“We did as you said and made use of the spelled box the Ascendant’s minions gave you.”
“Did anyone answer?”
“Indeed,” Lector said. “The Ascendant sent a metal bird. It took away Lionstar and left ten of those large Ascendant stagman who wear black. They be at the camp now.”
“Ten?” Jax tensed. “As conquerors or protectors?”
“We donnee know. They say nothing.”
“I want you to send a message to the Ascendant,” Jax said. “Tell them I’ve changed my mind about this Arbiter of theirs, that I’m willing to go with their first choice after all.”
“Sir?”
“They chose a woman. I refused.” Jax pushed back his hair. “This is the message: ‘His honor, the Governor of Ironbridge, accepts the Ascendant’s first choice of Arbiter. Although he has discomfort with this, as women don’t serve as judges here, his wife would feel more comfortable talking to a woman.’”
Kamoj stiffened. She had never said that. She had no desire to talk to anyone. She just wanted this to be over.
After Lector left, Jax turned to Kamoj and drew her into his arms, pulling Lector’s cloak around them both. He spoke against her hair. “You are so warm under here.”
She wondered how his body worked, that he thought her warm when she felt so cold. If only he had a kindness to match his physical strengths and prodigious intellect.
“This is why he attacked my camp,” Jax said. “He knows I’m alone with you.” His voice sounded strained. “How does he do it, Kamoj? How can he see what is in your heart so much better than I?”
“He feels emotions,” she said.
“His bodyguards do also, don’t they? To a lesser extent.”
“I think so.”
Bitterness touched his voice. “Shall we give him more emotions to feel, ones he can get from you tomorrow at the Inquiry?” His hand moved over her breast. “The feelings of a man and his wife together?”
“Jax—”
“‘Jax,’ what?” His voice hardened. “A lifetime we’ve built together. Then in one day you throw it all to a stranger who invades our land, steals our loved ones, mocks our ways, and plunders our dreams.” He gritted his teeth. “You pushed me too far tonight, calling for him. I can’t just let it pass.”
As he reached for his belt, Kamoj tried to shield herself with her hands. Her tight sleeves stopped her from lifting her arms, but soon it didn’t matter. Jax wanted no cloth protecting his target. He showed her the ways of his quirt and belt, their every texture and nuance, then held her in his arms and showed her the ways of himself, giving her memories meant to torment Vyrl as much as please himself.
Later, when he had fallen asleep, she tried to blank her mind. To forget.
The Ironbridge camp took form out of the morning’s misty light. Stagmen were everywhere: Ironbridge in violet and silver, Lionstar in copper and blue, Ascendant in black.
Kamoj rode on Mistrider in front of Jax, flanked by Lector and Tera on stagback. She could imagine the sight they made, emerging out of the prismatic mist, otherworldly and antediluvian on their shimmering greenglass mounts. With such a small party, they would appear vulnerable to Vyrl’s people, helpless natives come to face a rampaging sky-boat prince. She wondered if Jax had planned it that way.
She felt dazed. In the last three days she had eaten once and slept only a few hours. The chill penetrated her bones. Jax had given his word: she could eat and sleep after the Ascendant people left. She didn’t doubt he meant it; one reason he inspired loyalty from his people, even if they also feared him, was because he kept his word.
Twelve soldiers waited outside Jax’s pavilion, four each for Ironbridge, Lionstar, and the Ascendant. As Jax and his party rode up to the tent, three boys appeared, running up to meet them, staghands in breeches and heavy furs. After Jax and Kamoj dismounted, the youths led away the greenglass stags. The Ironbridge and Lionstar stagmen bowed while the Ascendant soldiers watched Kamoj with a disturbing intensity. Were they trying to read her emotions? I am a lake, she thought. A flat lake. No ripples.
An Ironbridge stagman spoke. “The Inquiry awaits inside.”
Jax nodded. Kamoj wondered how he had arranged to have Vyrl wait for him. A morass of conflicting authorities surrounded them here, complex and intricate.
Flanked by stagmen, they entered the pavilion. Braziers warmed the tent, and the sudden increase in temperature made Kamoj queasy. The Inquiry waited at the table where Jax had signed the contracts yesterday. His priestess and judge were already there, along with two strangers, a man with black hair and an older woman. Shimmers covered the strangers and they dressed like Dazza, in grey bodysuits with the exploding sun insignia on one shoulder. They and Kamoj were the only ones with no weapons: all the stagmen carried swords, and the Ascendant soldiers had snouted weapons on their belts.
Everyone at the table stood up as Jax entered. He ignored them, glancing around the tent. Vyrl was nowhere to be seen.
A rustle came from behind them. Turning, Kamoj saw eight soldiers entering the tent, four from the Ascendant and four in Lionstar colors.
A man with iron-grey hair walked among them.
He towered over the stagmen, massive in build, with a face of granite-hewn lines. He too wore the grey uniform, but his had gold ribbing on the sleeves. His presence riveted attention. Kamoj needed no introduction to tell her this man carried authority. The force of his personality filled the tent.
Next came Vyrl, with two bodyguards, huge men in Jagernaut black who seemed to be holding him prisoner as much as protecting him. Seeing him, her heart raced. Neither he nor Jax spoke: instead, they stared at each other, their hostility almost thick enough to see.
Vyrl had no weapons, or ceremonial clothes and diskmail. In fact, she had never seen garb such as he wore: grey trousers with a crease down each leg and cuff at the bottom; a white sweater with a high, folded neck; and shoes with no visible seams. The fabric of his pants was so fine she couldn’t see the weave. She knew of no one who could sew such a flawless garment.
At the table, the woman from the Ascendant spoke. “It would be best if the weapons remained outside the tent.”
There was a shifting of weight, feet moving, hands sliding on hilts, the crackling of brazier. Kamoj waited for Jax to refuse. If he or his stagmen gave up their weapons, Ironbridge relinquished what share of authority it had so far managed to retain.
Incredibly, Jax removed his sword belt and handed it to one of his stagman, then nodded for his soldiers to remove theirs. After an awkward silence, Vyrl told his people to disarm. The man of power from the Ascendant watched the exchange with an intent gaze that Kamoj suspected missed nothing. When he glanced at the two men guarding Vyrl, the Jagernauts, they gave slight nods, acknowledging whatever unspoken order he had just made. When the other twelve soldiers left the tent, the two Jagernauts remained behind.
Jax considered them, and the bulky black weapons on their belts, the “antimatter guns.” Then he looked at the Ascendant’s people, his accusation obvious without his uttering a word.
The woman spoke. “Given the conditions of Prince Havyrl’s arrest, his guards cannot remove their guns while they are standing guard on him.”
At the word “arrest,” satisfaction flickered on Jax’s face. He made no further dispute. It surprised Kamoj, given his intent to establish authority. That was done with behaviors that displayed the expectation of obedience. But then, such methods would do little good here, given the superiority of the Ascendant’s people in everything from weapons to physical size to clothing. This battle would be fought in more subtle ways.