Cold Steel
Page 163
“No,” said the mansa, at the same time as I said, “No!”
Vai’s rigid posture did not ease. “Mansa, I have some concern over how my mother and sisters will be received at Four Moons House if there is no one there to see to their comfort, nurse my mother properly, and protect them from disrespect.”
“Be sure I recognize your concern, Andevai. At my request and command, Serena will take charge of ensuring they be received in all ways appropriate to my heir. Understand that disrespect shown to them is now the same as disrespect shown to me.”
“The girls should be allowed to take lessons,” I said. “Even if they have no cold magic—and of course that is not yet determined—they should be educated as any girl in the House would be. Wasa should be treated no differently just because she’s undersized and her legs don’t work well. She’s a very intelligent girl, and it would be a mistake to allow her to languish. Forcing her to study will also keep her out of mischief. Also, the crutch she has been using is too short and heavy. I asked several times if it might be replaced with something better, but the attendants said they had no authority to replace it. If she had one made to fit her frame she would be able to get around more easily and that would allow her to gain strength.”
The mansa lifted his cup to indicate that I had not anticipated that he needed more coffee. “It has come to my notice, Andevai,” he said, ignoring me as I poured, “that your wife has a mouth on her, as I would have crudely said when I was a lad.”
“Yes, Mansa.”
“Are you going to teach her to curb her tongue?”
“Mansa, it is her place to determine whether and when she speaks, not mine.”
“Are you going to continue talking about me as if I am not here?” I demanded.
“Curbing her tongue would surely be a difficult task for anyone,” said the mansa. “Some of that cream, if you will, Catherine. As you put on yours. I want to try it. Andevai, you have not touched your cup.”
“No, Mansa.” He picked up the cup, looked at it, and set it down without drinking.
“You don’t eat enough,” added the mansa, “as I have had cause to observe.”
“I tell him the same thing,” I said promptly. “Would you prefer tea, Husband?”
He shot me an accusing look, and the mansa actually chuckled.
Blessed Tanit protect me! A few more steps down this road and I might start believing it was possible to like him, the cunning architect of our prison! Perhaps it was only coincidence or perhaps Noble Ba’al saw fit to remind me that I stood garbed in false clothes in the palace of my enemy, for a rumble like thunder drifted in the distance.
Vai leaped to his feet.
The mansa rose. “See to your family, Andevai. I want them on the road within the hour.”
As I held away the curtain for him to leave, I puzzled at the blue sky, where I saw not a trace of storm cloud.
“How can it be thundering?” I said to Vai.
“It’s not thunder. It’s cannon.”
Servants hurried in. They stripped the table bare with the speed of locusts. A manservant appeared with a fresh set of clothing, including a brown-and-gold dash jacket I hadn’t seen since we’d had to abandon most of Vai’s garments in Adurnam.
“Gracious Melqart, Vai! How did you get your clothes back?”
Vai stepped behind a screen to dress. “The mansa had them delivered to me one day. I admit, I was surprised. I had riding clothes made for you, love, so we can go out today.”
A woman helped me into a split skirt cut in an exceedingly practical and flattering style with buttons down the front, and a long jacket in an amber-brown challis. Expensive calfskin gloves and a saucy hussar’s shako crowned by a jaunty feather completed the ensemble, although it was Vai’s smiling admiration that made me preen.
We traversed the garden on a path of white gravel through a stand of ornamental fruit trees. Bintou and Wasa sat on a bench by a fountain, playing with an adorable puppy that licked their faces as they giggled. They were wearing new clothes, neatly made and brightly colored.
“Vai! Cat!” they shrieked, seeing us. Bintou leaped up and ran to him while Wasa bounced on the bench in excitement. Vai released Bintou to pick up Wasa’s crutch and give it a frowning examination. Then he carried Wasa into the breakfast room, where his mother sat on a couch, watching our arrival through the glass. She, too, wore new clothing. When he knelt before her in greeting, she did not effuse over him but merely laid a hand on his head. Excluded, the girls swarmed me. I held one in the curve of each arm and watched as he raised his head to address her.
Vai’s rigid posture did not ease. “Mansa, I have some concern over how my mother and sisters will be received at Four Moons House if there is no one there to see to their comfort, nurse my mother properly, and protect them from disrespect.”
“Be sure I recognize your concern, Andevai. At my request and command, Serena will take charge of ensuring they be received in all ways appropriate to my heir. Understand that disrespect shown to them is now the same as disrespect shown to me.”
“The girls should be allowed to take lessons,” I said. “Even if they have no cold magic—and of course that is not yet determined—they should be educated as any girl in the House would be. Wasa should be treated no differently just because she’s undersized and her legs don’t work well. She’s a very intelligent girl, and it would be a mistake to allow her to languish. Forcing her to study will also keep her out of mischief. Also, the crutch she has been using is too short and heavy. I asked several times if it might be replaced with something better, but the attendants said they had no authority to replace it. If she had one made to fit her frame she would be able to get around more easily and that would allow her to gain strength.”
The mansa lifted his cup to indicate that I had not anticipated that he needed more coffee. “It has come to my notice, Andevai,” he said, ignoring me as I poured, “that your wife has a mouth on her, as I would have crudely said when I was a lad.”
“Yes, Mansa.”
“Are you going to teach her to curb her tongue?”
“Mansa, it is her place to determine whether and when she speaks, not mine.”
“Are you going to continue talking about me as if I am not here?” I demanded.
“Curbing her tongue would surely be a difficult task for anyone,” said the mansa. “Some of that cream, if you will, Catherine. As you put on yours. I want to try it. Andevai, you have not touched your cup.”
“No, Mansa.” He picked up the cup, looked at it, and set it down without drinking.
“You don’t eat enough,” added the mansa, “as I have had cause to observe.”
“I tell him the same thing,” I said promptly. “Would you prefer tea, Husband?”
He shot me an accusing look, and the mansa actually chuckled.
Blessed Tanit protect me! A few more steps down this road and I might start believing it was possible to like him, the cunning architect of our prison! Perhaps it was only coincidence or perhaps Noble Ba’al saw fit to remind me that I stood garbed in false clothes in the palace of my enemy, for a rumble like thunder drifted in the distance.
Vai leaped to his feet.
The mansa rose. “See to your family, Andevai. I want them on the road within the hour.”
As I held away the curtain for him to leave, I puzzled at the blue sky, where I saw not a trace of storm cloud.
“How can it be thundering?” I said to Vai.
“It’s not thunder. It’s cannon.”
Servants hurried in. They stripped the table bare with the speed of locusts. A manservant appeared with a fresh set of clothing, including a brown-and-gold dash jacket I hadn’t seen since we’d had to abandon most of Vai’s garments in Adurnam.
“Gracious Melqart, Vai! How did you get your clothes back?”
Vai stepped behind a screen to dress. “The mansa had them delivered to me one day. I admit, I was surprised. I had riding clothes made for you, love, so we can go out today.”
A woman helped me into a split skirt cut in an exceedingly practical and flattering style with buttons down the front, and a long jacket in an amber-brown challis. Expensive calfskin gloves and a saucy hussar’s shako crowned by a jaunty feather completed the ensemble, although it was Vai’s smiling admiration that made me preen.
We traversed the garden on a path of white gravel through a stand of ornamental fruit trees. Bintou and Wasa sat on a bench by a fountain, playing with an adorable puppy that licked their faces as they giggled. They were wearing new clothes, neatly made and brightly colored.
“Vai! Cat!” they shrieked, seeing us. Bintou leaped up and ran to him while Wasa bounced on the bench in excitement. Vai released Bintou to pick up Wasa’s crutch and give it a frowning examination. Then he carried Wasa into the breakfast room, where his mother sat on a couch, watching our arrival through the glass. She, too, wore new clothing. When he knelt before her in greeting, she did not effuse over him but merely laid a hand on his head. Excluded, the girls swarmed me. I held one in the curve of each arm and watched as he raised his head to address her.
