Liberating Fight Page 4

  Sir Maxwell seated himself behind his desk. He did smile, a friendly expression that would have put Amaya at ease were she not painfully aware of the two strangers behind her. Her fingertips itched with the need to extend her claws in preparation to defend against them. She reminded herself they were likely not warriors, and no threat, but she had not survived this long by making assumptions.

  “Miss Salazar, the assessment of the Inca treasure is complete,” he said. “The total value comes to 432,000 English pounds, of which you will receive half of ten percent. I hope that is acceptable.”

  As Amaya had not demanded any share in the treasure, this struck her as an odd statement, but she put it down to English politeness. “I am thankful,” she said. “But it is good the Sapa Inca does not know. It is danger, to take his gold.”

  “We are not afraid of savages,” one of the strangers said. Amaya turned in her seat and observed it was the round man who had spoken. His hair was damp with perspiration along the hairline, though the room was comfortably warm rather than hot. Amaya suppressed the urge to show him why “savages” were to be feared.

  “My people are not savage,” she said, as politely as she could manage, “and you do not know that all gold is the Sapa Inca’s to his people. They are not permitted to have it. But you are not Inca, and it is, how do you say it, spoils of war, yes?”

  Sir Maxwell cleared his throat. “I would not put it precisely that way,” he said, “but as I understand it, that treasure room is lost to the Incas, and someone might as well take advantage of it.”

  “The question is moot,” Edmund said, “as we have retrieved it already, and there is no way to return it.”

  Sir Maxwell looked grateful for Edmund’s interruption. “Naturally,” he said. “So, Miss Salazar, if I could have you sign this document, accepting payment?”

  Amaya read the document, or tried to; it was in language impenetrable to her imperfect grasp of English. She pushed it over to Edmund, who took his time reading it, to the point that Sir Maxwell said, “I hope you do not believe we would cheat an Extraordinary.”

  “Of course not. But you would not sign anything you did not know the full contents of, sir,” Edmund said. Sir Maxwell had to concede the point.

  Eventually, Edmund handed the paper back to Amaya with a nod. Amaya accepted a pen from Sir Maxwell and carefully wrote her name where he indicated. Sir Maxwell countersigned and put the paper away in his desk.

  “There is one remaining matter,” he said. “May I make known to you Mr. Fenton and Lord Baxter, both of the War Office. I beg your pardon, I should have introduced them when you entered.”

  Sir Maxwell’s last words sounded too casual, and his eyes would not meet Amaya’s. She realized it had been no accident; he had intended that Amaya not know their identities immediately. Why, she could not imagine, because she had no relationship with the War Office and certainly did not fear these men, either in their military roles or in their persons.

  She turned to face them and said, “Is it that you wish to speak to me, gentlemen?”

  Mr. Fenton’s rosy cheeks rounded more fully as he smiled. It was an expression that did not suit him, despite how cheerful he looked; it was closer to baring the teeth. “Miss Salazar, you have English family, is that correct?”

  Stunned, Amaya blurted out, “I do not know how you know this. It is not public.”

  “Then you admit to concealing this information?” Lord Baxter said. He did not bother smiling.

  “Do not harass Miss Salazar,” Edmund said sharply. He no longer looked like a gentleman of leisure; his coolly relaxed pose reminded Amaya of a jaguar waiting to pounce. “If you have something to say, out with it.”

  The men ignored him. “Miss Salazar, you are of English birth, and as an Extraordinary Shaper, you come under the direction of the War Office,” Mr. Fenton said. “You owe the government four years’ service. Failure to comply comes with it penalties, among them a heavy fine.”

  Amaya did not know all his words, but his meaning was clear. She was unsure whether they wanted her service, or her money for failing to give service, but it was obvious they intended to extract something from her. “I am not English,” she began.

  “I hope you would not be so dishonorable as to attempt to shirk your duty,” Lord Baxter said. “We know the Neville family are your relations.”

  “You were raised in foreign lands, so we choose to believe you were unaware of this obligation,” Mr. Fenton said. “But now that you are aware, we will require you to report to the War Office immediately to begin your service.”

  Amaya felt overwhelmed by all the rapid talk in English. She knew they were wrong, but she lacked the linguistic skills to challenge them. “You are wrong, and I believe you are trying to trick me,” she said in Spanish, feeling desperate.

  “That is enough,” Edmund said, rising to confront the two men. “Your argument is void. Miss Salazar’s father was Spanish, not English, and by both Spanish and English law this makes Miss Salazar a Spanish citizen. Attempting to confuse and deceive her is a despicable act.”

  Mr. Fenton’s rosy cheeks paled. Lord Baxter glared at Edmund. “The law is not so definite as you suggest,” he said. “We are willing to take Miss Salazar to court to claim our rights.”

  “You want my talent?” Amaya said. “You cannot make me use it.”

  “We can, and we will,” Lord Baxter said. “Or we will see you punished.”

  Amaya stood, shoving her chair back. “You may try.”

  Lord Baxter stood his ground, but his skinny throat moved as he swallowed convulsively. “You would not dare attack me.”

  Amaya’s lips curled ferociously. “I am an Extraordinary. It is you would be at fault.”

  “Please, Miss Salazar, Lord Baxter,” Sir Maxwell said. His voice trembled, and he placed both hands on his desktop as if he needed their support. “We are civilized people. We can come to an agreement. Miss Salazar, I do not wish to be crass, but England has awarded you a fortune. Surely you feel some gratitude for that?”

  Amaya turned on him, snarling, her claws extended. “You give a gift and then you demand I repay it? And you think my people are the savages?”

  Sir Maxwell stilled dramatically. His eyes twitched like those of a mouse who had just seen the hawk’s shadow.

  “Miss Salazar, I beg of you, remain calm,” Edmund said. In Spanish, he added, “If you turn your claws on these men, you will seem rash and ungoverned, and the English will fear you. Is that what you desire?”

  Amaya turned her gaze on Edmund. “They wish to use me for their purposes.”

  “I know. They see your power and think only of how it might be turned to their need. Will you permit me to negotiate for you?”

  “Negotiate? As if I were a parcel of land?”

  Edmund grimaced. “No. You have talent, and you will choose how you use it. If you will permit me, I will see if I can turn this to your benefit rather than theirs.”

  Amaya hesitated, then nodded. “But I am not their property.”

  “I assure you, I will not permit them to treat you as such.” Edmund turned to Lord Baxter. “May I ask, my lord, why the War Office is so determined? I was under the impression Napoleon was no longer a threat.”

  “Napoleon has vanished,” Lord Baxter said. “His officers refuse to say where he has gone, and our Discerners believe those men do not know. Wellesley—I should say, the Duke of Wellington—brought the Army into France, and its advance no doubt made Napoleon fear for his control over his soldiers, hence his disappearance. But the War Office is not so foolish as to believe this means the end of the war. We will maintain our vigilance, and that includes continuing to require service of all our Extraordinaries.”

  “Regardless of your nationality, you owe England a debt, Miss Salazar,” Mr. Fenton said. “One which you may repay with service, or with a fine to buy yourself free.”

  Amaya had never heard this suggested before. She opened her mouth to tell the men s
he did not care about her fortune and they were welcome to it, but Edmund overrode her. “It is unworthy of the War Office to make such a blatant grab for Miss Salazar’s fortune. But I believe that is not what you are truly interested in, is it? Did Dr. Macrae speak with you?”

  Now both men shifted uncomfortably. “Dr. Macrae is a powerful advocate,” Mr. Fenton said.

  “She is powerfully determined to see Miss Salazar at Norwood College,” Edmund corrected him. “And I believe Extraordinary Shapers with the War Office serve as battlefield doctors and surgeons, is that correct?”

  Mr. Fenton nodded. Lord Baxter eyed Edmund as if wondering what trick Edmund intended to play.

  “But Miss Salazar has little medical training, and that of a very specialized nature,” Edmund continued. “If she were to enter the War Office, she would either be useless in the field, or she would have to gain medical training at Norwood, which would also remove her from direct service. In short, Miss Salazar’s talent cannot be usefully employed with the War Office in a traditional role.”

  “And I suppose you have a nontraditional role in mind?” Lord Baxter sneered.

  “Miss Salazar’s medical experience is as a childbed attendant,” Edmund said as if Lord Baxter had not spoken. “She has attended the deliveries of many women, including the Sapa Inca’s wives and my own sister-in-law.”

  “I fail to see how that benefits the War Office,” Mr. Fenton said.

  “Perhaps you are unaware that Lord and Lady Enderleigh have been made ambassadors to the court of King Ferdinand of Spain.” Edmund crossed his arms over his chest, once more the very picture of a gentleman at ease if one could not see his narrowed, intent eyes. “Lady Enderleigh is in a delicate condition and requires an Extraordinary Shaper to attend upon her, now and at the birth of her child. The Extraordinary Shaper attached to their ship must remain with the Royal Navy, leaving Lady Enderleigh without that resource to call on. And I am certain she would prefer a female physician.”

  “But Lord Enderleigh is an admiral with the Navy, not attached to the War Office. Such service as Miss Salazar would provide does not apply to the law.” Lord Baxter took a step forward. He no longer sounded angry.

  “I believe, if the War Office chooses, it might find a way around that difficulty. After all, Lady Enderleigh would have been attached to the War Office had she not voluntarily joined the Royal Navy.” Edmund turned his attention on the silent Mr. Fenton. “Unless you wish to suggest that her ladyship is not deserving of some consideration, given her, ah, extraordinary service to the war effort?”

  Mr. Fenton paled even more. “I would never criticize Lady Enderleigh. No, I believe you are correct. Miss Salazar may serve her term as attendant to her ladyship.”

  “You are mistaken,” Edmund said. His words were polite, but there was steel behind them. “As I have said, Miss Salazar is not an English citizen. She owes you no service. Instead, she will turn her talent to assisting Lady Enderleigh as a token of her esteem for this country, which has shown her such hospitality and generosity.”

  All four men turned their attention on Amaya, who sank back into her chair. She did not know this Lady Enderleigh of whom they all spoke so respectfully, and she was not certain she wished to be her childbed attendant. On the other hand, she had come to trust Edmund over the months she had been his family’s guest, and he would not have suggested this course of action had he not believed it would suit her. And she had fully understood his final words and appreciated their force.

  “It is true I am fond of England,” she said, “and I wish to help so long as I am not forced. This Lady Enderleigh, she is an Extraordinary?”

  Mr. Fenton and Lord Baxter looked at each other, their faces very still as if holding back some strong emotion. “Lady Enderleigh is England’s only Extraordinary Scorcher,” Lord Baxter said. “The Countess is one of this country’s strongest talents. I had not heard of the Earl’s new assignment. Surely Admiral Lord Enderleigh is needed at sea?”

  Edmund shrugged. “I am merely a translator attached to the ambassadorial party, and not privy to the government’s decisions.”

  Amaya eyed him suspiciously. She was certain Edmund, in protesting that he was only a translator, was dissembling. He once more gave the impression of being nothing more than a harmless fop, but no fop could have argued so persuasively on her behalf. And yet she was certain if she challenged him on the discrepancy between his demeanor and his actions, he would look at her with an ingenuous expression and pretend not to understand her meaning. That he meant to seem foolish was clear, but she could not imagine why.

  Sir Maxwell cleared his throat, drawing Amaya’s attention back to the present. “We seem to have come to an accord,” he said. “Miss Salazar, thank you for your service. England is indeed grateful.”

  “I am happy to be asked,” Amaya said, emphasizing asked just enough for Sir Maxwell’s complexion to redden. “Mr. Fenton, Lord Baxter.” She refrained from thanking them; she still did not believe they meant well, and it was only Edmund’s presence that kept her from snarling at them.

  When they were safely outside the Treasury, and Edmund had hailed a hackney, Amaya said in Spanish, “I cannot believe they dared threaten me. I understood my talent would protect me.”

  “They hoped to take advantage of your ignorance,” Edmund said. He helped Amaya into the carriage and settled himself opposite her. “Feel free to thank me at any time.”

  “Thank you, Edmund,” Amaya said sweetly. “I suppose you will not tell me where you learned to argue so persuasively? Your club, perhaps?”

  It was a strong hint. Edmund simply raised both eyebrows and regarded her blandly. “I do not take your meaning,” he said, smiling in the carefree way she now knew concealed a subtle mind. “I did only as anyone might.”

  Amaya considered pressing the issue more, but decided if Edmund had secrets, she owed it to him as a friend not to pry. After all, she herself had things she did not wish to share with the world. She dropped her falsely pleasant demeanor and said, “They were uncivil to make such a blatant grab for power.”

  “They were. And I regret that you were drawn into it. In truth, I almost wished I dared let you handle them your way. They should learn what it is to challenge a jaguar warrior. But, as I said, it would not be good for them to fear you. Fear is the sort of thing that leads men to act rashly.”

  “I fail to understand that, but I cannot recall ever being mastered by fear.”

  Edmund’s eyebrows rose. He gripped the seat firmly as the hackney bumped over a particularly rough patch in the road. “No? Not even facing Uturunku?”

  Amaya shrugged. “I knew I could defeat him. There is no sense in fearing an enemy weaker than yourself.”

  “I find that astonishing—not that you were stronger than Uturunku, but that you have never feared. What of the raiders who destroyed your home?”

  A flash of memory struck her and vanished, leaving only the impression of hiding in a cupboard, her heart beating so hard she could hear it. She looked at the passing streets and the pedestrians enjoying the sunny day. “I suppose,” she said in a low voice, “it is more accurate to say I have feared nothing since I became a jaguar warrior.”

  Edmund nodded, but said nothing. It was one of the things she liked most about him, that he knew when not to speak. For all he pretended to whimsical frivolity for no reason she could understand, he was the most sensible man she knew.

  “Tell me of this Lady Enderleigh,” she said. “You are so certain I will be acceptable to her as an attendant?”

  The carriage jarred them again, leaving Amaya wondering what route they had taken that was so rough. Edmund leaned backward to keep his seat. “She is unusual,” he said. “She and the Earl were not born to the nobility, but granted their titles for services rendered the Crown. I have met her only a few times, but she is unlike other Scorchers, who are erratic of temperament and tend to wildness. Are Inca Scorchers the same?”

  “They can be. Wildne
ss is discouraged, and those who show themselves to be incapable of or unwilling to control their talent are executed.”

  “I see. At any rate, Lady Enderleigh is poised, moderate in her speech, a very calm individual. One has the sense that she has mastered herself through great effort. She has a kind temperament and is deeply attached to her husband, who is devoted to her in turn.” Edmund hesitated, then said, “When you meet the Earl, do not display distress at his appearance. He is severely scarred from burns.”

  “That is ironic, given that Lady Enderleigh is a Scorcher.”

  “Not ironic. She is the one who burned him.”

  Amaya gasped.

  “I do not know the full story, only that he was burned fighting for her life. But it is a sensitive subject you should not allude to, even indirectly. His lordship takes great offense at any suggestion of criticism of his lady wife.” Edmund’s expression was as serious as she had ever seen.

  “I would not be so impolite,” Amaya said. “But you have not said why you believe she will accept your offer to make me her attendant.”

  A smile drove the serious expression away. “Because the two of you are very much alike,” he said. “You are both dangerous in your own way, and simultaneously without malice toward any innocent person. I believe Lady Enderleigh will be curious about a woman such as you are, and as you are of the same rank, due to your talents, I hope you will become friends. I do not believe Lady Enderleigh has had much opportunity to gain friends during her years of naval service.”

  “You said she volunteered to join the Royal Navy.”

  “Her story is legendary. Perhaps she will share it with you.”

  The carriage bumped to a halt outside the Hanleys’ home. Edmund gave Amaya his hand to help her down. She had almost become accustomed to this, given the narrowness of English skirts and how readily they tangled one’s legs. “And you know of her because you are to translate for their party,” she said. “Is that why you are leaving the country?”