Kushiel's Chosen (30 page)

Ah, Elua; such power, and so useless to me! If I could have put a name to an enemy who could be fought with cold steel, I would have. The ancient Hellenes claimed that the gods mocked their chosen victims. I never quite understood, until then, the double-edged curse of my gift. Melisande, I thought, would have relished the irony of it.

There remained, though, that which I had come for. "My lord," I said, leaning forward. "I am in search of the garrison of Troyes-le-Mont, those guardsmen who were on duty the night that Melisande Shahrizai escaped. I am given to un derstand that some number of them requested service among the Unforgiven, pursuing the remnants of Selig's army. What can you tell me?"

"Ghislain's lads." Tarren d'Eltoine surprised me with a fierce, bleak grin. "You're hunting traitors. I knew you would be about Kushiel's business, my lady. Yes, I've two under my command, and there are some few others, I think—three or four—scattered among the garrisons of Camlach. Would you speak with those here at Southfort?"

"Yes, my lord Captain. Please." After so long, I nearly felt dizzy with relief at tracking down at least two of the missing guardsmen. Barquiel L'Envers, I thought, I owe you for this tip. Pray that I use it better than you used my information regarding Marmion Shahrizai.

"Do you jest?" His eyes gleamed; he did have a sense of humor after all. It was simply a uniquely Camaeline humor. "If I am not mistaken, they are badgering him even now to show how he managed to hold off half a dozen of the Black Shields."

"Seven," I said, meeting his amused gaze. "It was seven, at least."

High praise, indeed. I mulled over in my mind whether or not to tell Josceíin.

That night, I slept in the Captain's own quarters, listening to the wind out of Skaldia blow through the pines. It made me shiver in my marrow, and wish I were not alone beneath the fur-trimmed covers. I think, sometimes, I will never shake the cold of that Bitterest Winter. Though the lash- marks of my final assignation had faded, my shoulder ached; the old wound, where Waldemar Selig's blade had begun to carve my skin from my flesh. 'Twas but a memory, but even so, I felt it. I heard the sounds of a nightbound garrison, the call and response of guards, the occasional staccato beat of hooves, and saw light streaking against the darkness as a torch was handed off. I didn't guess what they were about, then. There was a watch set on the Yeshuite encampment, an uneasy truce.

I had gone to speak with them, along with Josceíin, and explained the nature of the misunderstanding. They were holding funeral rites for the slain, and though I spoke in their own tongue, most would not even look my way.

The man's eyes shone in the firelight, and he spat at my feet. "When the Mashiach returns, he will come bearing a sword, and He will separate out the goats from the sheep, D'Angeline! It is the faithful who lay His path. Are we prisoners here? Must we suffer for your pride, your wars?"

The Yeshuite looked at me, uncertain. I thought with grief of the needless death I had witnessed, the lives thrown away on the battlefield. What stakes are worth that cost? I did not know then; I do not know now. What prize he sought, I could not even fathom. A promise gleaned from a dead prophet's words. In the end, all I could do was sigh.

"I have secured you safe passage through the mountains," I told him. "Captain d'Eltoine's men will see you to the pass on the morrow, and your weapons will be returned to you. Beyond that, I can only pray that you are right, and Yeshua keep you safe."

Joscelin gave his Cassiline bow, putting a seal on my words. His
khai
pendant flashed in the firelight, but he made no comment, and the Yeshuite offered him no thanks for the intervention that had surely saved lives. I turned to make my way back to the garrison.

It had been my idea, my plan. I had not forgotten, either I will never forget, until I die. Who is to measure cause? It may be that Terre d'Ange stands as a sovereign nation and not a Skaldic territory because Joscelin Verreuil throttled an unsuspecting thane. It was still murder. Are the stakes the Yeshuites seek any lower? I cannot say; only that we gauged the need and the profit better. And what had been the cost to Joscelin's soul? He bore the guilt of our deed, and his own broken oaths. I could not see his left hand, on the field today. I would never know if he meant to bring the second dagger to his own throat.

So it was that we rode out onto the practice-field at Southfort, and Captain Tarren D'Eltoine barked out commands while his corps of Unforgiven executed a smooth series of maneuvers. Worn armor was oiled and polished to a high gleam, black shields fresh painted. His pikemen advanced before the line of horse, knelt and held, then broke away smoothly as the cavalry simulated a charge, lances held low. Then they too split away, and the pikemen regrouped in their place, swords drawn. Spaced far apart, they advanced; and the wheeling cavalry turned and charged through the gaps, baring naked steel.

When it was done, Tarren d'Eltoine raised one hand, and to a man, the Unforgiven knelt in that same uncanny motion; swords sheathed, shields lowered to touch the earth and heads bowed. Elua forgive me, but it made me uncomfortable. He beckoned, before giving the dismissal. Five infantrymen stayed.

I took their measure as they approached; L'Agnacites all, by the look of them. Broad, earnest faces, handsome in their way, bearing the sweat of their toil and smelling of the earth. Joscelin and my chevaliers drew close as they came, espe cially Fortun, who had studied most the maps of Troyes-le-Mont. He had brought one of our renderings with him, and drew out the scroll from its cylindrical leather casing, spreading it over his horse's withers.

"Tell me," I said, leaning forward in the saddle, "all that you saw that night."

"Yes, my lady," replied Svariel of L'Agnace, who'd stood guard on the stairway of the second floor. "One of her maj esty's Cassilines escorted her to the prisoner's chamber and back."

I closed my eyes. "Did you look closely as she left?"

He looked surprised. "I must have done, my lady. Don't remember as anyone asked. Well, she'd have known it, any mind, right? They're hers, the Cassiline Brothers."

"It doesn't matter," I told him gently. "You did all that duty required, and very well indeed, to remember that much. What of the others?" I glanced round at them all. "There must be ten or more of the guardsmen of Troyes-le-Mont not numbered among the Unforgiven."

"There were." It was the Captain's voice, cool and inci sive. "We had two dozen among us, when we chased the remnants of Selig's men past the Camaelines. Some chose to stay; those men you see here before you. The rest returned to their duties in the regular army."

I thought about that. "To whom did they report?"

Tarren d'Eltoine shrugged. "The Lord Commander, I sup pose, or mayhap the Captain of the Palace Guard. I concern myself with the men under my command, not those who've chosen dismissal."

I could not help but smile. "Well, then. Percy de Some rville claims no knowledge of them; but then, it is Barquiel L'Envers who told me as much, so I do not know if I can believe it. My lord Captain, messires soldiers, might they have reported to Ghislain de Somerville?"