my braid to let me know she would yank my head off if I said anything, for apparently I was not to be allowed to go. No doubt they feared Andevai would lure me into an out-of-the-way corner and melt me with kisses, but I was made of sterner stuff than that!
Kehinde indicated the others. “Brennan and Bee will accompany me. Chartji as well. That will give you an opportunity to discuss your business with your solicitor, will it not?”
For the space of five full breaths he stared at me, willing me to speak. Under the table Bee pressed a foot down on top of mine. Trapped between her hand and her foot, I said nothing.
He shook his head as if shaking off drops of rain. “Very well. If that is what is required. There are some lads out on the street watching my horse. Shall I stable it here, or take it along?”
After it was agreed he ought to stable it, he went to make the arrangements. Rory and I carried the basket and leather bag up to the room.
Rory said, “They mean to leave me here so you won’t be alone, Cat, but I know how to handle Vai better than the others do. If you don’t mind, I’ll go with them.”
“Maybe if we had handled him less and kicked him more, he might not so easily fall back into his unpleasant old habits.”
“I don’t know,” mused Rory, “for I am sure he stopped himself from saying at least eleven cutting and cruel things just now. That he sat there and let them dictate to him shows he is listening, however little it may seem to someone who does not know him.”
“How do you know people so well, Rory?”
He smiled. “People are easy to know. Human-people are emotional and hierarchical. Feathered-people are inquisitive and acquisitive.”
I rested my head in my hands. “What are our kind of people?”
“I just enjoy being here.” He patted my shoulder. “As for you, Cat, you are always struggling with all the different parts of you. You have your mother’s loyalty and strength, and your stepfather’s bold curiosity and love of stories. You have our sire’s instincts, which is why you like to hunt and fight and be petted, but it’s also why Vai can melt you with kisses when you really ought to be pushing him back a step so he can stop and think. I expect that in the mage House, the more he sensed you were uncomfortable and displeased with a situation he was increasingly attracted by—being heir—the more he exerted himself to please you in other ways.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right!” He kissed my forehead.
Left alone, I apologized to the cacica as I lifted the skull out of the basket and made an offering of the last of the ale, when she ought to have been offered the first. The leather bag disgorged my wonderful riding clothes and boots, a sewing kit Vai had obviously obtained knowing I would want it, and my toiletries. The sight of these items wearied me beyond measure because they forced me to contemplate a life without Andevai. I lay down on the bed and promptly dozed off. Voices frayed in my dreams, only to dissolve into a remarkably erotic dream that woke me sweating.
The room was dim. Beyond, the tavern buzzed at full pitch. Knowing there were trolls about, I left my sword tucked under the mattress. I wrapped myself in shadows and crept downstairs. Twilight danced into evening. Lamps burned everywhere. I spotted Vai and the others as they walked in and washed up at the altar set out for ablutions and offerings. They settled at a table set up in an alcove at the far side of the trolls’ courtyard, tucked next to the archway that led out to the street and thus as far from the kitchens as possible. A lamp set at Chartji’s left arm lit the table. Something about trolls throttled Vai’s cold magic around them, just as dragons had.
Vai had his back to me, so he did not see me pad up behind them. Such breeze as there was blew into my face, so Rory, sitting beside Vai, could not smell me. Vai was laughing at something Rory had just said. His sociable demeanor made him seem another man, the one I had gotten to know in Expedition, the one whose embraces I cherished, the one I loved.
“Show me the ice lenses again,” said Kehinde with a pleasant smile she had certainly not displayed earlier. “I’m amazed Chartji brought them all the way from Havery packed in straw and moss and they did not melt.”
He fished out three leather cords and pulled one off over his head, handing it to Kehinde. “This one is likely flawed, but the other two should work.”