The Winner's Crime(9)

“Who do you think hired him?”

“The east, perhaps. They must have spies among us.”

“Oh, they do.” The emperor held her gaze in a way that didn’t wait for an answer, but to see if she would voice what he already believed.

“He worked for Herran,” Kestrel said slowly.

“Of course. Tell me, is their leader an inspiring sort of man? I’ve never met him. But you were his prisoner. Would you say that this new governor has … charisma? The sort of pull and power that lure people to take extreme risks on his behalf?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“I have something to show you.” He pointed at the drawer he had closed. “Bring what lies inside.”

It was a gold coin stamped with the emperor’s profile.

“I had this series minted in celebration of your engagement,” he said. “Turn the coin over.”

Kestrel did. What she saw left her frightened. It was a symbol of crossed knitting needles.

“Do you know what that is?”

Kestrel hesitated to speak. “It’s the sign of Jadis.”

“Yes. The perfect story, I think, to represent you.”

Jadis had been a warrior girl from ancient Valorian legend. A lieutenant. Her army had been defeated, and she was taken prisoner by an enemy warlord who added her to his harem. He liked all his women, but developed a particular taste for the Valorian girl. He was not, however, stupid. He summoned her to his bed naked, so that she had no chance to hide a weapon. And he had her bound as well, at least at first. He didn’t trust her hands.

But Jadis was sweet and easy, and as time passed and the warlord’s camp traveled, he noticed that she had become friends with the other women in his harem. They taught her how to knit. Sometimes, when not at battle, he saw her outside the women’s tent, knitting something shapeless. It amused him to know that the reputation of Valorian ferocity was nothing more than myth. How domestic was his little warrior!

“What’s that?” he asked.

“It’s for you,” Jadis said. “You’ll like it, you’ll see.”

The woolly thing grew over the months. It became a private joke between them. He would ask if it was meant to be a sock, a tunic, a cloak. Her answer was always the same: “You’ll like it, you’ll see.”

One night, in the warlord’s tent, long after he’d stopped ordering her hands to be bound, he gazed upon her. “Do you know which battle comes tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Jadis said. The warlord planned to strike at the heart of Valoria. He would likely succeed.

“You must hate me for it.”

“No.”

The word brought tears to his eyes. He wanted to weep against her skin. He did not believe her.

“My love,” she said, “I have almost finished your present. Let me knit it here beside you. It will bring you luck in battle.”

That made him laugh, for he couldn’t possibly imagine how she expected him to wear that ugly, lumpy mass of wool. He was cheered as he remembered how dedicated she was to her hapless knitting. So what if she had no skill for it? It was proof of her devotion to him.

He went to the tent’s opening and called for her knitting basket.

He set it beside the bed and enjoyed her again. Afterward, she knitted beside him. The warlord was made sleepy by the needles’ quiet chatter. “Aren’t you finished yet?” he teased.

“Yes. Just now I’ve finished.”

“But what is it?”

“Don’t you see? Don’t you like it? Look closely, my love.”

He did, and Jadis stabbed her needles into his throat.

The coin lay heavy on Kestrel’s palm. All the breath had gone out of her.

The emperor said, “We were talking earlier about your captivity under Arin.”

“It wasn’t like this.” She tightened her fingers around the coin. “I’m no Jadis.”

“No? The governor, I hear, is an attractive man.”

“I didn’t think so.” She hadn’t, not at first. How miserable that she hadn’t seen Arin for what he was, how worse when she did understand it, and how perfectly awful now, when he was lost to her and the emperor was asking for her secrets. “He was never my lover. Never.”

That much was true. The sound of her voice must have convinced the emperor, or the way she clutched the coin. His response came gently: “I believe you. But what if I didn’t? Would it matter if the slave had shared your bed? Oh, Kestrel. Don’t look at me with such shock. Do you think that I’m a prude? I’ve heard the rumors. Everyone has.” He stood, and came near to tap the fist she had closed around the coin. “That’s why you need Jadis. This is a gift. If the capital thinks you favored the governor of Herran, let them think that it was for a purpose.

“You made a choice when you stood before me and pleaded for Herrani independence. You chose my son. You chose my cause.” He shrugged. “I’m a pragmatist. I had no desire to mire myself in a battle with Herran when the east beckons. Your solution—Herran’s new status as an independent territory of the empire—has been politically costly in some ways … but valuable in others. And militarily necessary. An added benefit? The military loves me now that its general’s daughter will marry my son.