Kushiels Chosen

by Jacqueline Carey

Page 42

 

  To this, he acceded with another blush.

  I must say, although it accomplished no end in itself, my visit with Madame Felicity d'Arbos proved delightful. A widow of some fifty-odd years, she was one of the D'Angeline noblewomen sent with Prince Benedicte to attend his Serenissiman wife; Allegra's mother had been one of the native Serenissimans so appointed, many years ago. It explained, I thought, a good deal about her education. Felicity's rooms were small, but well-appointed. She had retired from her position when Maria Stregazza had died, but chose to remain at the Little Court, and Prince Benedicte had seen that she was given a generous pension. We sat sipping tea while she told me of her life and her fond memories of the young Allegra and her family.

  "And the Princess-Consort?" I asked politely. "What was she like?"

  "The Serenissiman wife. " Her grey eyes looked shrewdly at me over the rim of her teacup. "That's what they call her, now. 'Twas not so bad, for a time. Oh, she dabbled in intrigue, on behalf of her family, but Benedicte knew how to handle it. No love lost between them, but we all got on well enough. After. . . well, he should never have married his daughters into the Stregazza. That family's too close-bound as it is. The King wanted it, to cement ties, but all it did was breed suspicion, if you ask me. And resentment. "

  "So I've heard," I murmured.

  " 'Tis true enough. " She set her teacup down carefully. "They hate us a little, you know. You won't have seen it, yet, with your youth and beauty. They'll be fresh-dazzled with it yet. But when it wears on, year after year, the dazzlement grates. Maria Stregazza came to hate her husband, while her beauty faded, and his did not. She came to hate the sight of D'Angeline faces around her. It's a hard thing. "

  "I can imagine," I said, thinking of the unspoken enmity of many of the young noblewomen I'd met. "But it must be different, now, with. . . " I smiled. "Do they call her the D'Angeline wife?"

  "The Serenissimans do. " Felicity d'Arbos smiled back at me. "It was good, at the beginning. She pleased them, taking the Veil of Asherat. 'Twas well-considered. Now, well, there is a bit of a tempest, but it will pass soon, I hope. Do you wish to see her?"

  "Is she receiving visitors?" I asked, surprised. "I've not yet received a response to my request for an audience with Prince Benedicte. "

  "Oh, no. " She laughed. "He's busy with affairs of state, and she with the young one. I'll put in a word for you, if I may, to see your request granted. It might do her good to see a fresh young face, the poor thing. But she is like to stroll on the balcony over the Queen's Garden at this hour, with the babe. And I have leave to wander the garden, as I helped plant it many years ago. "

  Since I wished to give my chevaliers as much time as possible, we adjourned to the Queen's Garden and spent a pleasant time therein. It was wholly enclosed by walls, with a single gate to which Felicity d'Arbos had a key. A tiny fountain burbled at its center, and an abundance of roses bloomed, in profusion of color and scent. She pointed out various hybrids to me, and I'd no doubt of where Allegra's mother had acquired her skill.

  "Ah," Felicity murmured presently, and nodded. "There. "

  Attended by two pages and a single guard, a figure strolled the balcony above the garden, tall and slender, clad in an elegant gown of creamy white, overlaid with silver brocade, complimenting the shining silver net of Asherat's Veil. In her arms, Benedicte's young wife held their infant son; I could make out chubby fists waving, and a riot of dark curls. Madame d'Arbos and I both made deep curtsies and held them until they had passed back inside.

  "Poor little lad," Felicity d'Arbos said sympathetically, straightening. " 'Twill be a mercy when he's of an age to foster, and I pray Benedicte has the sense to send him to court in the City of Elua. Maria's kin won't like it, but truth, there's naught for him here in La Serenissima, D'Angeline-bred as he is. "

  Having seen what I had of Serenissiman politics, I could not help but agree. Indeed, I remembered my momentary consideration of Severio's proposal with somewhat of a shudder. La Serenissima was a beautiful city, to be sure, but it was not home to one of Elua's line.

  We said a cordial farewell after our stroll, and I promised to send her greetings on to Allegra Stregazza, and urge her to visit with her two young ones. I daresay I should have sent a page in search of my chevaliers, but it had been a long time since I'd had the liberty to go anywhere unaccompanied, and instead assured Madame d'Arbos that I would meet my attendants by the gate.

  So it was that I wandered the halls of the Little Court on my own, guessing rightly that the guards' quarters would be found in the vicinity of the kitchens. Inside the common room, a dozen and more guardsmen laughed and jested, leaping to attention when the sentry on duty announced me.

  My three chevaliers were there, and I could tell by the gleam in Ti-Philippe's eyes that they had learned somewhat.

  They fell all over themselves offering me a seat, a cup of wine, a bowl of barley stew, all of which I declined.

  "My lady," Fortun said soberly, bowing. "We have been reliving times of old, which you will well remember. This is Geoffroy of L'Agnace, who served at Troyes-le-Mont. And Ignace, and Jean-Vincent, and Telfour, all veterans of the same. You missed Kerney and Meillot, I fear, who were called to duty, but I am told there are others here, as well. Meillot promised to send them if he might. "

  Six or better of the missing guardsmen? I exclaimed in partially unfeigned surprise, and did take a seat, then-and since I'd no idea what had already been said, I kept my mouth closed on the topic of Melisande's escape. For the better part of an hour, they rehashed the fateful battle. My role in it-crossing the Skaldic encampment to alert the fortress-was related with especial glee. I smiled as if flattered, and ignored the phantom pain that flared on my left shoulder, where Waldemar Selig had begun stripping my skin from my flesh. All in all, that escapade was one I did not like to remember.

  "Raimond!" The entry of another guardsman was hailed by his fellows, and he was introduced all around as another of the survivors of Troyes-le-Mont.

  "Well met, soldier!" Remy rose to clap him on the back, laughing. "Come, we're fighting the battle over, and trying to settle somewhat besides. Tell us, what did you see, the night of Melisande Shahrizai's flight?"

  "Ah, well. " Glancing at me, the new arrival bobbed a nervous bow. "Begging your pardon, my lady, to speak of such unhappy things. "

  "Pray, speak freely. " I smiled, and took a gamble. "It is a matter of many outstanding wagers at home, in the betting-houses of Mont Nuit. We might all be the richer for your perspective. "

  Raimond the guard accepted a full mug of wine and quaffed half its contents before sitting. "Naught out of the ordinary, I'm afraid. I was on duty when young Lord Ghislain came 'round at five bells, outside the war room on the first floor. Afore him, I saw naught but Lord Barquiel, the Queen's uncle. Escorting the Lady Persia, he was, her what turned in her cousin. "

  Others murmured agreement.

  My heart beat faster within my breast and I felt dizzy and short of breath. "Duc Barquiel L'Envers. You're sure?"

  "Sure, I'm sure. " He drank off the second half of his wine and looked straight at me. "I served next to him, didn't I? Him with that scarf wrapped round his head, like the Akkadians do, and eyes like the Queen. Never saw aught else, until the alarm sounded. "

  I glanced round at my chevaliers. Remy and Ti-Philippe were vibrant with triumph; Fortun wore a different look, somber and watchful. He shook his head a little when I caught his eye. "Well," I said lightly, "you're like to make his grace the odds-on favorite, although it's no help to me. Whatever happened to the poor fellow who found the sentry at the gate? The one who sounded the alarm?" Snapping my fingers, I glanced at Fortun. "What was his name?"

  "Phanuel Buonard," he supplied. "From Namarre. "

  Raimond shrugged; all the veterans of Troyes-le-Mont shrugged. It was one of the others who said thoughtfully, "Wasn't he the one as resigned his commission? Scarp
ered to marry a Serenissiman lass, I recall. "

  Another laughed. "He resigned without permission. Captain Circot was like to track him down, I think, only he wed into an Isla Vitrari family, and those glassblowers protect their own. Likely he's still there, tending the oven-fires and watching his bride grow a mustache. "

  Amid the jesting that followed, Fortun asked Raimond, "What made you choose to take a commission in the Little Court?"

  "I'd a mind to see somewhat beyond the bounds of Terre d'Ange," the guardsman answered promptly. "Anyway, it pays well, and the Old Man asked for volunteers. "

  I heard it with half an ear, my mind reeling. Barquiel L'Envers with Persia Shahrizai! If it was true, and my suspicions and Marmion's confession held good, 'twas not Persia at all, but Melisande-and the Duc L'Envers himself the traitor. Ysandre's uncle. I kept my countenance serene as I rose, summoning my chevaliers, bidding farewell to all and concealing the dull, terrified thudding of my heart.

  It was a short journey homeward along the Great Canal. Remy and Ti-Philippe were exuberant, and I had to caution them to silence in the boatman's presence as they laid plans to bring this knowledge to Prince Benedicte's attention. All of the missing guardsmen, it seemed, had spoken the same.

  Only Fortun was silent and withdrawn.

  When we had gained the security of our rented home and secluded ourselves against servants' listening ears, Remy and Ti-Philippe recited to me in a litany the guardsmen's testimony. A full half-dozen, each cited by name-and all had seen the same thing. Duc Barquiel L'Envers, escorting Persia Shahrizai. Dizziness threatened again as I wondered how to convince Ysandre, and I had to grip the edge of the table hard to steady myself. I closed my eyes briefly to make the room stop spinning.

  When I opened them, Fortun's somber face caught my eye. "What is it?" I asked him.

  He glanced away, then back at me. "My lady," he said quietly. "You taught me to watch, to listen, for certain things. And there was one thing I could not help but notice. " He cleared his throat. "They all told the exact same story. "

  "They all saw the same damn thing, man!" Ti-Philippe exclaimed, thumping him on the shoulder. "What do you expect?"

  "Look. " Fortun ignored him to lean over the map of Troyes-le-Mont, still laid out on the table. "Here, here and here . . . " he pointed to positions marked on the ground and second floor, ". . . here and here, these are the stations of the guardsmen we spoke to among the Unforgiven. All of them saw a half-dozen folk that night-including Persia Shahrizai in the company of a Cassiline Brother. Look at the routes, my lady. If they're telling the truth, it's impossible that these guardsmen of the Little Court wouldn't have seen the same. ”

  "Mayhap they lied," I suggested. "We cannot always know. "

  Fortun frowned. "The Queen had everyone questioned, including the guard, at length. If two-thirds of the guards on duty saw naught but Barquiel L'Envers and Persia Shahrizai, why did they not come forward then? It would have been suspicious. " He sighed and rumpled his hair. "Someone is lying, yes. But I think it is these guardsmen, and not well. They have been poorly coached. I asked them why they took posts in La Serenissima. You heard Raimond; they all gave the same answer. And," he added softly, "they were all sent by the same man. "

  My blood ran cold in my veins, and my lips felt stiff as I forced myself to speak. "What are you suggesting?"

  "My lady. " Fortun folded his hands on the table, his face grave. "Ghislain de Somerville gave the guardsmen of Troyes-le-Mont leave to join the Unforgiven, and those who returned reported to his father Percy. And Lord Percy made sure, very sure, that those men were sent even farther away than Camlach, all the way to La Serenissima. It is passing strange, I think, that he should send Prince Benedicte reinforcements consisting wholly of the missing guardsmen of Troyes-le-Mont. As it is passing strange all of them should volunteer. "

  The others had fallen silent. We were all silent. I wanted, very much, to dismiss Fortun's conjecture. These displaced guardsmen of the Little Court had given me the answer I had sought for so long, laying it into my hands. I did not like Barquiel L'Envers; had never, ever trusted him. Nor had my lord Delaunay, who had trained me.

  As I had trained Fortun, the best of my chevaliers, who had been there and listened with a critical ear, at my own behest. And if I had any faith in my own training, I could not afford to discount his analysis.

  "Phanuel Buonard," I said. "He is still here, if the guardsmen spoke true. On the glassblowers' isle. We need to question him. " And I did not need Fortun to say, remembering all too well on my own, that it was not the veterans of Troyes-le-Mont who had volunteered this information. They had played dumb, to a man, regarding the fate of their own comrade-in-arms. It was the long-term appointees to the Little Court who'd offered the knowledge.

  "I'll see what I might learn," Fortun said quietly.

  I slept ill that night and dreamed, for the first time since my visit to Gentian House. I dreamed of the first time I'd met Percy de Somerville, when the Alban delegation had visited the court of Terre d'Ange. Delaunay had counted him an ally, always, but he'd sent Alcuin to his bed to seal the alliance. Not a true friend, I thought, or Delaunay would not have felt the need. And Alcuin had gone, with never a protest, never letting it show how much he detested Naamah's Service. Percy de Somerville, with whom Delaunay had fought at the Battle of Three Princes; he and dead Prince Rolande, and Benedicte de la Courcel. In my dream, I remembered his upright bearing, his handsome, aging gentleman-farmer's features, white teeth smiling and the smell of apples in the air, heavy and cloying.