“These terms extend only to the question of which faction claims and transports Corundel from Cabiel,” Xu said, “and the circumstances of that transport. What happens outside the Thassalocracy is beyond the justiciary’s purview.”
Cristof signaled his agreement to those terms. Taya gave him a questioning look, and he repeated his signal.
“Ambassador Forlore, representing Ondinium’s Oporphyr Council, agrees to the Impeccable Judiciary’s terms for prisoner treatment and transport,” she relayed.
“Very good. And do both sides agree to the form of the challenge?”
“May we discuss it among ourselves?” Captain Fiore asked.
“Of course.”
Both groups huddled, looking suspiciously over their shoulders at each other.
“I don’t like it,” Taya said at once. “I thought this was supposed to be one-on-one combat, not ship-to-ship! The Firebrand is already damaged from its last fight with the Alzanans.”
“The repairs are going swiftly,” Lieutenant Imbrex said, “and we’ve had no trouble finding suitable fuel.”
“But they could destroy the ship! And even if they don’t, they could damage it even more. Why can’t we insist on single combat?”
“The justiciars are using my challenge as an excuse to see what our vessels are capable of,” Amcathra said, calmly. “They will undoubtedly use the information they glean from the duel to plan new defenses against airborne attack.”
“We should say no.”
“I would prefer to accept. Exalted?”
Cristof shifted, making sure his back was to the Alzanans, and tilted his mask up. “How’s our ammunition supply?”
“Satisfactory. Cabiel uses the same calibers as the continent.”
“What was that thing she mentioned— the serpentfire cannon?” Taya asked. “Do we have one of those?”
“Justiciar Xu,” Amcathra said, turning, “what is a serpentfire cannon?”
Captain Fiore’s mocking laugh rang through a suddenly hushed hall.
“It is one of our newest armaments,” Xu said, ignoring the Alzanan. “It fires a chemical-based projectile that ignites phlogisticated atmospheric aether. Depending on the missile’s size and load, the resulting firestorm may extend up to a half-mile radius from the point of ignition.”
“Lady save us…” Taya whispered. That kind of destruction would make the Glasgar bombing seem trivial. Cristof grabbed her arm, but she anticipated him, speaking at the same time as Amcathra. The lictor fell silent, letting her ask the question.
“Have the Alzanans purchased this weapon from Cabiel?”
“Yes.” Xu’s expression was pained.
“You have one of those things aboard your ship?” Taya turned to the Alzanan captain. He gave a broad, expressive shrug, a smile dancing around his lips. She looked at Mercate Corundel. “And you arranged it? You’re willing to see that kind of— of abomination used against your own country?”
“I didn’t ask to be born Ondinium,” Corundel said, coolly. “I’m quite happy to live in Alzana.”
Cristof took a step forward and Taya turned, grabbing his arm.
“Shh,” she whispered urgently. “Mind your caste!”
He snarled under his mask. She stepped closer.
“Please, Cris. You’re our ambassador. She’s not worth your dignity— please.”
He hissed something vulgar under his breath, then allowed her to turn him back to their group.
“Use of the serpentfire cannon is forbidden in this challenge,” Xu reminded Fiore. He gave her a sweeping Alzanan bow, complete with a crisp click of his heels.
“We understand, Justiciar,” he said formally. “We would not risk our friendship with Cabiel by violating its rules of engagement.”
“I suggest that all prohibited weapons be left on shore during the challenge,” Taya countered. “That way we can ensure that the rules are followed.”
The captain smirked. “Don’t worry, little pigeon. The cannons are packed in our hold. We will not incinerate your ship tomorrow. But we will incinerate your capital soon.”
Taya turned away, her heart sinking.
“Justiciar Xu,” Captain Fiore continued, “although we will attempt to leave our enemy’s ship crippled but intact, if your justiciar should happen to be injured in the fighting, what will happen to us?”
“The Impeccable Justiciary forbids the destruction of the other ship,” Xu said, slowly, “but both observers are volunteers. They understand that ship-to-ship combat is unpredictable and that death is a possible consequence of their choice. If a justiciar dies accidentally, no member of the justiciary or of the justiciar’s family may issue challenge.”
Fiore inclined his head.
“Then the crew of the Indomitable agrees to the terms of the combat.”
Taya shook her head, looking pleadingly at Cristof. He tapped his assent.
“You can’t—”
Silence. Agree.
She ground her teeth together.
“Justiciar Xu,” she said, stiffly, “the crew of the Firebrand agrees to the terms of the combat.”
“Then the Impeccable Justiciary approves this challenge. Ra Tafar is to board the Ondinium ship, and Tu Jinian the Alzanan ship, immediately, and they must remain aboard for the duration of the challenge. If either side wishes to avoid fighting by ceding victory to the other, it must do so before 6 a.m. tomorrow. At 6 a.m., both ships must leave the harbor and fly a mile from shore before commencing combat. Warning buoys must be set up demarcating the combat zone and warning other boats away. Those wishing to observe the combat from a boat or ship must stay outside of the combat zone and observe at their own risk. A private observation deck is to be set up at 4 a.m. on the easternmost seawall tower for justiciars and noncombatants belonging to each faction. Are there any further questions?”
Taya had hundreds of questions, but she bit them back. She looked at Amcathra and Imbrex. Neither indicated a desire to speak.
“No, Justiciar,” she said. Captain Fiore said the same.
The session ended. Ra Tafar joined them, bowing.
“Lieutenant, please escort the justiciar to the ship and brief the crew,” Amcathra said. “I will join you soon.”
“Aye, sir.” Imbrex saluted and left with Ra.
“We need to talk,” Taya said, grimly. “Should I ask Xu to join us?”
Cristof signaled a negative.
“But I want to ask her about that cannon and why in the world they’re selling weapons like that to foreigners!” Her voice was rising, but she couldn’t help it.
“That information has no bearing on tomorrow’s combat,” Amcathra said. “Find us a room where we can converse.”
Taya felt a surge of annoyance at his high-handed manner, exacerbated by Cristof’s signal of confirmation. She pulled her arm away and spun around, scowling.
Xu turned to Taya as soon as she stormed up.
“Icarus. Let me say at once that I believe we should restrict the sale of the serpentfire cannon. It is an experimental weapon and the science behind it remains unclear. I regret that its sale endangers your country.”
“Why do you sell weapons at all? Don’t you know that anything you sell can be used against you? Haven’t you read anything about Ondinium’s Last War?”
Xu sighed, suddenly looking her age. The justiciars around them fell silent, listening, and Liliana edged up with a stricken look on her face.
“Yes,” Xu said, “but Cabiel is not an authoritarian state. Several strong factions value a free market and challenge any law that limits the manufacture or export of goods. The munitions manufactory that is making the serpentfire cannon is part of that group.”
“But this goes far beyond guns and bombs! A firestorm a half-mile in radius? Imagine what that would do to one of your islands!
”
“I know what it can do. Believe me, Icarus Taya, there is an ongoing debate about this weapon among the most influential circles of our science and defense communities. But even if public opinion becomes strong enough for the manufacturer to accept trade restrictions, it takes time to pass such policies, and the Alzanans are here now, buying as many of the weapons as they can.”
“Are they buying the plans, too?”
“I do not think the manufacturer is selling its plans.”
“How many serpentfire cannon have the Alzanans bought?”
“I do not know. However, the technology is new— I do not think many are available.”
Taya closed her eyes, trying to control the churning in her stomach.
“Is there anyplace here where the ambassador can unmask in private?” she asked at last. Xu led them to a back room with several cushions and a low table.
Taya turned and saw Liliana and Dautry watching them. She waved them inside and closed the door.
Amcathra helped Cristof remove his mask. The exalted wiped his face on his sleeves and sank onto the cushion, still looking angry.
Liliana stood close to the doorway.
“Should I be here?” she asked in a small voice. The three Ondiniums looked at each other and then at her. She shrank back. Dautry put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, giving them a cool, challenging look.
“This discussion may distress her,” Amcathra said to Cristof.
“None of this is her fault,” Taya reminded them.
“I can leave.”
“No— no, stay if you want.” Cristof took his mask from Amcathra, not looking at the girl. “If we’re allies, you have the right to sit in on this conversation.”
The principessa meekly took a cushion on the empty side of the table. Dautry sat between her and Amcathra.
“I asked Xu about the cannon,” Taya said. “She said she didn’t think there were many available yet. Maybe… maybe they’re all on that ship.”
“Let’s hope so.” Her husband looked at Amcathra. “Can you sink it?” Liliana put a hand over her mouth but didn’t say a word. Dautry pursed her lips.
“My crew has confirmed that it uses the same inflammable gas as the others,” Amcathra replied. “Our strategy will be to ignite its engines or envelope.”
“But a justiciar will be on board,” Taya objected. “If we sink their ship, we’ll kill her, too! What if she’s married? What if she has children? You aren’t going to kill an innocent bystander, are you?”
Cristof rubbed his forehead, looking unhappy.
“We must assume that the justiciars are capable of making prudent decisions regarding their participation in the challenge,” Amcathra said.
“Even you’ve been known to let your emotions overwhelm your good sense,” Taya snapped. “That’s why we’re here now, isn’t it?”
“Taya,” Cristof interrupted. “This challenge isn’t his fault.”
“That is incorrect, Exalted. I did initiate both the fight and the challenge.” Amcathra met Taya’s eyes. “I will take responsibility for any deaths that occur as a result of my actions, including Justiciar Tu’s. Icarus, I will not hesitate to kill a dozen innocent people if it means I can save thousands.”
Taya stared at him. Could he really consider taking human life in such a cold, calculating manner? But then again, she thought with a surge of guilt, she had killed plenty of people herself to protect her husband and her nation.
“Can’t you just shoot out the engines?” Liliana asked, her voice shaking. “If the ship fell into the water, the cargo would be lost but people might survive….”
“Shooting the engines would cripple the dirigible; puncturing its envelope will sink it,” Dautry corrected. “If you make stopping the ship, rather than destroying it, your primary tactic, Captain, I’ll be willing to serve as your helm. Otherwise, I want no part of deliberate oath-breaking and murder.”
Amcathra looked from one woman to the other and slowly nodded.
“I will do what I can to spare the crew’s lives while ensuring that the serpentfire cannon cannot be used against Ondinium.”
“I’m going, too,” Taya said, remembering how chilled she’d felt in the last airfight when a crew member had fallen into the ocean to die. “I can try to save anyone who falls overboard from either ship.”
“Absolutely not,” Cristof snapped. “I need you next to me, not out in the middle of another airfight.”
“If I can save someone’s life, I will,” Taya argued. “Search and rescue has always been part of my duties.”
“You’re in the diplomatic corps now. Your first duty is to me.”
“You are not going to order me to stand back and watch people die!”
“Why not? That’s what you and Janos want me to do.”
“You’re an exalted and I’m an icarus!”
“My exalted birth was a mistake and everybody knows it. My family’s crazy, and the Council would have outcaste me last year if it didn’t need me for this ridiculous charade.” The color was high in his castemarked cheeks. “You know this was never my idea.”
“I know,” she said, struggling to rein in her temper. “But I won’t be in any danger. If anyone falls out of the ship, I’ll fly down and drop them a cork ring until they can be rescued. Cris, I’m the only one here who can do that. Please — I’ve already seen too much death — I’ve caused too much death — the nightmares keep coming no matter how many candles I light to the Lady! I have to do something to counterweight all the wrong I’ve done or I’ll never be able to look at myself in the mirror again.”
Cristof deflated, casting her a wretched look.
“It won’t be safe, no matter how careful you are.”
“I will keep her as safe as I can,” Amcathra said, quietly.
“You think she should do it, too?”
“How can your spirit be well if your wife’s is not?”
“My spirit sure as hell won’t be well if she dies!” He looked away, frustrated. “I don’t even believe in spirits.”
Taya started to say something but Amcathra gave her an almost imperceptible shake of his head. She bit back her words.
Liliana had pulled herself into a small huddle, watching the argument with mournful eyes. Dautry was also watching with a troubled expression on her face.
“Keep her alive, Janos,” Cristof said after a moment, his voice hard. “I’ll hold you responsible if she dies.”
“I have always sought to protect your wife as I would protect you, Exalted.”
“You have,” Taya whispered. Amcathra had sacrificed more to save her life than any man should be asked to do.
“All right, Taya,” her husband said, each word sounding wrenched out of him. “I won’t stop you. I suppose I can’t stop you.”
She waited for more, but he fell silent, as if that was all he could bring himself to say. At last, she nodded.
“Thank you.”
Chapter Nine
The sky was clear, the morning breeze cool, and the rising sun made the ocean glitter like diamonds. Taya stood on the raised forecastle next to Captain Amcathra and Ra Tafar, listening to the Firebrand’s ondium-plated wings move back and forth as it swept the ship toward the combat zone.
Despite their uneasy agreement in the Hall of Justice, she and Cristof had argued again that night in Xu’s house, until they’d both ended up lying on the thin Cabisi mattress with their backs to each other, tensely pretending to be asleep. That morning their good-bye kiss had been emotionless and perfunctory, and Taya had turned away with a heavy heart. Then Cristof had grabbed her arm, yanking her back around to face him.
“If Janos starts a suicide run, promise me you’ll get off the ship,” he said fiercely, his fingers digging into her leather flightsuit.
“A su— he wouldn’t do th
at!”
“That’s exactly what he’ll do, if it’s the only way he can destroy the Indomitable.”
“But… his crew….”
“His crew’s a bunch of lictors who’ve taken the same damn military oath that he has. But you never took that oath, so don’t you dare die with them.”
Taya stared at him, shaken.
“I won’t.”
“Good.” He looked down at his grip on her arm and released her, stepping back. “I just— I don’t—” His voice cracked and he fell silent, his face twisting.
“Cris.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and touched his cheek, running her fingers over his wave-shaped castemark.
“I try, Taya,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I try not to worry about you. I know you’re brave and resourceful and smart. But if you think it’s easy, staying behind while you risk your life—”
“I’ll be careful,” she promised, tasting salt as she kissed him. She didn’t know if it came from her tears or his, and it didn’t matter. They clung to each other a long time, despite his bulky ceremonial robes and her awkward ondium armature.
Now her mood was somber as she listened to the ship and crew. The Indomitable was flanking them in the distance, both vessels straining to beat the other to the designated area.
“When we move into the combat zone, Justiciar,” Captain Amcathra said at last, “I recommend you go below to view the fight through the observation window in the mess hall. We will leave the glass windows in place for you. The hull is metal-plated, so despite the glass, you will be reasonably safe from stray bullets.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Ra replied. “I prefer to stay on deck to watch the maneuvers, but I appreciate your recommendation.”
“Please restrict yourself to the quarterdeck, then,” Amcathra said. “Icarus, would you take him there?”
“All right.” Taya had already agreed to remain there during the battle. She gestured to Ra and they both headed back.
Today Taya was carrying field glasses around her neck, a long coil of rope wrapped around her waist, and a cork flotation ring secured to her armature. She was also carrying, in one flight-suit pocket, the familiar weight of a small bomb.
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