He lowered his arm. “I’m sure.”
“You’re the only one who has picked up anything about abuse.” Dazza motioned at his bodyguards. “They haven’t.”
“They aren’t Ruby telepaths.”
Ashman glanced at the Jagernauts, who had moved to stand near Vyrl. “What are you getting from her?”
“Fatigue,” the first man said. “She desperately wants this Inquiry to end.”
The second man nodded. “She resents ISC presence here.”
That’s right, Kamoj thought. She had given her answer and they had to respect it. More than anything, she wanted to sleep. She stood up, intending to demand an end to the Inquiry. Before she had a chance even to form the words, the world went gray and tilted sideways. The floor came up at her. Jax jumped to his feet and caught her as she collapsed. Sagging against him, she heard voices, something about Elixson, then more voices.
“Keep that hag away from her!” Jax ordered.
“Ironbridge, don’t be a fool,” Vyrl said. “Colonel Pacal is a healer, better than any you have here in camp.”
Jax lifted Kamoj into his arms. Then the fresh smell of his bed enfolded her. Someone had washed the covers. Jax made a blur above her, wavering in a grey mist. Lying on her side, she let the mist thicken until she could no longer see him.
A change in the pitch of voices brought her mind back into focus. Jax and Vyrl were standing a few paces apart now, by the bed, their faces flushed, their voices rising in volume.
“—think you can take whatever you want,” Jax said.
Vyrl clenched his fists at his sides. “That problem is yours, Ironbridge, not mine.”
“Argali is none of your business.”
Vyrl stepped forward, raising his fists. “We have laws—”
“Don’t threaten me.” Jax put his hands against Vyrl’s shoulders and shoved him away.
They came together like wrestlers, grappling with each other. Jax stumbled back, and with a crash he fell across the Inquiry table, knocking over a lantern. He and Vyrl wrestled, locked together, Vyrl closing his hands around Jax’s throat.
The Jagernauts were also moving, so fast their bodies blurred. One grabbed Vyrl and the other Jax, both guards straining as their captives resisted. They yanked Vyrl and Jax apart, one of the Jagernauts holding Vyrl by the arms, the other holding Jax.
Vyrl swore, struggling in his guard’s iron grip. For an instant Jax looked too stunned to respond. Then he tried to jerk his arms away from the giant who had caught him, a move he could easily have managed with a stagman, had one of his soldiers been stupid enough to try restraining him. It made no difference to the Jagernaut. Only when Jax quit fighting did the Ascendant stagman let him go.
“You have no right,” Kamoj said. She wasn’t sure who she spoke to: Vyrl, Jax, or the people from the Ascendant. Perhaps all of them. She wanted everyone to leave. She tried to get off the bed, but her body wouldn’t respond. It occurred to her that if she didn’t eat soon, she would die.
The bed creaked. Then someone lifted her head into his lap, just as she had often done with Vyrl. She rolled onto her back and looked up to see Jax’s face above hers. Kneeling behind her, he held her head on his knees while he stroked her hair with the same inborn rhythm she had used on Vyrl. A bruise was purpling his face and a large tear made a ragged hole in the shoulder of his shirt. He looked far more vulnerable than Vyrl, who stood at the end of the bed flanked by his gargantuan bodyguards with their antimatter weapons.
Jax raised his gaze to Ashman. “Why don’t you all go back to your starships and leave us alone?”
The general spoke quietly. “You will have to let my doctor examine Governor Argali.”
“No,” Jax said.
Kamoj swallowed. “Jax… I don’t feel well.”
He stroked her hair. “Elixson can take care of you.” Glancing at his healer, he said, “Why is she sick?”
“She needs food and rest,” Elixson said.
“I fed her,” Jax said. “Just as you said. Right after we spoke.”
Elixson stared at him. “Sir, the Current has gifted you with an endurance well beyond normal folk, that you can go a day and more without food, walk through sleet and never notice, or ride for days without rest. Your wife is a hearty young woman, but compared to you anyone is fragile. You must learn to account for that. She has to eat four times a day, at least two of them full meals. She must sleep at night and wear warm clothes when she is exposed to the weather.”
Dazza spoke in a cold voice. “Governor Ironbridge, exposure and starvation are considered methods of coercion.”
“You don’t call what you people are doing coercion?” Jax looked around at them. “Sending Argali a corporation I could never match even if I worked at it my entire life? Playing with the future and well-being of the Northern Lands as if it were nothing? Attacking my camp during a ‘truce.’ Threatening us with your soldiers and your weapons and your ‘assimilation?’ How many times does Kamoj have to tell you she wants you to go away?”
Dazza spoke softly. “Why, Kamoj? If you’re sick or in pain, I can help.”
“We don’t want your help,” Jax said.
Kamoj thought of the knife in Jax’s boot and said nothing. She heard the rustle of camp outside, the snort of a greenglass, the shuffle of boots. Her mind was beginning to dissociate from her body.
Dazza pulled off her belt. Or not the entire belt, but part of it. When she ran her hand along the strip, it changed itself, turning into a flexible tube.
The colonel spoke to Jax. “This fires a needle that contains a drug. It won’t harm you, but it will put you to sleep almost immediately.”
Several Ironbridge stagman started toward her. As soon as they moved, Ashman motioned to Vyrl’s bodyguards and they stepped forward.
Jax shook his head at his stagmen, a sign for them to back off. Relief flickered on their faces. Kamoj knew they would have defended Jax if he hadn’t stopped them, but against the Jagernauts it was obvious they had no chance.
Jax spoke bitterly to Dazza. “So you lied about carrying no weapons. Why is it that I have no surprise at this deception?”
Kamoj could see how vulnerable he felt. He hid it well, but he more than anyone understood the capabilities of the Ascendant’s minions. No one seemed to realize the danger in making him feel trapped. They had left him no outs, and she was the one who would pay for it.
As Dazza raised her sleep tube, Kamoj felt Jax reach into his boot. Kamoj tried to roll away, but he held her in place. Then he slapped the knife against her throat.
“The only way you will have her,” he told Vyrl, “is as a corpse.”
Everyone in the tent froze. After a moment, Dazza spoke carefully. “Governor Ironbridge, don’t hurt her.”
“Kamoj, sit up,” Jax said.
She dragged herself up to her knees, and Jax pulled her between his legs, so they were both kneeling, she with her back against his front. The flat of his blade chilled her neck. When he shifted position, the knife’s razor edge nicked her skin. Vyrl stood at the foot of the bed, watching them, one fist clenched at his side. His bodyguards had their hands on their weapons, and Kamoj had no doubt they would protect Vyrl even if it meant her death.
Major Tulain spoke. “What do you want us to do, Governor Ironbridge?”
Kamoj wondered if even Jax knew the answer. What could he do except kill her? Then Vyrl would kill him. Then what?
Jax said, “Where is Baldarin?”
“Who is Baldarin?” Tulain asked.
“The archer who shot Prince Havyrl,” Jax said. “Your people were holding him in Argali pending the decision on whether or not to ‘press charges.’ Where is he now?”