Cold Steel (Spiritwalker 3)

“No, but I convinced the Master of the Wild Hunt to take her instead of Vai.”

“You acted in self-defense. The cacica was about to kill you, and you defended yourself.”

“What about Rory? Many witnesses saw a black saber-toothed cat break her neck.”

She tapped her taloned fingers on the table. “Is a soldier responsible for the deaths he is ordered to inflict in battle? Or is the general who commands the deaths held to be the responsible party? Furthermore, on a night of storm, confused and frightened people may see shadows as giant eagles or as creeping spiders. Perhaps there was such a cat. Certainly in the ancestral territories of my people, what you rats call troll country, such carnivores prowl the land. We have hunted them and been hunted in our turn. But that is not proof that your brother committed the act.”

“The prince saw him become a cat and then change back into a man, just now, when he got shot,” I said.

“We cannot accuse a man of thieving a hat just because some man was seen to steal a hat and the accused is also a man.” She bared her teeth at me in a brilliantly sharp smile, as if she were preparing to eat any lawyers who argued against her. “Very well. I am prepared to make a case.”

As the clerk tidied up her notes, we went to the glass-paned doors to look into the deserted courtyard. Afternoon shadows smeared darkness across stone pathways.

Kofi joined us there. “I have set wardens to guard yee so the fire mage can make no mischief before the inquiry. I don’ trust him, with the way he went after yee on the steps. As for the general, we shall see who shall come out the winner in this match.”

“The general scored a point on you all, didn’t he? By catching me at the quay.”

His taut smile made him look eager for a fight. “We’s not playing batey now. We in the Assembly is playing the game of politics. We don’ intend to lose this hard-won freedom. If the Taino can force us to turn yee over to them, then it’s as if they rule us. That’s why we shall fight so hard to get yee off, despite what the law and the First Treaty say.”

Voices were raised outside. We looked around as the door slammed open to reveal stern-faced Taino soldiers, richly dressed attendants, Prince Caonabo, and Beatrice.

6

Some people have the knack of sweeping into any situation as if they were born to be the light of all eyes. Beatrice might be mistaken for a shallow, flighty, and self-absorbed young woman, but I knew her bombastic and flamboyant manner concealed a generous heart, a brooding intellect, and an indignation at the unfairness and injustice in the world. She had had a lot of time to think about the curse of dreaming that would plague her for the rest of her life and had chosen to confront it head-on. Clutching a sketchbook and lead pencil, she sailed into the room.

“Cat! There you are!”

A magnificent white cotton robe in the style of a Taino noblewoman’s covered her from shoulders to ankles. A bodice beaded with pearls wrapped her bosom and waist, emphasizing her much admired and voluptuous curves. The lush curls of her black hair cascaded around her shoulders, ornamented with strings of pearls. She embraced me, then looked around my shoulder.

“Rory!” She ran to him and rested her cheek against his. Tears glimmered in her eyes.

“Prince Caonabo healed him,” I said, following her. “I thought you should know that.”

Prince Caonabo broke his silence. “Assemblyman, how can my people trust those who will not honor the law and our ancient treaties?”

“A heavy accusation, Your Highness,” said Kofi, with the stare of a man who feels sure of his ground. I was surprised he spoke so boldly to the Taino prince. “My advice to yee is to be careful in how yee choose yee allies.”

The prince indicated the door. “I should prefer to speak to the accused in private.”

Kofi looked at me, and I nodded my permission. He, Keer, and all the others left. Bee and I were alone with the prince except, of course, for his catch-fires and Rory.

Bee smiled blindingly at Caonabo for long enough to coax a smile to his grave expression. “I hope you see it is impossible for you to consider hanging my dear Cat.”

“Hanging is a barbaric Europan custom,” the prince replied as he crossed the chamber.

Reaching her, he extended a hand. To my surprise, Bee meekly handed him her new sketchbook, the one she had started after Camjiata had stolen the other. Bee had started drawing the year my parents died and had never stopped. She often slept with a pencil in her hand. Even now her fingers were smudged with lead. She had been drawing and had come in such haste she hadn’t had time to wash.

“So, Beatrice”—he pronounced the name charmingly, like Bey-a-tree-say—“we all three know she had a hand in the death of my mother.” I would never have dared to thumb through Bee’s sketchbook without permission unless I was far enough away from her to avoid objects flung at me. He flipped casually through its mostly blank pages. “Regardless, I have done as you asked.”

“What did you ask, Bee?” I demanded.

“I asked nothing.” Bee’s gaze was fixed on the sketchbook as if she expected spiders to crawl out of it.

“It is true. She asked nothing. A woman like Beatrice does not crudely threaten. She would never remind me in plain words that my claim to the cacique’s throne is tenuous and that I need her presence as my bride to give my claim weight. She would never hold over my head how precious a treasure she is. One need only look at her to know that.”

She flashed a gaze at him, her chin trembling, then demurely cast her gaze to the floor. “Does the marriage bed not please you, Husband?”

He tensed. “You know it does. But that cannot sway me.”