‘No,’ whispered Tenaka.
In a blur of motion she sprang from the fallen trunk. His arms came up as she hit him and he fell to the snow, air exploding from his lungs. Within seconds she had pinned him to the ground. He struggled, but could not move. Holding his arms flat to the snow, she twisted her body until she was lying on top of him, her face inches from his own.
‘He blended me with a panther,’ she said.
‘I would still have believed it if you had merely said it,’ he told her. ‘The demonstration was unnecessary.’
‘Not for me,’ said Renya. ‘For now I have you at my mercy.’
He grinned . . . arched his back and twisted. With a scream of surprise Renya was hurled to the left. Tenaka swivelled and dived on her, pinning her arms beneath her.
‘I am seldom at anyone’s mercy, young lady,’ he said.
‘Well?’ she asked him, raising an eyebrow. ‘Now what will you do?’
His face reddened and he did not answer. Nor did be move. He could feel the warmth of her body, smell the perfume of her skin.
‘I love you,’ she said. ‘Truly!’
‘I have no time, I cannot. I have no future.’
‘Neither do I. What is there for a Joining? Kiss me.’
‘No.’
‘Please?’
He did not answer. He could not. For their lips touched.
4
Scaler stood in the crowd and watched the girl as they tied her to the stake. She did not struggle or cry out, and only contempt showed in her eyes. She was tall and fair-haired – not beautiful, but striking. As the guards piled brushwood against her legs they did not look at her, and Scaler sensed their shame.
It matched his own.
The officer climbed to the wooden platform beside the girl and surveyed the crowd. He felt their sullen anger wash over him and rejoiced in it. They were powerless.
Malif adjusted his crimson cloak and removed his helm, tucking it neatly into the crook of his arm. The sunshine felt good and the day promised to be fine. Very fine.
He cleared his throat.
‘This woman has been accused of sedition, witchcraft, dealing in poisons and theft. On all counts she has been righteously condemned. But if there be any to speak for her, let them do so now!’
His eyes flickered to the left, where a movement began among the watchers. An old man was being restrained by a younger. No sport there!
Malif swept his arms to the right, pointing at a Joining in the red and bronze livery of Silius the Magister.
‘This servant of the law has been appointed to defend the decision of the court. If any should wish to champion the girl, Valtaya, let him first gaze upon his opponent.’
Scaler gripped Belder’s arm. ‘Don’t be a fool!’ he hissed. ‘You will be killed; I will not allow it.’
‘Better to die than see this,’ said the old soldier. But he ceased to struggle and with a weary sigh turned away and pushed his way back through the crowd.
Scaler glanced up at the girl. Her grey eyes were looking into his and she was smiling. There was no hint of mockery in the smile.
‘I am sorry,’ he mouthed, but she had looked away.
‘May I speak?’ she asked, her voice clear and strong.
Malif turned to her. ‘The law says that you may, but let there be nothing seditious in your words or I shall have you gagged.’
‘My friends,’ she began, ‘I am sorry to see you here today. Death means nothing but the absence of joy is worse than death. Most of you I know. And I love you all. Please go from here and remember me as you knew me. Think of the laughter and put this evil moment from your minds.’
‘No need for that, lady!’ someone shouted. The crowd parted and a tall man dressed in black moved to the open space before the pyre.
Valtaya looked down into the man’s bright blue eyes. His face was covered by a mask of shining black leather and she wondered if a man with such beautiful eyes could possibly be the executioner.