Cold Steel (Spiritwalker 3)

It was harder than I’d thought to leave Bee. Vai and Rory waited at the gate with the saddled horse and our gear.

“I wish I could come with you, dearest, as Rory can,” she said.

“Camjiata will never let you go if he gets hold of you again, nor will the mansa. I do believe Kehinde and Brennan would let you walk away if you choose to do so.”

“That is why I trust them.” She bent a frown on me. “You must not let Vai bully you.”

“He does not bully me.”

“No, it’s true, he doesn’t. He fondles you with those sultry eyes. You’re quite hopeless, Cat.”

I took her hands. “Yes, but you do like him, don’t you, Bee?”

“Gracious Melqart! What would you do if I said I did not?”

A quiver of fear made me cold, as if winter had kissed me.

“Oh, dearest!” She embraced me. “For your sake, I already love him. I suppose when we have a pleasant home with a hypocaust wing, I shall endure him well enough, and you and I shall have a private parlor with a stove where he is not allowed to enter.” She laughed. “Cat! Your expression is quite confounded. He and I understand each other. The important thing is that he knows he has to maintain my good opinion, as he showed this morning. I respect his intellect and his rare and potent magic, which he has worked very hard to achieve. I do think he is a good man, and in ten years he may be bearable and in twenty he may even be likable.”

“I suppose I deserved that for asking!” I said.

We both laughed, and I left her.

Rory, Vai, and I passed through Arras Gate, Vai leading the horse, and made our way down the boulevard toward the Lady’s Island and the river.

“Nothing like family to keep you on your toes,” remarked Rory.

Vai smiled in the irritating way he had when all his ill temper had dissolved as mist under the sun because he had gotten what he wanted. “Do you miss your family, Rory?”

“Me? Yes. But it wasn’t to last, you know. Mother was already starting to look around for another mate. When she chose one, he would have driven me out, and I have no brothers to go a-roaming with. It’s a lonely life to hunt alone. I like it here just fine. You’re my brother now, Vai.”

“So I am, Rory.” Vai slipped a hand into the crook of Rory’s elbow so they walked arm in arm. His easy, affectionate camaraderie with a man he trusted made me fall in love with him all over again.

They talked for a while of inconsequential things.

“You’re quiet, love,” Vai said at last, releasing Rory’s arm and pulling me over next to him.

“Andevai, do you like Bee?”

Rory snorted. “That is a question I would tremble to answer were I you! For myself, I find her annoying, managing, and bossy. But I’m accustomed to such behavior from females.”

Vai let go of my elbow and took my hand, just as if we were a courting couple in Expedition. “I love her like a sister. I realize her good opinion matters more to you than that of anyone else. She accepts that you love me. So she and I understand each other well enough. Why are you laughing, Catherine?”

I did not explain.

When we reached the forecourt of Two Gourds House, Vai was in a mood to throw his weight around. He demanded baths, food, horses, and a djeli to accompany us, as befitted his rank as heir. When I emerged refreshed, I discovered Rory in the entry hall lounging on a marble bench and surrounded by women. The highborn magisters who had scorned me in the women’s quarters turned to me with an effusive friendliness that amused me. Would we return to Two Gourds House soon? Would my brother be staying with me? Was he married?

Naturally we had to wait for Vai, who appeared at length in fresh clothes. He rode alongside the djeli to converse on arcane matters of genealogy. Rory and I rode behind, with two grooms, two attendants, and two troopers.

“I must say, those women looked very bored,” said Rory.

“I suppose they are. That’s probably why they were so sour and unfriendly to me.”

“I’ll bet they would be up for some friskiness. You could let me loose there for a month and everyone would be much the happier for it.”

I laughed. “I promise you, Rory, if we ever return there, I will certainly let you loose, just to enjoy the spectacle.”

On the southern side of the river, the fields and pastures that lay beyond the city wall were crowded with the encampments of the Coalition army. An entire market had sprung up to serve the soldiers. I was glad to pass quickly through the market’s sprawling, reeking, noisy clamor into the relative quiet of Lord Marius’s command tent. The djeli walked in front, announcing our arrival with a song lauding Four Moons House and the exceptional nobility and formidable power of its mansa and the skilled magic and excellent cooking of its women. After this preface the djeli changed his tune. Singing with the very same melody Lucia Kante had drawn out of her fiddle, he detailed a brisk version of the battle of Lemovis in which Andevai’s quick thinking and astonishing magic figured prominently.