Cold Steel

He opened the book.

“That’s Bee’s sketchbook!” I exclaimed. “The one you stole from her!”

The page was a jumble of images drawn in Bee’s vivid style: a winged horse galloping across waves; the famous twinned bronze pillars known to stand in the temple of Melqart outside the city of Gadir in Iberia; a black saber-toothed cat; nine half-moons. And a pretty little portrait of me from the back, holding by the hair the decapitated head of Queen Anacaona as I looked over my shoulder as if in flight from a pursuer.

“Gah.” I reached across him to turn the page, for the gruesome detail took me aback.

He pulled the book away from me. “The White Horse is a ship that will sail to Gadir from the quay known by its pillars of Heracles, which to the Phoenicians are known to be the pillars in the temple of Melqart at Gadir. On the Nones of November, the fifth day of November, which is today, the fugitive accused of the murder of the cacica will arrive at the quay with her brother.”

“Why nine moons when November isn’t the ninth month? And why the half-moon?”

“In the early Roman calendar, November was the ninth month. Nones refers to the day of the half-moon. If you don’t know that, you can’t make use of the dream.”

“You could just have guessed I might have tried to escape on a Phoenician ship leaving before the tide turns.”

Taino soldiers parted ranks to allow a frowning Prince Caonabo to come forward.

The general indicated me. “Your Highness. I told you I would find her. With this one, you really need to use a rope if you want to capture her.”

He whistled. In his first war his army had been famed for its Amazon Corps, women who fought with more ferocity than men. My mother, Tara Bell, had been a captain in his Amazon Corps, and she had been condemned to death for the crime of becoming pregnant, with me. A woman dressed in soldier’s garb walked forward. Captain Tira sheathed her falcata and unlooped a length of rope. It had a noose, to go around my neck.

“Yee cannot be serious!” said Kofi.

Rory snarled.

Camjiata smiled, as if he hoped I would do something reckless.

Luce, Kofi, and the men of Kofi’s household were fenced in. No doubt they would be charged with aiding and abetting a fugitive.

“Your Highness, I’ll come quietly,” I said to Prince Caonabo, “if you will agree to let these people go free, no questions asked, no grudge held, no charges brought.”

“So have I already agreed,” the prince replied. “All but your brother may go without prejudice.”

“Kofi, just go,” I said, for by the gritting of his teeth I could see his frustration building.

His eyes flared as he gestured for his kinfolk to depart, but he went. Luce flung her arms around Rory, who peeled her off and pushed her after the others. The soldiers made an opening for them to push out their carts. A crowd had begun to gather on the jetty, mostly laborers headed for work or women carrying wood or water to their homes.

“An ugly crowd,” said Camjiata. “Best we make our way to Council Hall quickly, Your Highness. We need only leash the girl. The young man will follow her.”

No longer pretending to smile, he dropped the noose over my neck. The coarse sailor’s hemp chafed my skin.

The prince’s open carriage rolled out from behind Nance’s. I clothed myself in as much dignity as I could gather and stepped up into it. Rory walked behind the carriage to keep an eye on everyone. I wondered if it was his usual position in the hunt when he and his mother, aunt, and sisters prowled the spirit world in search of their next meal.

Prince Caonabo sat facing me. Camjiata sat next to me, holding the rope.

As the driver snapped the reins and the horses moved forward, the Taino soldiers paced in disciplined ranks. The general’s Iberian veterans had more of a swagger. Sailors and laborers gathered at slips and quays to stare, and women and wagons moved aside to let us pass. A gaggle of young toughs shadowed us.

“Why have you involved yourself in this inquiry, General?” I asked politely, even if I really wanted to bite and claw.

“Cat, I am not your enemy. Please be assured that Tara Bell’s child will always have a home with me if she needs shelter. I want only to protect you.” I had never met a man who could speak in such sentimental platitudes and yet have it sound so genuine and unforced. It was one of the most irritating things about him.

“Protect me? You betrayed me!”

“The cacica was required by law to exile you to Salt Island. What you don’t understand is that Salt Island was the safest place for you at that time.”