Kushiels Chosen

by Jacqueline Carey

Page 67

 

  He moved, one hand groping, feeling along my arm to take my hand and grip it hard, and then the pain Of remembered guilt struck again and his grip bore down on mine, until I could feel the bones in my hand grinding, and I was remembering, remembering . . .

  . . . how I had led Joscelin to murder the thane Trygve, strangling him to win our freedom, letting Joscelin take that darkness on his soul; how I had stabbed Harald the Beardless, killing him with my own hands, and others, so many others! I had done it, I had done it all. I whispered a hoarse, futile plea for forgiveness, remembering. All the dead of the Dalriada, whom I beguiled into war; Eamonn mac Connor, his bright hair against the blood-soaked battlefield. Hyacinthe, ah, Elua, Hyacinthe! Not dead, but a worse fate; I wept in the darkness. Magister Acco, whom I drove to take his own life, and poor Tito of La Dolorosa, whose kindness I had cultivated to my own ends.

  It was my fault, all mine.

  I have known pain-Elua knows, I have known pain. It is my gift and my art to endure it, and even I have known pain beyond bearing, under Waldemar Selig's knife on the fields of Troyes-le-Mont.

  This was worse.

  After a time, I was no longer aware of specific incidences of blood-guilt, but only the vast, featureless agony of it. It bore me up and carried me down all at once, and I felt the surge of it in my very bones. A scream gathered at the back of my throat and I locked my jaws on it, thinking, I will not scream, I will not scream, until I was not sure whether I thought it or said it, whether I screamed or not. I saw red in the blackness of the cavern, and Kushiel's face before me, stern and bronze, lips shaping words I could not understand; I thought, if only I could, all would be redeemed, but I could not concentrate for the vastness of my sins. And then it came to me that if only I gave my signale, all of this will end, and I heard Melisande's voice telling me as 'much, rich as honey, coming from somewhere beyond the pain . . .

  . . . and thought with my last gasp of consciousness, no!

  SIXTY-ONE

  There were voices speaking somewhere.

  It seemed I had to come back from a very long distance to make sense of them, to derive words and sentences from the meaningless sounds assailing my ears. I could not understand why it seemed so very difficult, but it did, for even when I recognized the sounds as speech, I could not make out what they said, although they seemed very close at hand. Ah, I thought, pleased at the discovery, it is because they are speaking Hellene, and it seemed to me that I knew that tongue. I fumbled for it with difficulty, and thought perhaps if I opened my eyes, it would be easier to think. I tried to do so, but it was hard, for my lashes were glued shut with sticky matter.

  ". . . move her or tend her here?"

  Yes, I thought, I know that voice; that is the Hierophant of the Temenos. I am on the island of Kriti in the place called Temenos, and I have profaned their mystery.

  "Hush. She is waking. "

  I knew that voice, too. It belonged to Pasiphae Asterius, daughter of the House of Minos, who is called the Kore.

  "Here. " There was a sound of someone moving, the faint slosh of water, and then I felt my eyes gently bathed with a damp cloth. I opened them, and saw the Kore kneeling beside me, frowning gravely, still clad in her ritual regalia. "Can you speak, Phèdre?"

  I wasn't sure. I opened my mouth and tried it. "Yes, my lady. "

  A war whoop sounded somewhere behind her; loud enough to split the cavern roof, I thought, and surely loud enough to split my skull. And then I was scooped up from the floor where I lay into a vertiginous, bone-rattling embrace by a grinning Kazan Atrabiades.

  "Kazan! Put her down!”

  He did; if he did not know Hellene, he knew what the Kore meant. I wavered unsteadily on my feet, clinging to his sleeve. He was still grinning, and his face was as joyous as a lad's. I moved my head slightly, tested my limbs to see if they yet worked. It seemed they did. The Kore and the Hierophant and a handful of initiates all stood within the sunlit cavern, staring at me with incomprehension in their dark Kritian eyes.

  "You are . . . well?" Pasiphae asked cautiously.

  I moved my tongue around in my mouth and swallowed. It seemed that worked, too. "I am . . . alive, my lady. "

  The scions of Minos exchanged a glance, and the Hierophant spread his hands, relinquishing judgement. Pasiphae shook her head, still frowning. "No one has ever undergone the thetalos undedicated and lived to tell of it. I cannot bestow the rites of absolution upon you, Phèdre, but Mother Dia has spared you, and where She shows mercy, we can but follow. If you are able to walk, we will return to the Palace and speak of this later. "

  "I understand. "

  I made the return journey unaided, although the procession had to stop many times so I could rest. By light of day, the Kritians-even Pasiphae-looked worn from the ordeal of the ritual; among the initiates, flutes and drums dangled loosely from their hands. They looked at me often, uncertainty in their dark eyes. Only Kazan was exultant with energy and high spirits. Whatever had transpired in the cavern, he had come out of it changed.

  In the Palace, I was shown to my former chamber and given fish broth and mulled wine to drink. One of the elder initiates remained at my side, and Kazan hovered in the room until she made to chase him away.

  "She wants you to leave, Kazan," I informed him; through layers of exhaustion, I was aware of being amused. "I'm supposed to rest. Go speak to Tormos and the others; they're waiting to hear news of you. "

  "I am in your debt, now. " He sat on the edge of my bed and looked serious, speaking in Illyrian. "I would not have survived it without you, Phèdre. When I would not leave, you held onto my hand and spoke to me, telling me you would not leave me, that you would stay and we would endure it together and live to greet the day. "

  "I did?" I stared wearily at him; I had no recollection of having said such things.

  "You did. " Unexpectedly, he grinned again, showing the gap in his teeth. "And I followed the thread of your voice like Theseú in the labyrinth! Only . . . ," he sobered, ". . . only the Kore opened the door for me at the end, and you were left in darkness. Why, I do not know. "

  "I do," I said softly. "Kazan, I was trespassing there. "

  "Maybe. " He thought about it and shuddered. "Still, I would have died. "

  "You didn't. And I didn't. Now go and talk to your men. " I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the pillows. Through the veils of approaching sleep, I could hear Kazan threatening the initiate with vile consequences if any harm came to me, and her indignant insistence that he leave. Neither one understood a word the other was saying, which would have made me smile, if I could, but I was too far away, and presently I heard no more.

  All that day and through the night I slept, waking to the light of a new day. The world seemed bright in my eyes, new-washed and clean, all the colors more vivid than I remembered them. Though I was as weak still as a day-old kitten, I felt peaceful and calm. Not long after I had broken my fast, a second initiate came-for I had been watched and tended in shifts while I slept-bearing a summons to see the Kore.

  New clothing had been laid out for me, rather finer than before; a gown of saffron with a crimson mantle. I took my care with dressing, settling the mantle about my shoulders, and went to answer Pasiphae's summons.

  She received me in the throne room, waving me to a stool when I would have knelt. "Sit. " Once I had done so, she regarded me for a moment without speaking. "I do not know what to make of you, Phèdre nó Delaunay. I have consulted the records, and they do not speak of such a thing, that one should profane the mystery of the thetalos and emerge intact. No auguries speak; the house snakes take their milk and bask content; Mother Dia is not wroth, and Zagreus is silent. And yet I think you have not escaped unscathed. "

  "No," I said. "I would not say so. "

  "Tell me what transpired. "

  I told her willingly enough, speaking from the small, still core at my center. When I h
ad done, she nodded gravely. "Yes. That is the nature of it, to confront the worst of one's inner self unveiled. It grieves me that I cannot absolve you of these things, and yet. . . " She shook her head. "The gods keep their silence. It may not be. What you have seen, you carry with you. "

  "I know," I said softly. "I understand, my lady; truly, I do. "

  Pasiphae looked at me with compassion. "Understand this, then. It is the darkest truth that is revealed in the cavern of the thetalos; the truths we seek to hide from ourselves. That does not mean it is the whole truth, Phèdre. "

  "No. " I considered my answer. "I know that, too. My lady, I saw things in that cavern I would undo, if I could; acts of pride and selfishness I shudder to think on. But others . . . who can say? Many have died for my choices; many have not. The Goddess looks out from the past and counts the dead, but she does not number our living. "

  "Oh . . . " Pasiphae's lips curved in a faint smile, ". . . she does, you may be sure of it. But that tally is never given to us to know. Still and all, it is clear to me that some god's hand is on you in this matter, and I will not intervene, nor gainsay what is done. When you are able to travel, I will give you the aid I promised-a letter of conduct to the Archon of Phaistos, and conveyance to the city. It is only an hour's ride. "

  "To the wide harbor and the company of men," I mused aloud. "Thank you, my lady Kore. "

  "It is nothing. " Her thoughtful gaze rested on me. "Kazan Atrabiades has made a dedication-offering of gold, as is fitting, and Oeneus has seen to it that his ship has been rendered seaworthy. But you . . . you have brought a mystery for me to ponder, and that is worth more than gold. I am grateful for it, Phèdre nó Delaunay. It does not always come to pass during the lifetime of those who serve as the Kore of the Temenos. I hope that you have found here what you sought. "

  I shifted on my stool. "My lady, if it allows me to return from whence I came and prevent my Queen from being slain out of hand, then yes, I have. Is it possible that we might leave for Phaistos on the morrow?"

  It startled her, enough so that an ordinary mortal woman looked out from her deep priestess' eyes. "Tomorrow? You would ride so soon, after what you have endured?"

  "Time is a luxury I do not have. " I rolled my shoulders; my body was stiff and sore, but it would serve. "For good or for ill, I am Kushiel's Chosen, my lady. "

  "A harsh god," she murmured, "and a strange one. Well and so, it shall be as you wish. I will speak to Oeneus, and he shall make the arrangements. Demetrios Asterius is Archon of the city; he is of the Kindred, with a keen eye for trade. You will like him, I think," she added, smiling. "He is high-spirited, but do not be fooled; he is shrewd for all his play. I will commend you to him. "

  "I am in your debt. "

  "No. " Pasiphae shook her head. "As you were sent, so do I serve. These things we do, at the command of the gods. Phèdre, though I cannot grant you absolution, you may have my blessing if you will it. "

  "It would please me, my lady," I answered truthfully. So I knelt to her after all, and she laid her hand upon my head and gave the invocation in her clear voice. I felt the power of it echo in my bones, and knew I had brushed the very heart of a mystery in this place.

  She was as good as her word, and in the morning, we were granted transport. There were ten of us, all told, for those men who were injured had recovered well enough under her care; six would sail the ship to Kommos harbor, under Tormos' command, to await Kazan's orders there. Glaukos would travel with them, to serve as translator. For the rest of us, Kazan and I and two others-Spiridon and Gavril, their names were-we would travel by oxcart to the city of Phaistos.

  No farmer's wagon, this, but a splendid conveyance, the sides worked with elaborate trim and a device of wheat sheaves and twining vines which symbolized the union of Mother Dia and Zagreus, her consort-son. Even the oxen were noble beasts, with broad brows and gentle eyes, their horns tipped with gilded caps. They know a thing or two about breeding cattle, on Kritì. Our driver was slight and dark with a quick smile, though he spoke seldom.

  Thus did we take our leave.

  If the Temenos seemed a world unto itself, displaced from time, such was not true of the rest of the isle. We left by a narrow road winding between the low mountains, but soon gained the fertile plains of the Messara valley, where all manner of crops grow bountifully. The road widened and we met other travellers on foot and on horse- or donkey-back, and indeed, in farmer's wagons laden with produce, for it seemed it was market day in Phaistos. Our driver whistled through his teeth and nodded greetings from time to time; other travellers touched their brows in acknowledgement, and I knew without asking that they knew he served the Kore.

  Kazan took it all in with a boy's wide-eyed wonder, and I am not too proud to admit that I envied him that, a little. No shadow of pain overlaid his soul; absolution had granted him a fresh-washed slate. But I was an anguissette, and the memory of pain was a familiar companion to me, never wholly unwelcome. I was what I was. It was enough.

  And I had my own troubles to brood upon still.

  When we were well clear of the Temenos, I asked him, though I feared to broach the topic. "Kazan," I said softly, below the creak of the oxcart, speaking in Caerdicci that none of our companions would overhear. I did not wish to pressure him unduly. "What will you do, now that you are free of the blood-curse? Will you return home, to Epidauro?"

  "Do?" He looked at me in surprise. "Did the Kore not speak to you of this, Phèdre? If this Archon, he will grant you the aid of Kriti, eh, then it is good, and I will go, but she does not think he will send warships, he. So we will see what he does, yes, and I will do what you ask, for I have a debt to you, eh?" His expression turned sober. "It is not only that I owe you my life, you, although I do. If I had done as you asked, if I had sailed to Marsilikos and not Dobrek, eh, none of this would have happened. And if I had spoken true when Nikanor returned; then, too. I could have sent you to Epidauro, yes, though I could not go myself; the Ban could have made a mighty alliance with your country. Such things did I see, I," he added quietly, "in the cavern. "