“Despite every hesitation, there is no better candidate. You know what he did at Lemovis. It would be better to kill him than to see him defect to the general. But to kill one as powerful as he is would be a terrible deed we would all regret. He belongs to Four Moons House, and now I have made sure of it.”

A chill of horror spun through my bones.

The Two Gourds mansa went on, “Is it true the marriage contract constrains you? I would give you my youngest daughter for him, even as a second wife. She has seen the boy and approves.”

“It was a chained marriage. Magic binds our hands in this regard.”

“Is the Phoenician girl truly worth that much to you?”

“You will soon see.”

A steward appeared at the far doors. “Your Excellencies, if you will.”

The men flowed away into a room I could not see from my unlit prison. I heard men’s laughter and the clink of utensils as they sat down to their meal.

“You will soon see.”

That sounded ominous.

Footsteps scraped the corridor. The lock clicked, the door opened, and a steward led me into the dining room. Two Gourds was a traditional household. The old mansa’s young kinsmen served their elders while his wives and daughters poured wine for the more than thirty men in attendance. Vai was describing how a cold mage might defuse a square of riflemen without getting killed.

“The risk to the cavalry will be great, but that risk arises regardless. If the cold mage is placed at the center of the horsemen, the riders can sweep in and out at speed. The proximity of the cold mage to the combustion will kill their shot. If it is coordinated properly, then a second cavalry charge can break the enemy square during that interval when the riflemen and cannon cannot fire.”

“An excellent idea,” said Lord Marius, “but horses will not break a wall of infantrymen.”

“Lancers? Mounted crossbowmen? Longbowmen can surely do damage from a distance. The point is that Camjiata relies on superior firepower, and we can render his guns impotent in bursts. And then take advantage of their weakness.”

The entire table might as well have been feeding him fruit with their own hands, the way they were seducing him with their respectful attention. The young woman who had made slighting comments about Phoenician baby-killers and whores offered him more wine. He glanced up with a smile that stabbed right through me, until his gaze flicked past her and I realized the smile was for me. The Two Gourds mansa raised a hand for silence.

Every person in the room turned to look at me. Six djeliw were present.

“So, young Andevai,” said the old Two Gourds mansa. “Let us see what your wife can do.”