Some days later, on a sunny afternoon, I read sentences aloud as the girls wrote them out on slate tablets. Vai’s mother rested on her bed. In this isolated wing of the huge complex, the sounds and smells of each day had a familiar rhythm as the servants went about their tasks. An unexpected drum of footfalls surprised me into setting down the schoolbook. The door opened and four guards entered. I grabbed my cane.

The mansa strode in. The damask of his flowing indigo robes gleamed. His hair was braided into canerows, the ends ornamented with white beads that clacked softly. I looked in vain for the old djeli, Bakary, who I was sure liked me. In the passage waited a younger man with a djeli’s gold earrings; he wore a dash jacket instead of Bakary’s traditional robes.

Vai’s mother got to her feet as Bintou and Wasa rose, Wasa fumbling with her crutch.

The mansa barely glanced at them. He studied the cacica’s skull briefly, but in truth his interest was all for me. “Catherine Bell Barahal, I have been blind to how valuable a person you are.”

He glanced toward the door as Lord Marius walked in. The soldier had an arm in a sling and a lurid but healing cut across his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

I made a pretty courtesy. “Your Excellency. My lord! You arrive with no warning, quite to my astonishment. I find surprise has made my mouth too dry to speak. Surely a soothing pot of tea and some news of my husband might help me find my voice.”

Lord Marius slapped me.

The force rocked me back. My skin stung so fiercely that tears welled in my eyes.

Wasa lost hold of her crutch and fell. Lord Marius grabbed my arm to stop me from going to her, so Bintou had to help her sister to her feet, both girls crying with fear.

“For shame,” said Vai’s mother. “The girl is defenseless and a prisoner.”

“Enough!” The mansa signaled toward the door. “Bring tea.” He regarded Vai’s mother with a considering frown. “I was told you were likely to die on the journey here to Lutetia, and sure to die within a week. Yet here you stand, still living. How does this come about?”

“Mansa,” she said, not answering, although she kept her gaze lowered.

“Stubborn, like your son. He lives,” he added, looking at me. “Satisfy me, and you will be allowed to see him. Defy me, and he will bide here never knowing you are held so close.”

I kept my chin high, for of course if Vai were here, he knew I was here.