"Against who?" Tulain asked. "And for what?"
"Against Prince Havyrl Torcellei Valdoria," Jax said. "For the attempted murder of my stagmen last night, when he attacked this camp during a truce. I also want to file suit with your civil authorities to protest the way Prince Havyrl and your ISC have treated my people." He pointed at the Inquiry table with his free hand. "I want the evidence from this Inquiry made part of the record."
"Your testimony is being recorded," Tulain said. "So your charges are in the official record."
"That’s not good enough." Jax motioned at Vyrl. "Your army would do anything to protect him. Without some guarantee, my comments will never make it past this tent."
General Ashman had his full concentration focused on Jax now. No clue of his thoughts showed on his face, but Kamoj suspected that even if no one else had yet realized it, the general was beginning to understand how much they had underestimated Jax.
"You have our guarantee of due process," Tulain said.
Jax snorted. "As I had your guarantee of a truce last night?"
"We’re making full recordings of this Inquiry," she said. "We will provide you with copies of those recordings and a web system to verify them, as well as equipment to contact whomever you wish to represent your case."
"Not good enough," Jax said. "I have no way to stop you from setting your machines to break after you have what you want."
"What is it you would have us do?" Tulain asked.
"When your people returned my stagman to Ironbridge," Jax said, "a delegation came with him. Including a man called Drake Brockson. He told me he was part of an organization that represented worlds like ours in the Imperial Assembly, to ensure we weren’t mistreated. I want you to contact him. I want his representation."
"Professor Brockson is an anthropologist, not a legal counsel," Tulain answered. "He can’t represent you."
"Then he will find me someone who can," Jax said.
Ashman spoke. "No."
Vyrl swung around to him. "What?"
"I will not submit to threats," the general said.
"Damn it, Ashman," Vyrl said. "He’s not bluffing. He’ll kill Kamoj."
"The answer is no."
Jax moved the knife on Kamoj’s neck, "You have fifteen seconds to contact Brockson."
Tulain stared at him. "You would kill your own wife? The woman you’ve fought this entire conflict for? Doesn’t that defeat your purpose?"
"Nine seconds," Jax said.
"If she dies," Tulain said, "you have nothing."
"Seven seconds."
"Are you willing to give up everything," Tulain asked. "Your realms, title, freedom, possibly your life?"
Jax turned the blade so its edge lay against a large vein in Kamoj’s neck. "One second."
"Ashman, do what he wants!" Vyrl’s voice snapped out. "Now."
Jax paused, his knife against Kamoj’s skin. Ashman turned to Vyrl, the two of them locked in a silent battle Kamoj knew had nothing to do with her or her world.
Still watching Vyrl, Ashman spoke in a harsh voice. "Major Tulain, contact Brockson. Have the transcript of this Inquiry transmitted to him."
Kamoj almost sagged with relief. Jax turned the knife, setting the flat of the blade against her neck.
Tulain contacted the Ascendant using her aide’s book-box. Watching her "upload files," Kamoj felt a dazed detachment, as if she were an observer in a distant place. The knife made a bar of ice against her throat. No one spoke. No one moved.
The blow came from behind. Kamoj glimpsed a Jagernaut, not one of Vyrl’s bodyguards but someone else. Jax must have caught sight of his approach, because he was already jerking away his arm when the Jagernaut grabbed for it. The Jagernaut caught cloth instead, ripping Jax’s sleeve. He had also fired a sleep weapon, but either it missed Jax or had no effect; he kept moving, yanking Kamoj back on the bed until they faced the Jagernaut as well as everyone else.
"Liar," Jax spat at Ashman, stabbing his knife down at Kamoj’s heart–
"NO!" Vyrl shouted. In the same instant, Tulain said, "Wait! Brockson is transmitting his reply."
Jax froze, the tip of his knife touching Kamoj’s bodice. "And?"
A man’s voice came into the air. "Governor Ironbridge, this is Drake Brockson. I will take your case and find you legal representation."
Watching General Ashman, Kamoj saw his sour look. Apparently Brockson’s word was good.
Jax must have seen it as well. Softly he said, "Good." Then he let go of the knife.
The blade fell down Kamoj’s front and onto the bed. Holding her around the waist, Jax sagged forward, letting his head rest against hers. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "If it makes a difference, I couldn’t have done it. I meant what I said, but I misjudged. I could never have killed you."
"Saints almighty," someone muttered.
Jax held onto her, rocking back and forth, a ritualistic soothing motion Kamoj knew well, having often lapsed into it herself. With the same inbred instincts, she stroked his arms where he held her around the waist, offering comfort.
Dazza watched them with a strange expression, as if what she saw was breaking her heart. She raised her sleep tube and the expected hiss came from it. Although Jax stiffened, he made no further protest. When Kamoj felt his weight slump against her, she knew he had passed out.
Ashman turned to Vyrl. "You said he wasn’t bluffing."
"I wasn’t sure," Vyrl said. "I couldn’t take chances."
"Damn you, Valdoria," Ashman said. "With Brockson on the case we can’t keep it quiet. Do you have any idea of the diplomatic and political repercussions this mess will create?"
"What would you have me do?" Vyrl asked. "You said it yourself. I’ve been in a telepathic catatonia. I couldn’t be sure if he would kill her."
Kamoj extracted herself from Jax’s embrace and shifted her position so she was behind him. Sitting cross-legged, she laid his head on her knees, just as he had earlier done with hers. When she began to massage his temples, everyone stopped talking and stared at them.
Vyrl looked as if his heart were being torn in two. Walking forward, he spoke softly. "Kamoj, you don’t have to do that."
She cradled Jax’s head, too dazed to answer.
As Vyrl knelt on the bed, Dazza warned, "Leave her be."
Vyrl shook his head. "She needs–"
"Valdoria, don’t be an idiot," Ashman said. "Touch that girl again without her consent and I’ll throw you in the brig myself."
Vyrl looked up at Ashman as if he wanted to punch him. But he stood up, moving away from Kamoj. Ashman’s words echoed in her mind. Consent. Consent. Consent.
"Governor Argali needs to eat," Elixson said.
"Can you get her something?" Dazza asked. "Plain broth, if possible."
Elixson spoke to a stagman and the soldier left, the entrance flaps swinging back and forth after he was gone, back and forth, back and forth . . .
Kamoj swayed. Her arm was growing numb from supporting Jax’s head. She shifted his weight, easing him to a new place.
"Gods," Dazza whispered.
Puzzled by the shock in the colonel’s voice, Kamoj tried to focus on her. Dazza was staring at her arm. Looking down, Kamoj saw that when she had moved Jax’s head, it had dragged the sleeve of her dress up past her elbow. There, in humiliating detail for everyone to see, was her shame, the bruises and welts that covered her skin.
Vyrl spoke to Ashman. "Now do you believe me?"
Dazza sat on the bed and spoke gently to Kamoj. "Governor Argali, I won’t touch either you or Governor Ironbridge without your permission. But if you will allow it, I can treat those wounds." She swallowed. "And any others you have."
"Will it hurt?" Kamoj asked.
"I can anesthetize the area. What I did with your foot the other night. You won’t feel anything."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing." In a healer’s gentle voice, she added, "I’ll make the hurting stop."
"Yes," Kamoj said. "Do
that."
"We need to separate you from Governor Ironbridge. It that all right?"
"No."
"We won’t hurt him."
"What will you do with him?"
"He’s just sleeping," Dazza said. "We’ll leave him here with his healer. He’ll wake soon enough."
Kamoj looked up at Vyrl. "You told me that you would protect me last night if I asked for your help. I asked. This is what happened. If I ask again, will I get hurt again?"
Vyrl sat on the bed, ignoring Dazza’s warning look. "If I could take back last night–" His voice caught. "I can’t change what happened. But I can promise it won’t happen again."
Moving with care, Kamoj set Jax’s head on the bed. She slid closer to Vyrl and nausea swept over her. She waited for it to subside, then moved another hand span. The nausea surged. She was dimly aware of everyone watching her, but she didn’t care. Right now all she could deal with was this journey of hand spans.
After an eon of starts and stops, fighting nausea, she came close to Vyrl. She looked up into his face. "I want to go with you." Reaching her arms out to him, she said, "Take me home."
Vyrl folded her into his embrace. No one spoke. No one told him to let her go. No one made a sound. His scent soaked into her, from his hair, his body, and his clothes. Tears ran down her face, but she didn’t make a sound as she cried.
XIII
ROSE POOL
Asymptotic State
Moonlight lit the bedroom, flowing through the window above the desk. Kamoj sat with Vyrl, leaning against the headboard of the bed, surrounded by pillows, he still wearing his slacks and turtleneck, she in a farm tunic. The room’s warmth and the potions Dazza had given her lulled her into a doze . . .
Voices woke her. Opening her eyes part way, she saw the room was lit now, and Dazza had settled into her usual armchair by the bed.
"–won’t let you leave the palace," the colonel was saying.
"Why?" Vyrl asked. "Where do they think I’ll go?"
"Nowhere," Dazza said. "That’s not the point. It’s a house arrest. The only reason Ashman let you come down here at all was because now that we know the truth, we realize it’s better for Kamoj. But if you leave the palace, he’ll order your return to the Ascendant."
"What, so he can ‘throw me in the brig himself’?"
The doctor spoke quietly. "He acts in the best interest of the people. Your people."
Vyrl was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I know that. It doesn’t make it any easier."
"If we could settle this mess with Ironbridge, Ashman would be a lot happier."
"Ironbridge doesn’t want to settle. He wants to punish me." Anger edged Vyrl’s voice. "He’s a real piece of work. You would think after five thousand years, the owner genes would have disappeared here."
"Why? Genes aren’t altruistic." Dazza tilted her head. "But you know, about forty-five percent of his DNA traces to slave stock. In some ways he’s the ultimate product of the breeding program. His endurance is incredible. Can you imagine the metabolism he must have? He also has a triple stomach. How does it fit in his body? I would love to examine him. His DNA is like nothing I’ve seen."
"How do you know his DNA so well?" Vyrl asked.
After an awkward pause Dazza said, "From Kamoj."
Vyrl swore. "I can’t believe she’s letting him get away with it. How can she insist we don’t use the evidence against him?"
Dazza answered in a quiet voice. "She and Governor Ironbridge love each other."
"Love, hell."
"They’ve a long history." The doctor paused. "I doubt he was violent all the time. Erratic positive reinforcement can be remarkably effective. The more he withheld his love, the better it must have felt when he finally gave it to her, and the harder she probably tried to attain it."
He made an incredulous noise. "Why isn’t she angry? Why am I the only one who wants to see that bastard drawn and quartered?"
"She is angry," Dazza said. "What do you expect her to do, Vyrl? She’s been in this situation almost her entire life, with no out, at least not in her view, as Argali’s future leader. She probably felt she had to repress her anger for the survival of her people. She’s not going to show it in ways you expect. She might turn it inward, become moody or withdrawn. Or she may lash out at you."
"Me?" He sounded startled. "Why me?"
"Because you’re here." Dazza’s voice gentled. "And because she trusts you. She knows you won’t strike back."
He blew out a gust of air. "What should I do, then?"
"Just be yourself. Doctor Tager is going to work with her, but she will still need time. Don’t pressure her."
"I won’t."
They sat in silence for a while. Then Dazza said, "Gods know, I wish she would press charges."
"Maybe Jax would bargain," Kamoj said.
Dazza jerked at the sound of her voice and Vyrl jumped.
"You’re awake," Vyrl said.
"How are you feeling?" Dazza asked.
"Better." Kamoj regarded her. "If I threaten to ‘press charges’ against Jax, he won’t know I’m bluffing. He might reduce his complaint." It would infuriate him to discover an Inquiry could investigate what he had done with her in his bed. To lose face that way, in front of his people, was something she knew he could never tolerate.
"It might help," Dazza said.
"It will," Kamoj said. She knew Jax.
* * *
Rain drummed the window like an impatient giant. Lightning flashed, followed by a crash of thunder. Kamoj gave up being stoic and slipped out of bed. The beads in the archway clacked when she walked through them. In the main bedroom, rain pattered against the shimmer curtain in the window. As she climbed onto Vyrl’s bed, a flash filled the room, followed by thunder, like a giant clapping his hands around her head. She scrambled under the covers and yanked them up until only her eyes showed.
"Hmmm." Vyrl slid his arms around her. "It’s good to have you back." He sounded half-awake. "I had thought . . . "
"Yes?"
He hesitated. "That you annulled our marriage because you found out I was crazy."
"It isn’t annulled. And you’re not crazy."
"Damaged, then."
"Nothing is wrong with you."
Vyrl opened his eyes. "Don’t look at me with blinders, Kamoj. Just because I haven’t had a drink in a few days doesn’t mean I no longer have a problem. It will be with me for the rest of my life even if I never take a drink again."
"Everyone has problems." She brushed her fingers over his cheek. "Yours are on the outside. Under them, you’re a good person. Jax looks good outside, but underneath he’s cruel. You’re trying to solve your problems and he doesn’t think he has any. He’s the one who is damaged, Vyrl. Not you."
Pressing his lips against her hair, he murmured in a voice so soft, she almost didn’t hear him. It took her a moment to realize he had said thank you, not in words but in her mind. Oddly enough, it felt natural, not alarming at all.
Aloud, all he said was, "I filled out the forms to alter my visa."
"Visa?"
"Permission to let me live on Balumil. Right now it’s a technicality, since I’m in ISC custody. But eventually I will need documents for permanent residence here."
Kamoj stared at him, afraid to hope, afraid she had misheard. "You will live here? Always?"
His face gentled. "Yes. Of course."
"I thought General Ashman wouldn’t let you stay."
"I do have to leave soon, for a while." He shifted her in his arms. "ISC is planning a mission to take my home world of Lyshriol from Earth’s forces. They need me to pull it off, not only because I know Lyshriol, but also because the Lyshrioli people will follow me." Tightly he added, "But ISC can’t hold me for the rest of my life, controlling where I go and what I do. I will come back, Kamoj. Soon."
She made herself ask, "What about your family? Your farm. Your children. Their children." And on down the generations that called him
patriarch. "Your life."
He kissed her forehead. "I’ve already lived that life. Argali needs you, its governor, but my children are all grown."
"Hai, Vyrl." She hugged him, unable to find words to express her appreciation for the gift he had given her. Despite his attempt at nonchalance, she felt the depth of the love he shared with his family and knew how much he would miss them.
Vyrl sighed, holding her close. She turned her head up for his kiss, but he only brushed his lips over her hair. She hesitated, unsure now. Did he no longer want her because of what had happened with Ironbridge? Or because she didn’t feel ready yet to be a wife to him? It unsettled her how much she needed to believe he would still want her when her emotions had healed.
He kissed her forehead. "Of course I do." Awkwardly he said, "You are just so young."
Dryly she said, "You, who married at fourteen, think I’m young?" She touched his cheek. "I’ve no interest in how your legal people count time. I neither think nor love like a child."
Softly he said, "And can you?"
"Can I?"
"Love. Me."
"Hai, Vyrl." Raising his hands to her lips, she kissed his knuckles. "Always."
His smile gentled his face. "I too, water sprite. Always."
For a while she lay in his arms. Then she asked, "Your people take longer to grow up, yes?"
He nodded. "Apparently your bodies pass through childhood faster than ours do. Your brains establish neural connections at a quicker rate, so your minds mature faster."
She could tell he was leaving out something. "But?"
He spoke quietly. "You lose a child’s mental flexibility and learning capacity sooner. It limits your intellectual development. Which was probably the intent. It’s why your people have so much trouble with education, why you struggle with complex concepts, and why you had trouble maintaining a more advanced civilization here."
Disappointment flooded her. "You mean I can never learn to read?"
His voice gentled, "Kamoj, I think you could learn anything you set your mind to."
"I hope so." She laid her head against his and closed her eyes. Thunder rumbled again, more distant now, less threatening . . .
* * *