Kushiel's Chosen

The Queen's Guard-the Queen's Guard numbered only five hundred men. And one hundred of these would remain in La Serenissima to secure the Vicomte de Cherevin's stewardship of the Little Court.

If there was a good face one could put on it, it meant that we would be able to move swiftly, retracing a course across the Caerdicci peninsula strung with alliances solidified mere days and weeks before. Elua willing, they would provide us with aid in the matter of supplies and fresh horses.

Ysandre held a brief meeting with her Captain of the Guard and his four remaining lieutenants, her Bursar and the Master of Horse. Whatever transpired, it did not fare well-a tent affords poor insulation for voices raised in heated argument. I know that Ysandre left the meeting in considerable temper, a flush of color on her high cheekbones, and Amaury Trente stormed angrily about the tents, calling for the encampment to be struck.

It was done in record speed, supply wagons loaded, train ordered and formed. One of the Master of Horse's assistants found mounts for Joscelin, Ti-Philippe and me; there were riderless horses aplenty, since the guardsmen remaining in La Serenissima would have little use for them. There were carriages for some few members of the party, but most rode astride, as Ysandre preferred to do on the road.

We were assigned a position in the ranks of peers behind the Queen, surrounded by a cordon of her Guard. No one had bothered to tell us the plan of action; the chain of command had slipped by us, having never included us in the first place. Ti-Philippe tolerated this for all of a half-hour's march before he began querying the guards and learned that we were headed to inland Pavento, two days away. The Queen's emissaries had already ridden ahead to alert the Principe of the city.

It was Ysandre's intention to leave the nonessential members of the entourage quartered safely in Pavento, and acquire stores to proceed with all speed to Terre d'Ange by way of Milazza. Lord Trente's quarrel was not with this, it seemed. According to the rumors Ti-Philippe garnered, the Queen was refusing to consider his adamant advice that she raise a Caerdicci army to accompany us into Terre d'Ange.

In truth, I didn't know what to think; I was glad enough, for a change, to have no decisions on my head. We travelled briskly along the well-built Tiberian road, wrapped in cloaks against the autumn chill. Despite everything, I could not help but feel a certain joy. I was young and alive, and I had Joscelin and Ti-Philippe at my side. As much as we had lost-and I grieved anew every time I thought of Remy and Fortun-none of us had thought to set out on this homeward journey. Whatever lay at the end, every step of it was a blessing.

For Ysandre de la Courcel, it was another matter.

"It will be a risk just crossingthe border," Jocelin murmured to me that night, as we lay together in the small soldiers' tent allotted to us; there was a sufficiency of those, too. "With four hundred men? It wouldn't take much for de Somerville to lay a trap.”

"De Somerville doesn't know she's alive," I reminded him. "Though I wouldn't put it past Melisande to have thought of it anyway."

"No." He propped himself up on one elbow, regarding me in the faint light our campfires cast through the oiled silk of the tent. "Would you truly have gone with her, if she had asked it?"

I heard the change in his voice; we hadn't talked about it since that fruitless meeting in the Temple of Asherat. There had been little privacy and less time. I laid my hand on his warm chest, feeling his strong heart beat beneath it. "I don't know," I said truthfully. "Joscelin, it would have made an end to it and laid the foundation for peace. For that... mayhap, yes."

There was more to it, for it had to with what happened on Kriti; I had seen the darkness of my own soul, and I could never close my eyes to it. And I am an anguissette, when all is said and done. For these things, I lacked words. One cannot speak of mysteries. Still, Joscelin had been a priest in his own right-and he knew me.

He was silent for a moment, winding a lock of my hair about his fingers. "The Yeshuites promise it," he said at length. "Complete absolution. I thought about it. In the end..." He smiled wryly. "In the end, I chose as I will always choose. It frightens me to think that one day she will ask, and you do not know what you'll choose."

"When you threatened her, Melisande named a price you would not pay," I said. "I set one that she will not. She would play the game of thrones with Kushiel himself; she was willing to risk sacrificing all her plans to do it. Not her son. The child is a double-edged weapon, Joscelin. It is knowledge, and worth having."

"Phèdre nó Delaunay," he whispered, drawing me closer, "does your mind never cease?"

"Sometimes," I admitted. "If you-"

I didn't need to tell him that, either, for although it too is a mystery in its own right, it is Naamah's mystery and its knowledge is vouchsafed to all lovers if they will but accept it. In the old days, we would have quarrelled bitterly over what had happened in the Temple. Now, Joscelin heeded Naamah's wisdom rather than Cassiel's logic, and silenced me with a kiss, setting about doing those things which caused my mind to cease working altogether.

On the second day, we reached Pavento and were met outside the city walls by an honor guard sent by the Principe, Gregorio Livinius. While an encampment was set up in the fertile fields surrounding the city, Ysandre and a hand-picked company of nobles-which included me-were escorted inside.

It is a pleasant city, Pavento, although I saw little enough of it. We rode straightaway to the palace of the Principe, wrought of grey stone quarried from the mountains to the north, but softened by brightly-woven tapestries; they are famous, in Pavento, for their dyes.

Gregorio Livinius was a robust, energetic man in his mid-forties. He had been eager to secure ties with Ysandre, hoping to better his city's fortunes through increased trade with Terre d'Ange. It had fallen off in the years of Skaldic raiding threatening the overland routes, but since the defeat of Waldemar Selig, the Skaldi had withdrawn their aggressions.

It was to our fortune that Principe Gregorio remained eager to support this fresh alliance, although he bargained hard for the price of his aid. Most of what he demanded, Ysandre gave unhesitatingly. In exchange, he would provide stores for our journey and open the city to her entourage, giving safe haven to nigh onto two hundred folk-"Anyone who cannot hold a sword," Ysandre said grimly.

There were exceptions, of course; as the Secretary of the Presence, the Lady Denise Grosmaine was bound to accompany the Queen, and some few of the grooms, attendants and cooks were reckoned vital, as was the chirurgeon.

And there was me, although I was not reckoned vital.

In the end, it was sheer pleading that swayed her; two others among her ladies-in-waiting accompanied her, too, for she could scarce refuse their pleas having heeded mine.

Ysandre would fain have left us all. Fewer to endanger; fewer to protect.

"My lady," I begged, kneeling before her. "I have been deceived, imprisoned, bludgeoned, near-drowned, abducted, storm-lost, driven nigh out of my wits and held at knifepoint. If you grant me nothing else, let me go home!"

"Phèdre," Ysandre sighed. "The more I try to set you out of harm's way, the deeper in it I find you. All right. Like as not, you'd only turn up with an army of brigands at your back if I tried to leave you. You may come." She cast an acerbic eye at the high-spirited Baronesse Marie de Flairs, already moving to add her plea to mine, and the Lady Vivienne Neldor a step behind her. "Elua, enough! My lord Cassiline, will you take responsibility for their safety?"

At her side, Brys nó Rinforte looked queasy; but it was Joscelin the Queen had meant. He took a step forward, bowing deeply with crossed vambraces. I had washed most of the dye from his hair at the Little Court, and trimmed the ends so that he looked somewhat presentable. "Your majesty," he said calmly. "I will."

So it was decided, and Joscelin Verreuil placed in command of those men-at-arms attendant on the Queen's ladies. If I feared they would balk at it, I was wrong, for his battle in the Temple with David de Rocaille was already spoken of in hushed murmurs. Ti-Philippe bore it with amusement when he learned of Joscelin's appointment. The days of animosity were long gone between them, replaced by bonds of mutual respect.

Ysandre asked no military aid of Principe Gregorio, and if Lord Trente bridled at it, he held his tongue; Pavento was small, and had few troops to spare. His hopes were pinned on Milazza, and the argument remained open between them.

The other piece of good news to come from our sojourn there was that Melisande's couriers had not stopped to spread word of Ysandre's supposed assassination. 'Twould have slowed their course, but it would have made ours more difficult in turn, taking the time to lay the rumors to rest and convince potential allies that our position remained tenable. As it was, Ysandre needed to offer no explanation save that rumor of a minor rebellion at home had reached her ears, necessitating a speedy return.

That was the good news.

The bad news was that Principe Gregorio had received notice that a pair of D'Angeline riders had been found slain on the road slightly west of Pavento, apparently the victims of robbers. Although they had been stripped of their belongings and apparel, we knew them by description-Royal Couriers, the both of them.

Plans within plans and traps within traps; Melisande had anticipated well. No one bore word ahead of us save her hand-picked couriers.

And their lead had lengthened to a good five days.

SEVENTY-NINE

We left Pavento in haste, unburdened of wagons and carriages, pushing our mounts as fast as we dared go. In consultation with the Master of Horse, Lord Trente had determined that we were better off conserving our own animals than seeking fresh mounts for four hundred and some riders.

There was no longer any hope of averting treachery. Whatever would happen, would happen; Melisande's couriers would deliver word to Percy de Somerville well ahead of our return. If the Kritian ship had arrived safely, Roxanne de Mereliot had a full report of de Somerville's betrayal- what she could do about it, I could not say, save pass on my warning to Barquiel L'Envers and other known allies of the Queen, and mayhap begin preparing for war. Quintilius Rousse would lend his aid, but there was little enough the Navy could do on land.

It was no simple matter, for de Somerville held the Royal Army at his command, and was the sovereign Duc of L'Agnace as well. Without proof-and a considerable force at their disposal-they could not arrest him out of hand. And if Ghislain was with him, it meant Azzalle was in rebellion. With Azzalle threatening Namarre's borders, Barquiel would have no support from his own province; indeed, with the news of Ysandre's death, he would find little aid forthcoming from any quarter. The City of Elua would be islanded in the heart of de Somerville's forces.

Of course, if the Kritian ship had not arrived, he would be dead.

The reality of the threat awaiting us upon our return had come home with the death of the two Royal Couriers. At best, we faced a nation on the brink of civil war. We made good speed across the Caerdicci peninsula during that wild journey, and a mood of grim determination united our company.

Many years later, I learned that there are stories still told of the ride of Ysandre de la Courcel's company along the old northern route in Caerdicca Unitas. It was in truth a sight to behold. The Queen's Guard wore gleaming armor with silver inlay, and surcoats of deep-blue with the swan insignia of House Courcel; a dozen and more pennants fluttered in the breeze above us, marking the noble Houses that rode with Ysandre, and the gold lily of Elua on a field of green above them all. 'Twas where we passed without pause that rumor grew, telling of a fell company with a dire light shining on their faces, riding fey and terrible without need for sustenance or sleep, and the beautiful Queen who led them ever onward, onward.

I daresay I laughed when I heard these tales; the commonfolk do not tell them where we made camp for the night, the Bursar bartering with shrewd farmers for use of their fields and streams while four hundred weary and saddle-sore D'Angeline soldiers waited impatiently for orders to dismount, cursing the packhorses milling about and fouling their lead-lines. And yet there is a truth to it, after all.

It took us a week's time to reach Milazza, and our supplies from Pavento held out long enough. Amaury Trente misliked our bypassing cities along the route, forsaking the possibility of raising a Caerdicci army; that much was clear. He had great hopes of Milazza, which lies closest to the inland D'Angeline border of all the great city-states.

Ysandre remained adamant.

"No," she said succinctly. "Whatever else I do, I will not bring a foreign army onto D'Angeline soil, Amaury."

He disheveled his hair, frustrated. By midday tomorrow, we would reach Milazza, and he had counted on convincing the Queen ere now. "Majesty, with a thousand additional men, you can march safely into Eisande-and the Duke of Milazza can spare them, easily. In Blessed Elua's name, will you not hear reason?"

"Reason this, my lord Trente," Ysandre said in an implacable voice. "Percy de Somerville cannot hope to sway the whole of the Royal Army and the people of Terre d'Ange against me unless he makes them believe me a traitor. A Caerdicci army would give him that proof."

"He doesn't even know you're alive!" Amaury shouted, clutching his hair.

"But he will," Ysandre said softly. "He will hear the reports and he will know, though he may deny it and name me an imposter. Shall I be so naive, to assume de Somerville has not planned for the contingency of failure?"

Amaury Trente sighed and dropped his hand to rest on the map spread on the camp-table beside the central fire where Ysandre held her war council. "All right," he said. "All right. Then let us at least make haste to Liguria, and travel by ship to Marsilikos, where we will find safe harbor and allies aplenty." ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">