Cold Fire (Spiritwalker #2)

Cold Fire (Spiritwalker #2) Page 124

Words flooded like the storm’s surge in a wild burst of anger that took me utterly by surprise. “Rest? Do you think there is rest for the likes of us? Aren’t we the ones at the mercy of the flood and the hammer of the wind? How can it be right that a cold mage who can turn a wave into ice and shatter iron is nothing but the mansa’s property? And why would you think you truly own me, Vai, just because your mage House does own me due to a contract I never signed or agreed to? Why would I wrap myself in more chains?”

Leaving everyone gape-mouthed, I ran to the washhouse and blew my nose. A rime of emotion I could not describe or acknowledge coated me, so I stripped out of my clothes and washed myself and my hair and, braiding it wet, fixed it under a kerchief after I dressed. Luce looked in once but left me alone. Everyone else pretended not to see me.

At length I ventured out to a courtyard ringed by soft lamps, an illusion testifying to the power of Vai’s cold magic, he who had yesterday said he had nothing more to draw from. Unless that wasn’t what he had meant with the words “I can’t use that a second time.”

Folk came, as Uncle Joe had predicted. The crowd conversed in agitated murmurs. With a laden tray I walked among them as always, and I was grateful to do this ordinary work, just another gal making her way in the world.

Vai had put away his tools and gone over to talk to Kofi, their heads together like conspirators’. Who was this man who looked exactly like my husband? Once or twice or ten times he glanced toward me when he thought I wasn’t looking at him—not that I was looking at him all the time—and each time he would look away with an imperious lift of his chin as if to remind me of the way I had raged at him an hour ago in front of everyone. There was the Andevai I had married! I could dislike the arrogant cold mage. I had to.

How old men did ramble! Yet their words had a toothsome bite as they discussed why the Council hadn’t supported General Camjiata’s original bid for troops, money, and weapons.

“I reckon,” said the oldest uncle, “the Council feared the general would-a just turned troops and weapons around against the Council to overthrow them and sit he own self in they place.”

“So he is now run to the Taino? The cacica shall be glad to use the excuse to invade.”

Several shook their heads. “The Taino shall not invade. They hold their virtue very high. They shall never be the ones to break the First Treaty.”

So why would the Taino help the general? Everyone agreed: trade to Europa with no tariffs or wharfage fees and no restrictions as there were now. They could flood the Europan market with sugar, tobacco, and Expedition’s cheap cloth, and with the profits fund a war against their perpetual rivals, the Purépecha kingdom.

Oldest uncle considered. “The Council shall get those same benefits if they support the general. Except for the war with the Purépecha. The Council could likewise send over the ocean in the general’s service the very lads who trouble the city most with discontent. Yet they refuse to help him. Sweet Cat, yee is from Europa. What yee reckon?”

I paused beside the table, tray balanced on one hand, aware that Vai had looked around to see how I would deal with a question. “Does anyone think the general can defeat the Roman Alliance with a single small fleet from Expedition? Didn’t he lose the first war with a significantly larger army? But have you all forgotten there are radicals in Europa, too? Wasn’t it twenty years ago that General Camjiata wrote a legal code codifying the natural rights due to men? Wouldn’t the existence of such a legal code scare the Council?”

“Gal have a point,” said the oldest uncle. “The Council don’ like kings, but they like talk of equality less.”

“Maybe the Council refuses to help Camjiata because they fear the radicals support him.”

Brenna came over to pour more beer. “I hear Camjiata’s legal code don’ give rights to women. Like the Romans in that, yee know, for on he mother’s side he is of patrician descent.”

The oldest uncle answered her with a kindly nod at me to show he meant no offense. “Yee know how they is in Europa, very backward. Yee should, with that Roman mariner yee keep.”

“Which is why he and me never signed a marriage contract. He is a good man, yee all know it, but he got no rights over me share of this house and me money. Which will all go to me girls.”

“With yee permission, Uncle,” said Kofi, looming up beside the table. When the old man nodded, he went on. “I don’ know what they radicals in Europa reckon, but if the general wish for the support of we Assemblymen, he shall have to change he code. No troll clan will put a single ship or sailor at he disposal if females got no rights. And neither shall we.”