Naamah's Blessing (25 page)

“I fear it, too,” I said honestly.

He gave me a sharp glance. “But you’ve done a fair job of setting a third of my Parliament against me. What will they say if I oppose you?”

“They will say that you were afraid that Moirin would succeed in restoring the rightful heir to the throne,” Bao said in a calm tone. “And they will meet again, and vote to strip you of your appointment and replace you. And then the new Regent will grant us a letter of decree, and we will sail anyway.”

Duc Rogier was silent, his lips pressed tight. At length, he dismissed us with a curt gesture. “Go. Get out of my sight.”

Outside the door to his study, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“That went reasonably well,” Bao observed. “He can’t afford to oppose us. See, Moirin? I told you there was a reason for you to address the Parliament.”

I took his arm. “So you did, my magpie.”

“Lady Moirin?” one of a pair of royal guardsmen stationed outside the Regent’s study addressed me in a deferential manner. “We heard your witchcraft tells you his highness Prince Thierry and his company yet live. Is it true?”

“I believe it to be true,” I said. “Although I fear I can offer no proof.”

“And you mean to try to rescue them?” the second guard inquired.

“We do,” Bao confirmed.

The guards exchanged a glance. “I’ve heard tales of Terra Nova,” the one who’d spoken first said. “ ’Tis a dangerous place. You’ll need good steel by your side—sharp swords, and strong arms to wield them.” He lowered his voice. “You’ll find no shortage of volunteers amidst the Royal Guard, my lady. Prince Thierry was a great favorite in the Palace, always quick with a kind word and a jest.”

“My thanks,” I said to him, my eyes stinging. “I will remember it.”

He nodded. “You do that.”

Ah, gods! Last night, the sailor; today, the guards. It was almost too much to bear, for I knew in my heart that Rogier de Barthelme was right. If we undertook this quest, whether we succeeded or failed, men would die.

It was as simple as that.

And their blood would be on
my
hands.

“It’s not your fault, Moirin,” Bao said quietly to me on the carriage-ride to Denis de Toluard’s home. “You didn’t choose your destiny, burdensome as it is.”

“No.” I wiped my eyes. “But this time I am the one setting this thing in motion, Bao. That means
I
am responsible for it. And I cannot help but think…” I paused, and he waited patiently. “I cannot help but think Denis de Toluard is right,” I said at last. “Somehow, everything goes back to the Circle of Shalomon. That’s where it all began to go wrong. My lady Jehanne even said I’m meant to finish my business with Raphael in Terra Nova. I don’t know how, but it’s all tied together, and Thierry is caught up in it through no fault of his own.” I shook my head. “I should never, ever have aided them. And that, too, is my responsibility.”

Bao shrugged. “And you are facing it.”

“Aye,” I said. “But so are
you
. And others! Stone and sea, so many!”

“I chose this,” he reminded me. “I chose you, Moirin. And I found a way to do it on my own terms.” Bao put his hands on my shoulders and gave me a hard kiss, firm and anchoring. “Everyone makes their own choices. Let them, eh?”

I laughed ruefully. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” As the carriage-driver drew rein outside the de Toluard townhouse, Bao kissed me again, hard and long and deep, his tongue delving into my mouth, his
diadh-anam
intertwining with mine until I felt myself melting against him.

Naamah, the bright lady, smiled. Her enduring grace showered down upon us like a hail of golden sparks.

I made an inarticulate sound of protest when he pulled away. “Bao!”

He gave me a serene smile. “Let us finish Naamah’s business later, Moirin. Now let us go see if Denis de Toluard is sufficiently sober to tell us what might have befallen your Prince Thierry, and why Terra Nova is such a terrible place.” He adjusted the sleeves of his black-and-white magpie coat, affording me a glimpse of the stark zig-zag tattoos on his corded forearms and reminding me of all we had endured together. “After all, it can’t be worse than Kurugiri, can it?”

“Surely not,” I agreed.

As it transpired, it could.

TWENTY-EIGHT

I
t’s a bloody place,” Denis de Toluard said bluntly.

“How so?” I inquired.

He sighed and scrubbed at his face with both hands. He looked better, much better, but still ages older than he ought. “They’re a bloody folk, the Nahuatl. And I mean it quite literally. It’s not just that they built an empire by conquering damn nigh everything in sight. They practice human sacrifice.”

“Oh.” I felt a bit sick. “Gods! Why?”

“They believe it’s their duty,” Denis said. “They believe it’s necessary for the world to continue. That the gods sacrificed parts of themselves to create the world, and that ongoing sacrifice is necessary to sustain it. They believe that without it, the sun will not rise and the rain will not fall.” He gave us a grim smile. “According to Diego Ortiz y Ramos, the commander of the Aragonian garrison, it’s a great deal better than it used to be. When they first arrived in Tenochtitlan, the Nahuatl would sacrifice hundreds, even thousands, of victims at a single festival. The steps of the temples would run red with blood.”

“But no longer?” I asked hopefully.

Denis shrugged. “The Aragonians have been working to convert the Nahuatl to the worship of Mithras, and they’ve had some success. But the practice continues on a lesser scale. I’ve seen it,” he added with a shudder. “And it’s horrible.”

Balthasar Shahrizai looked unwontedly pale. “Exactly where do they find all these victims to sacrifice?”

“Prisoners of war, for the most part,” Denis said. “They actually fight to maim and injure rather than kill in order to take prisoners to sacrifice to their gods. Warriors gain status that way. But there are also those who go willing to the altar, and reckon it an honor. Apparently, it’s one of two ways to ascend immediately to the highest heaven, bypassing some rather unpleasant stages of the afterlife.”

“What’s the other?” Bao asked.

Denis gave him a jaundiced look. “A noble death on the battlefield.”

I glanced at Bao. Upon dying a hero’s death, he had been granted a reprieve from the more unpleasant aspects of the Ch’in afterlife. By aiding Master Lo in trading his life for Bao’s, I had stolen that from him all unwitting. Bao caught my not-so-stealthy glance and returned a level gaze, reminding me without words that he
had
found a way to choose this fate for himself.

I cleared my throat. “So it’s a bloody place, and the Nahuatl are a bloody folk. Do you suppose Thierry ran afoul of them?”

“No.” Denis shook his head. “That’s the thing. I
don’t
. If we ran afoul of anyone, it was the Aragonians. They treated us civilly enough, but they weren’t happy about Terre d’Ange encroaching on their territory. And they weren’t happy that Raphael rose so high in the Emperor’s regard.”

“Do you suspect this commander… what was his name? Diego Ortiz y Ramos? Of being somehow complicit?” Balthasar inquired delicately.

“No. No, I don’t think so.” Denis hesitated. “Ah, gods! What do I know? I was shitting myself half to death with dysentery at the time. Here’s what I
do
know.” He unrolled a scroll on a low table between us. “This is a copy of the map the Emperor Achcuatli gave to Raphael, that he and Thierry might seek out the empire of Tawantinsuyo.” His finger traced a course. “Here is the isthmus overland.” He tapped the map. “Here the jungle begins; and here is the river on which they were meant to travel.”

I peered at the map. “My lord Denis, forgive me, but… why were you so sure Thierry died?”

He raised his voice. “Because he didn’t come back!”

“Aye, but—”

“Thierry’s word is his bond,” Denis said, and Balthasar Shahrizai nodded in agreement. “He’d no sooner break it than you would break your people’s oath, Moirin. He promised his father he would do everything in his power to return in two years’ time. He gave
me
his word the secondary expedition would return within a year’s time no matter what they found; and made me promise to sail without him if they didn’t. I waited for almost a year and a half. There’s a reason even the Nahuatl haven’t sought to conquer Tawantinsuyo. Do you know how many ways there are to die in the jungles of Terra Nova?”

I shook my head humbly.

Denis de Toluard regaled us with a litany of horrors ranging from hostile natives, raging rivers, poisonous snakes, strangling snakes, maddening insects, ravenous ants, hideous diseases, suppurating wounds, and razor-teethed fish that could strip a man’s flesh from his body in a matter of minutes. “That’s where you mean to go,” he said when he had finished. “
That’s
what you’re bound for.”

Everyone was silent for a moment.

“Well,” Bao said presently. “But people live there, don’t they? So it must have some merits.”

“They say it’s beautiful,” Denis murmured. “Beautiful and terrible. That there are flowers of surpassing beauty that bloom there and nowhere else in the world. That you can go for days and days without seeing the sky, only an endless roof of green leaves high overhead. It can drive a man mad.”

“In the Tatar lands, nothing blooms, there is only sky overhead, and you can ride for days and days without seeing a tree,” I observed. “I think I would like this better.”

“You really mean to go? You, yourself?” Denis asked. “Elua have mercy, Moirin! It’s no place for a woman.”

I shrugged. “I have to.”

“You and your bear-goddess,” he said in a mild tone that intended no offense. “All right. All right, then.” He took a deep breath. “I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure?” Given our history, I didn’t like him well enough to relish the prospect.

Denis met my gaze and smiled bitterly. “If you’re right, Thierry’s alive and I abandoned him. All of them. I could have begged the Aragonians to mount a search for them, promising a vast reward, promising we would abandon efforts to infringe on their trade rights. I could have begged Emperor Achcuatli, promising him horses and steel weapons. I could have done
something
, and I didn’t. I gathered our crew, turned tail, and sailed for home, in time to deliver the news that drove the King to take his own life.”

To that, I said nothing.

“If I stay here, I’ll just drink myself to death,” he said. “Besides, I can be useful to you. I’ve met the Emperor, and I’m on fair terms with Commander Ortiz y Ramos. I learned quite a bit of the Nahuatl tongue.”

“He’s right, Moirin,” Bao observed.

“So be it,” I agreed.

“What about you?” Denis asked Balthasar Shahrizai, an edge of scorn creeping into his voice. “As I recall, you’re a fair hand with a sword. But I don’t suppose you’ve any intention of risking your pretty neck this time, either.”

“You wound me, Denis.” Balthasar studied his fingernails, which were neatly trimmed and buffed. “Actually, yes. I have every intention of joining the expedition.”

It surprised me. “You do?”

He glanced up at me. “Let’s just say I’ve a fancy to see these flowers of surpassing beauty that bloom nowhere else in the world, shall we?”

I found myself unexpectedly touched. “You needn’t risk yourself, my lord Balthasar. You’re already doing a great deal. This expedition wouldn’t be possible without the support of House Shahrizai.”

“All the more reason to keep an eye on our investment.” He shot a needling look at Denis de Toluard. “It didn’t turn out so well the first time, did it?”

Denis flushed with anger, but held his tongue.

“Well, I think it’s a fine idea,” Bao said cheerfully. “It will certainly make the voyage more interesting.”

Of that, I was certain.

By the time we left the de Toluard household, the City of Elua was abuzz with the news; and predictably, opinion was torn as to whether there was genuine cause for hope, or I was a lying charlatan bent on exacting revenge on the Duc de Barthelme by embarking on a fool’s errand bound to have a terrible cost.

My father came to pay us a visit, and I had no doubt what he thought. From the beginning, he had believed in me. He embraced me without a word and I clung to him, finding myself in tears again.

“My mother…” I whispered, the realization only just dawning on me. “Ah, gods! By this time, I’d hoped to be bound for Alba.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I mean to go in your stead, Moirin.”

I blinked away tears. “You do?”

“I do,” my father said firmly. “I’ll gladly carry a letter for her, but this news should be delivered in person. Twenty-some years ago, we made a child together. I mean to find Fainche, and tell her what manner of woman you’ve grown into since you left her side, and of the adventures that have befallen you.” He glanced at Bao with a faint smile. “I will assure her that I very much like your unusual husband, and that if anyone can keep you safe, he can. I will tell her that our very disparate gods brought us together for a purpose.” He took my hand. “And I will kneel beside her, and we will pray to our disparate gods, to the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, to Blessed Elua and Naamah and all the Companions, and any other gods that might be listening, that you will return safely home.”