Kushiels Dart

Page 78

 

  Percy de Somerville's reunion with Ghislain had brought tears to my eyes, father and son embracing, pounding one another's backs with L'Agnacite disregard for onlookers.

  The Chevalier Millard Verreuil, the stump of his missing left hand bound in a sling, was cooler with his son; but it was only his way, I think. He was a tall, lean man, with greying hair in an austere Siovalese braid and the same old-fashioned beauty as his middle son. I had learned, since the battle, that he had been the first in the courtyard to reach the inner gate, had lost shield and hand alike defending it.

  "I understand you are somewhat of a scholar," he said gravely when Joscelin had made the introductions.

  I opened my mouth, and closed it. It was not entirely untrue, but I had never been thus introduced. "I do but sample from the feast-table of my forefathers," I said in Caerdicci, quoting the Tiberian orator Nunnius Balbo. Joscelin's father smiled unexpectedly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

  "Naamah's Servants are seldom so learned in Siovale," he said, laying his sound hand on my shoulder. "A rebellion against the teachings of Shemhazai, mayhap. "

  "Shemhazai had his passions, my lord," I replied, smiling back at him, "and Naamah her store of wisdom. "

  The Chevalier Verreuil laughed, patting my shoulder. "I have heard what you did," he said, growing serious once more. "Terre d'Ange owes you a great debt for your service. "

  I inclined my head, uncomfortable with praise. "If not for your son, I would be dead many times over, my lord. "

  "I know. " He shifted his sling and rested his gaze on Joscelin with quiet pride. "Whether or not I agree with the path you have chosen, I cannot say, but you have acquitted yourself upon it with honor. "

  Joscelin bowed and said nothing. His brother Luc, half a head taller than both of them, grinned.

  "Can't disagree, seeing the cause!" he remarked, beaming at me. Luc had the same fair hair and blue eyes as his brother, but an open, merry cast to his features that must surely be their mother's legacy. "Elua! Will you come visit us, at least, Phedre? You ought to give me a fair chance before you decide on Joscelin!"

  I wasn't sure how Joscelin would take his brother's teasing; we'd scarce had a private moment to speak since I'd kissed him on the battlements. I didn't even know what it meant myself. But glancing sidelong at him, I saw the corner of his mouth twitch with the shadow of a smile. "Neither of us have decided anything, my lord," I replied to Luc, "but I would be honored to see Verreuil. "

  He grinned again, clapping Joscelin on the shoulder. "You can come too, I suppose. Did you know you're an uncle five times over? Jehane's been wed six years, and Honore almost four. "

  "I will, someday," Joscelin murmured.

  "You would be welcome," his father said firmly. "Any day. Your mother longs to see you. " He looked gently upon me. "And you will always be welcome in our home, Phedre no Delaunay. I knew the Comte de Montreve, you know. I think, in the end, he would have been very proud of his son Anafiel, and what he has wrought in you. "

  "Thank you, my lord. " It meant more than I would have guessed. Tears stung my eyes, and I hoped that, somewhere in the true Terre d'Ange that lies beyond, Delaunay had won his father's pride.

  I stood back and let them make their final farewells alone, then. There was a small party of Siovalese departing all together that morning. Luc Verreuil turned in the saddle as they rode away, the sunlight bright on his wheat-blond hair. "They sing some interesting songs about you in the hospital ward, Phedre no Delaunay!" he shouted, laughing.

  "Blessed Elua. " I could feel the flush rising. Wounded or no, Rousse's damned sailors, Phedre's Boys, would teach that damned song to anyone who would listen.

  "They adore you," Joscelin said dryly. "They've earned the right. "

  I shuddered. "But in front of your father?"

  "I know. " He watched them ride away, joining the train of Siovalese. "He wanted to speak to the Prefect about rescinding his edict against me. "

  My heart, unexpectedly, leapt into my throat. "What did you say?" I asked, striving to keep my voice calm. Joscelin glanced at me.

  "I said no. " Another faint smile twitched at the corner of his lips, glinted in his blue eyes. "After all, I have my vow to think of. "

  How long had it been since I had laughed, truly laughed? I couldn't remember. I laughed then, and felt it like a clean wind in my spirit, while Joscelin regarded me with amusement.

  "We do need to talk, though," I said, when I had caught my breath. He nodded, sobering. But just then one of Ysandre's pages came at a run across the drawbridge, searching for me; I was needed, and our conversation must be put off that day.

  As it was the next, and the day after. So it is with common folk, when the affairs of the mighty command their attention. And whatever part Joscelin and I had played in the tapestry of war, we were but bit players once more, in the arena of politics.

  Ysandre kept her court at Troyes-le-Mont, while the nation restabili-zed. D'Angeline nobles came daily to the fortress, renewing pledges of loyalty in some cases; in others, divulging the disloyalty of their peers. She gauged them all with an astuteness beyond her years, aided by the counsel of Caspar Trevalion and Barquiel L'Envers—and too of Drustan mab Necthana, who understood a great deal more than most people reck oned. They betrayed themselves, sometimes, those who had plotted against her, gazing in startlement at his face, blue-whorled and strange. It was not strange to me, not any longer. I met privately with him each day to tutor him in D'Angeline, and was ever more impressed with his quiet, intuitive wisdom.

  A constant watch was kept on the battlements, and every day the horns sounded, announcing some new arrival. I grew inured to it, scarce wondering any more who approached, merely marking the banners and insignia, checking them against the catalogue Delaunay had required Alcuin and me to memorize. I knew a great many of them, although Alcuin had known them all.

  I was at the smithy, settling an argument for two of the minor lords of the Dalriada regarding repairs to their war-chariots—a new linch pin and wheel-rims—and took no notice of the horns that morning, until Joscelin appeared and caught at my arm.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  His face was unreadable. "Come and see. "

  "The work is done, let them have the chariots," I said to the smith. "The Cruarch will see you paid for your labor. " I do not like to admit it, but some of the D'Angeline craftsmen who had flocked to Troyes-le-Mont were inclined to take advantage of the Albans. I hurried into the keep after Joscelin, mounting the spiral stairs of the tower, ignoring the faint twinges of pain from my still-healing back.

  On the battlements, he pointed to the west, where a party was advancing toward the fortress. "There. "

  They rode in a square formation, arranged around a single figure at their center, with two outriders on either side. Standards flew at the corners of the square. I knew the device; a raven and the sea.

  Quincel de Morhban.

  I caught my breath, wondering, and then felt Joscelin's fingers at my elbow, a grip almost hard enough to hurt. I knew the figure de Morh-ban's men surrounded, too. There was no mistaking it, even at a distance; proud and straight in the saddle, head held high, rippling curtain of blue-black hair.

  The world rippled in my vision, crenellated walls of the battlements tilting sideways. Only Joscelin's grip held me upright. At my throat, Mel-isande's diamond sparkled like the sun and hung heavy as a millstone.

  "Melisande," I whispered. "Ah, Elua!"

  NINETY-TWO

  I do not think the Due de Morhban could have brought her in without aid. It was her own kin who had betrayed her, the two outriders proving to be Shahrizai, riding hooded even in the heat of summer, shadowing their features. Younger members of the House, they were: Marmion and Persia, who sold their cousin's whereabouts to Quincel de Morhban in return for his favor.

  After we had departed the shores of Terre d'Ange in Rousse
's flagship, de Morhban had kept his word, interrogating the Admiral's men. Rousse hadn't told them everything, but enough, and they gave away enough for de Morhban to put events together. And too, rumors reached his ears, as surely they had Melisande's, that members of the Cassiline Brotherhood, serving as couriers for Ysandre's loyal allies, asked about Melisande Shahrizai where they rode. De Morhban was no fool, and had held sovereignty in Kusheth long enough to know how to deal with House Shahrizai. He kept his knowledge to himself and waited for matters to unfold.

  While the nation went to war, Quincel de Morhban bided his time. When mighty waves roiled the Straits and word reached him of an Alban fleet landing on D'Angeline soil, he cast the die and went a-hunting Melisande Shahrizai.

  He found her, in an isolated hold in southern Kusheth, preparing to journey, as Marmion and Persia had said he would.

  That much, they knew, having aided her; not enough to convict her. Word spread like wildfire through Troyes-le-Mont as Melisande was brought into the keep. Everyone knew something, it seemed. And no one knew enough. Melisande played a deep game. The edifice of proof of her guilt had crumbled on the battlefield.

  "I'm sorry," Ysandre said compassionately to me. "I would have spared you this, if I could. "

  I drew a deep breath and shivered. "I know, my lady. "

  The hearing was held in the throne room, cool and dim behind thick stone walls, lit by lamps and torches even in the heart of summer. I stood behind Ysandre's throne, behind her two Cassilines and the rank of her Courcel guard. Even Joscelin was no comfort in this, although he stood close at my side.

  Quincel de Morhban came forward to bend his knee before Ysandre, pledging his loyalty. What he said, I cannot remember; all my senses were fixed on one point in that room. He stood aside, then, and Melisande Shahrizai came forward, flanked by his men, though they dared not touch her.

  "Lady Melisande Shahrizai. " Ysandre's voice, cool as a blade, cut through the flame-streaked air. "You stand before us accused of treason. How do you plead?"

  "Your majesty. " Melisande curtsied, smooth and graceful, her face calm and lovely, "I am your loyal servant, and innocent of the charge. "

  I could see Ysandre lean forward. "You are charged with conspiring with Isidore d'Aiglemort to betray the nation and seize the throne. Do you deny this?"

  Melisande smiled; I knew that smile well. I have seen it a thousand times, waking and sleeping. Torchlight glimmered on her hair and her ivory features, making twin stars of her deep blue eyes. "For a thousand years, House Shahrizai has served the throne," she said, and her voice was like honey, rich and sweet. We who are D'Angeline, we are vulnerable to beauty, always. I could hear the assembled crowd murmur. "His grace de Morhban makes charges, but he offers no proof, and has much to gain, if his loyalty and my estates alike are at stake. " Melisande turned out her hands in an eloquent gesture, lifting her gaze to Ysandre's. Such surety, such confidence; her guilt lay buried beneath the battlefield, in the long sleep of death. "Where was he, when battle was waged for D'Angeline sovereignty? Yes, your majesty, I refute the charge. If he has proof, let him offer it. "

  How much, in truth, de Morhban had guessed, I was not sure; but I knew then how much he had told her: nothing. The isolation that had protected Melisande had made her vulnerable, and Quincel de Morhban had disarmed her in the only way possible. He had kept her shrouded in ignorance.

  "You are charged too," Ysandre said, watching her closely, "with conspiring with Waldemar Selig of the Skaldi. "

  It took Melisande by surprise. I could see her eyelids flicker. Then she laughed, easily and gracefully. "Does the Due claim as much? Well might I say it of him, or anyone, your majesty. It is an easy charge to make, that may not be gainsaid by the dead. "

  "No," Ysandre said. "Not de Morhban. "

  Melisande grew still, her gaze sharpening as she regarded Ysandre. "Do I not have the right, your majesty, to know who accuses me?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

  Ysandre did not waver, but made a slight gesture with one hand. The rank of her guard parted in front of me, and I stepped forth trembling.

  "I do," I said softly, meeting Melisande's eyes. I raised one hand and grasped the diamond at my throat, tearing it loose with one sharp jerk. The velvet lead broke, and I held the diamond in my hand, cords trailing. I tossed it on the flagstones between us. "That is yours, my lady," I said, taking a shuddering breath. "I am not. "

  In the profound silence of the throne room, Melisande Shahrizai went a deadly white.

  To her credit, she gave no other sign, but stood unmoving as the two of us looked at one another. Then, impossibly, she gave a short laugh and looked away. "My lord Delaunay," she murmured, gazing into the distance. "You play a considerable end-game. " No one spoke as her sapphire-blue gaze returned to rest thoughtfully on me. "That was the one thing I couldn't fathom. Percy de Somerville was prepared for Selig's invasion. You?"

  "I saw a letter you wrote to Selig, in your own hand. " My voice was shaking. "You should have killed me when you had the chance. "

  Melisande stooped and picked up the diamond lead that lay between us, dangling it from one hand. "Leaving you the Cassiline was a bit excessive," she agreed, glancing at Joscelin, who stood impassive, eyes blazing. "Although it seems to have agreed with him. "

  "Do you dispute this charge?" Ysandre raised her voice, cool and implacable, severing the tension between us. Melisande looked at the diamond in her hand, closing her fist around it, arching her brows.

  "You have proof, I assume, of their story?"

  "I have Palace Guards who will swear they saw them with you the night of Anafiel Delaunay's murder. " Ysandre's expression was calm and merciless. "And I believe, my lady Shahrizai, that thirty thousand invading Skaldi attest to the truth of their tale. "

  Melisande shrugged. "Then I have no more to say. "

  "So be it. " Ysandre summoned her guard. "You will be executed at dawn. "

  No one, not Trevalion nor L'Envers, not de Morhban nor the assembled peers, and not her Shahrizai kin, heads downcast, spoke in her defense. I watched, trembling, as the Courcel guard surrounded Melisande, escorting her out of the throne room.

  "It's over," Joscelin murmured at my ear. "It's over, Phedre. "

  "I know. " I touched my throat, where no diamond lay, and wondered why I felt so empty.

  I spent a long time in the hospital wards that day and evening, finding solace in tending to the injured. I'd no medical skills to speak of, although Lelahiah Valais had a shy young student who was kind enough to instruct me in simple matters, changing bandages, and washing fevered wounds with herbal infusions. Mostly, it helped the wounded to see a kind face, to have a listening ear. I had scavenged parchment and ink from the tiny library, some days ago. I took letters for some of them, who had come to realize that they would never see home again.

  A small kindness, but it meant a great deal to the dying. I spent much of my time with the Cruithne and Dalriada, who could not even communicate with the healers who tended them. Drustan had a veritable sheaf of letters already, that he had promised would reach Alban soil, and bards and brehons to read them, if their recipients could not.

  Wise enough in his own way, Joscelin left me be. I do not think he ever understood, truly, what lay between Melisande and I. How could he, when I scarce understood it myself? It would have been simpler, before I dared the crossing of Selig's camp, before the torture. I despised her for what she had done, both to me, and to Terre d'Ange.

  And yet. . .

  Elua knew, I had loved her once.

  It was well into the small hours of the night when the messenger found me. Unsure of his errand, he looked uncomfortable, whispering in the quiet air of the sickroom. "My lady Phedre, I am bid to summon you. The Lady Melisande Shahrizai would speak with you, if you are willing. "

  If you ever have a chance to confront her alone, don't take it.

  I did not forget Hya
cinthe's words. But I went anyway.

  There were two guards at her door; Ysandre's, and loyal. Even though they knew me, they checked me carefully for weapons before admitting me. It was an irony, that Melisande had a chamber to herself. No one else did, save Ysandre, with the fortress full to overflowing. But she was a peer of the realm, and a scion of Kushiel; she deserved as much, her last night on earth. I wondered who had been displaced, that she might spend it in comfort.

  It was a small chamber, two chairs, a writing table and a bed only. I entered, and heard the door closed behind me, the bolt shot fast.

  Melisande, seated in one of the chairs, glanced up as I entered. "I wasn't sure you'd come," she remarked in greeting, arching her perfect brows. "And without your warder, too. "

  "What do you want?" I remained standing.

  She only laughed, that rich laugh that turned my very bones to water; even now, even still. "To see you," she said, then. "Before I die. Is that so much to ask?"

  "From you," I said, "yes. "

  "Phedre. " Her lips shaped my name, her voice gave it meaning. I caught at the back of the second chair to steady myself, and her eyes watched me, amused. "Do you hate me that much?"

  "Yes," I whispered, willing it to be true. "Why don't you?"

  "Ah, well. " Melisande shrugged. "I was careless, and you played the hand I dealt you. Shall I blame you for that? I knew you were Delaunay's creature when I dealt it. It might have been different, if I had claimed you for my own, and not given you leave to choose. "

  "No," I said.

  "Who can say?" She smiled wryly. "But I will admit, I underestimated you gravely. You and that half-mad Cassiline of yours. I've heard tales, you know, from the guards. You went to Alba, they say. "

  I clutched the chair-back. "What did Selig promise you?" I asked, making my voice hard.

  "Half an empire. " Melisande leaned back casually. "I heard his name when he offered marriage to the daughter of the Duke of Milazza. I was curious. He thought I offered him Terre d'Ange. But I would have taken Skaldia in the end, you know. Or our children would have, if I'd not lived to see it. "