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.
* * *
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.
Besides, Jax was still armed. He had shown her the knife this morning as he hid it in his boot. It didn't matter that one knife was nothing against "antimatter guns." If he stabbed her with it, she would still be dead.
Everyone stood, waiting. Then Vyrl sat down, across the table from Kamoj. She eased into her chair, trying to hide how much it hurt to move or sit. The man of power from the Ascendant sat next, followed by everyone else. A rustle came from the tent entrance and the twelve soldiers reentered, all unarmed now.
A new person came with the soldiers. Dazza Pacal. As she sat at the table, the Ironbridge judge frowned and glanced at Jax. Yet again, Jax made no protest. Instead he nodded to the colonel as if it were perfectly natural for her to attend an inquiry that concerned his personal life and had nothing to do with her. Of all people, he was the last Kamoj would have expected to show such flexibility.
The unfamiliar Ascendant woman spoke. "I am Major Tulain." She nodded to the man of power.
"General Hamilton Ashman."
Kamoj froze. Ashman. Ashman. Vyrl had told her that name. General Ashman commanded the Ascendant.
This was the man who had made the decision to leave Vyrl buried alive above the sky.
"I will serve as Arbiter for these proceedings," Major Tulain continued. "Is this acceptable to all parties?"
Jax spoke quietly. "Ironbridge accepts."
"Yes," Vyrl said.
The Arbiter waited. When the silence became awkward, she said, "Governor Argali?"
Kamoj tensed. Now what?
"Major Tulain." Jax paused. "A woman in Kamoj's position, that is, in a merger such as ours, won't speak at a proceeding such as this."
"Unless he gives her permission." Vyrl's voice grated. "As her owner."
Jax tried to look patient. Tulain glanced at Vyrl, then back at Jax. "Is that true?"
"Prince Havyrl chooses to see our lives through the filter of his experiences," Jax said.
"Although this is understandable, given his condition, it makes no sense to confuse our customs with those of the people you are at war with, a people we have neither met nor had any connection to at all."
"Confuse hell," Vyrl said.
Tulain gave him a warning glance. Then she spoke to Jax. "Your willingness to adapt to our procedures for the benefit of Governor Argali has been noted and appreciated. However, we can't proceed with this hearing unless she participates."
Kamoj waited for Jax to refuse. Instead he turned to her and spoke softly. "Please. Feel free to speak."
She gritted her teeth. He made himself look so reasonable, a leader trying to do the best for his wife and people. In his own way, that was his intent. But, if she said something he didn't like, she would pay for it later.
"I want Governor Ironbridge to speak for me," she said.
"I object," Vyrl said.
"She has the right to make the request," Tulain said.
"What's wrong with all of you?" Vyrl said. "Can't you see she's afraid of him?"
"Perhaps it isn't me that she fears," Jax said.
"Like hell," Vyrl said.
The Arbiter held up her hand. To Kamoj, she said, "In this Inquiry you are under the protection of Imperial Space Command. No one can force you to do anything you don't want." Gently she added, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes," Kamoj said. Why did they all talk to her as if she were a child? It made no difference. She had seen how well they "protected" her from Jax. Her body ached from their protection.
"All you have to do is ask," Tulain said. "But the request must come from you."
"I understand," Kamoj said.
"Do you still wish Governor Ironbridge to speak for you?"
"Yes."
"Damn it," Vyrl said. "Major, can't you see she doesn't believe you?"
Tulain considered Kamoj. "We can protect you. No one can hurt you." She paused. "That includes Prince Havyrl as well as your husband."
"He's not her goddamned husband," Vyrl said.
Tulain turned to him. "Perhaps it would be better if we address that question through proper Inquiry procedures."
Vyrl scowled, but said nothing more. Ashman watched it all with piercing concentration, letting his minions probe while he analyzed. Kamoj suspected that he was, by far, the most dangerous person in the room.
Tulain's assistant set a black book-box on the table, then opened it to reveal a sheaf of parchments. Tulain lifted the top paper. "The question," she said, "is whether or not these contracts were willingly signed by Kamoj Argali. Her signature is in your hand, Governor Ironbridge."
"Kamoj can neither read nor write," Jax said.
"Is she aware of what you signed for her?"
"Of course. She was here when we discussed it."
"Prince Havyrl contends you coerced her agreement."
"Prince Havyrl is mistaken."
As the questions continued, the scene blurred for Kamoj. All she could think of was how much she wanted to sleep. But the Inquiry ground on and on. They covered every detail of her life since the day Vyrl had seen her in the river. The picture that formed was twisted around, yet nothing was false. She had said she dreaded the Lionstar-Argali merger. She had removed Vyrl's mask in the coach. He hadn't known her name, or even remembered he was married.
Then came statements from the palace staff. Vyrl's servants went far beyond the expected fealty.
Again and again they expressed their devotion to him. They spoke of humane working conditions, of wages that allowed them to climb out of poverty, of Vyrl's talent with grains and livestock, his innovation with crop rotation, his cleverness in using the tiny flying lizards to aid the crops.
All spoke of his kindness. Although Jax sat quietly, Kamoj felt his growing anger. He had never expected this.
But every statement stumbled when it came to Vyrl's drinking, his moods, his tormented nights.
With his marriage to Kamoj, the stumbles became lurches.
Tulain read the comments of the housemaid who had come to help Kamoj the morning after her wedding night. "'She looked so scared,'" the maid said. "'So vulnerable. And she be clutching a doll. A doll. Like a little girl. I know his Highness be a good man, I know it truly. But this-I don't know what to say.'"
In the silence that followed, Jax said, "Kamoj and I weren't to marry for at least another two years."
Kamoj stiffened. What game was Jax playing now? He had constantly chafed at the delay in their marriage.
"Under the laws of our people," Tulain said, "she can't marry for another seven years. That's about eight of your short-years."
"What?" Vyrl stared at the major. "What are you talking about?"
Jax snorted. "Perhaps you need to learn your own laws, Lionstar."
Vyrl ignored him, his attention on Tulain. "She can marry when she's twenty-five."
"That's right," Tulain said.
"But she is now."
Everyone just looked at him. Finally Dazza said, "Vyrl, Kamoj is eighteen years old."
"That's impossible," he said. "Look at her. Talk to her. She's a grown woman."
"Her people were gengineered to mature early," Dazza said. "To increase the span of their useful years as slaves. That trait manifests in Kamoj. She is more mature, in both mind and body, than what we associate with her age. Also, in this culture people marry at a young age. Kamoj is actually considered old for a bride. But legally she is a child."
Vyrl sagged back in his chair. Watching him, Kamoj felt his defeat. He knew how he looked. He glanced at her and flushed, as if he believed she too thought him a monster. She wanted to reassure him, but she knew better than to speak. Maybe he would sense her feelings, maybe not. He never seemed to catch them fully, only in pieces, and what she felt now, more than anything else, was tired.