Cold Steel
Page 7
“I think you know who they are,” he replied. “Fire in the wrong hands is a reckless weapon that destroys. In the hands of responsible people, fire heals. It can also offer a means to restrain the hearts of malevolent persons who disrupt the harmonious balance of society. The punishment for murder is that you lose the privilege to walk freely in a peaceful society and must serve it instead. That is why murderers are required to work in the cane fields, or to become catch-fires.”
A shiver of doubt crept its icy fingers down my spine. I felt it wisest to say nothing.
The prince curled his hand into a fist, dousing the flame. “Catherine Bell Barahal, upon my authority as heir to the Taino kingdom, and with the permission of the provisional Assembly that rules Expedition Territory, I place you under arrest for the murder of the cacica, Anacaona.”
I found a bland smile in my store of weapons, and I brandished it. “I’ll go quietly with you, Prince Caonabo, under this condition. Promise on your honor as prince and future cacique of the Taino that you, and any and all of your court and subjects and hirelings, will not harm, persecute, or arrest any person living in this household now or ever. The people living here must never face retaliation for having sheltered me.”
He gave my words thoughtful consideration. “On the honor of my ancestors and on the honor of my own person, I give my word that I and all those who are subject to my authority will not now or ever harm, persecute, or arrest any person living in this household.”
“Give me a moment, if you please.”
I walked over to the kitchen shelter. Aunty had already sent the children into one of the rooms to get them out of the way.
“Aunty, can you quickly put together a satchel of food for me? My skirt and jacket, from my room. And the cloth sleeve for my cane.”
Aunty called over her daughter Brenna and gave her instructions, then took hold of my arm. “Do the prince mean to see yee brought to trial even though he is married to yee own cousin?”
“I’m not sure what to think. Please let Bee and Rory know what’s happened.”
Uncle Joe stepped in under the kitchen roof. His glare was enough to make my eyes water, since I knew he was upset because he cared for me. “Cat, what arseness is this yee’s playing at? I reckon the new Assembly ought better protect a gal who cut off the head of the Taino invasion.”
“Lawyers might say so. That was a long time ago.”
“That it was a long time ago doesn’t change the law. I’ve extracted a promise from the prince that he will never harass or harm anyone who lives here.”
Uncle Joe’s grip was hard, and yet because it was so, I felt heartened. “Don’ forget, gal, that in the eyes of many folk here in Expedition, ’twas the death of the cacica that freed us from the old Council’s unjust rule. When she died and the Taino had to withdraw, that was when the Assemblymen had a chance to overthrow the Council and change the government of Expedition.”
“Yee shall find people aplenty in Expedition these days who shall fight to keep yee safe, gal,” said Aunty. “Don’ think otherwise.”
“Believe me, I won’t let them kill me.”
Uncle frowned. “The Taino rule the Sea of Antilles. Don’ make the mistake of thinking them weak. Their behiques is the most powerful of all. I reckon yee don’ truly understand how far the power of Taino fire mages can reach.”
“I have my own secrets. Anyway, I can’t die, for if I did, then who would rescue Vai?” Overwhelmed by longing for the home I had so unexpectedly found at the boardinghouse, I kissed her smooth cheek and his rough one. “But I don’t know what will happen after.”
Uncle Joe sighed. “I shall fetch yee some provision.” He went back to the counter and returned with two flasks, one filled with ginger beer and one with rum.
Aunty looked through the satchel prepared for me with flat rounds of cassava bread, unpeeled guava, jerked chicken, and a gourd filled with rice and peas. “Come back to us if yee can.”
I slid my ghost-sword into a sleeve of cloth to hide it from trolls and fire mages, made my farewells, and joined the prince at the gate.
Caonabo indicated a low-slung carriage waiting on the street. I climbed to the back bench seat, which was shaded by a hood but open to the air. Prince Caonabo sat on the facing seat.
The carriage rolled down a street illuminated by gaslight. Hooves clopped on cobblestones.