Kushiel 03 - [Moirin 01] - Naamah's Kiss

by Jacqueline Carey

  The Ch’in ship was enormous. It dwarfed all the other ships in the harbor, at least three times larger than the second largest. It had five masts adorned with vivid red sails shaped unlike any other ship’s sails, and towered several stories high, the sides of its upper deck adorned with ornate scrollwork. My mouth fell open at the sight of it.

  “Careful,” Bao said. “You catch flies.”

  I closed my mouth. “Master Lo… I mean no disrespect. But all this just to fetch you home?”

  “Emperor Zhu loves his daughter very much.” He looked troubled. “Too much, perhaps. He would spare no effort to save her life.”

  I’d been too caught up in my own concerns to give much thought to the Emperor’s daughter. “But you said it wasn’t a mortal illness.”

  “No.” He hesitated. “The matter is complicated. I would speak of it later unless it may change your thoughts on accompanying us. I wish to be fair.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Later, then.”

  We proceeded to the quay. At least I wasn’t alone; there were D’Angelines and trader-folk of other nations gathered to stare at the greatship, still a novelty after many days. They stared at us, too, and I heard murmurs among the D’Angelines. A few covert fingers pointed and I heard my name whispered. We’d made good time, but we hadn’t outpaced gossip.

  If there were any question about it, it was confirmed by the arrival of the harbor-master, striding down the dock with a handful of armed guards. His gaze went straight to me. “Moirin mac Fainche?”

  “Aye.” I wondered what in the world he wanted.

  There was nothing friendly in his expression. “Her grace the Duchese de Mereliot wishes an audience with you. Yon floating castle’s going nowhere until she gets it.”

  The Lady of Marsilikos.

  Raphael’s sister.

  I’d managed to avoid thinking about that fact, having avoided thinking about Raphael altogether.

  “This lady look for a concubine, too?” Bao asked insolently.

  “No,” I murmured. “She’s Raphael de Mereliot’s sister. I think I’d best see what she wants. I don’t want to cause any trouble here.”

  Bao conferred with Master Lo Feng. “I go with you.”

  I eyed the guards. “All right.”

  It felt reassuring to have Bao at my side as we accompanied the harbor-master to the palace. The guards regarded him with disdain, but I’d seen him whip his staff around with lightning speed, driving back Focalor without a trace of fear. If there was trouble, I had a feeling Master Lo’s magpie was a handy person to have around.

  The palace steward escorted us into a beautifully appointed salon. A young woman awaited us in a high-backed chair, surrounded by peers and attendants, none of whom looked friendly. She sat very upright, arms stiff along the chair-arms. I would have known her anywhere as Raphael’s sister. Her hair was darker than his, but she had the same storm-grey eyes, the same lips, the same jawline sculpted by a more delicate hand.

  Right now, those eyes were staring at me and filled with contempt.

  “So you’re Moirin,” she said in a venomous tone. “I wanted to see the bitch that ruined my brother.”

  “Your stupid brother ruin his own damn self, lady,” Bao retorted.

  Her gaze shifted to him. “What is this and why is it speaking?”

  I sighed. “Bao, will you keep a civil tongue for once? My lady…” I dredged her name out of memory. “My lady Eleanore, I’m sorry about what passed between your brother and I, but I’ll not accept sole blame for it.”

  Eleanore de Mereliot’s voice rose. “You made him a laughingstock! And now nigh onto a traitor!”

  I stood my ground. “How well do you know your brother, my lady?”

  “He’s my brother!”

  “Aye,” I nodded. “And he is a beautiful, compelling man who possesses great gifts and harbors terrifying ambitions. I don’t know why. I asked him to speak of it, and he refused.” Tired of gossip and distortion, I held her gaze and spoke the truth that was in my heart, hoping she might hear it and understand. “I suspect it has something to do with the loss of your parents and the lingering sense of helplessness it left in him. And mayhap with this.” I gestured around. “Always knowing that you were the heir to Marsilikos, while he, the firstborn, was expendable.”

  She was silent.

  “Mayhap it has to do with his love for Queen Jehanne,” I added. “And her choosing his majesty over him, despite loving Raphael, too. I don’t know. All I know is that nothing he’s ever wanted has been his in full, and it’s left a void in him.” I smiled wistfully. “I would have filled it if I could have. I thought he was my destiny. In the beginning, I would have given him my heart. But that’s not what he wanted.”

  “And so you betrayed him for it?” Eleanore’s gaze remained hard. “Chose to humiliate him publicly?”

  “Your damn brother almost kill her!” Bao interjected.

  I wanted to clamp my hand over his mouth; but he was right, and I was growing angry. “Being with your brother was killing me, my lady. Do you think I lie? A woman is dead because of Raphael’s ambitions! I watched her die before my eyes! Do you think I forced him into sorcery? I didn’t want any bedamned part of it!” I was shouting. “I did it at first because I was too stupid and besotted to say no to him, and I did it at the end because it was the only way he’d agree to help save my father’s life!”

  The Lady of Marsilikos blanched. “Raphael wouldn’t do such a thing!”

  “But he did,” I said grimly. “Lady Eleanore, I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. And I have nothing further to say on the topic of your brother. Am I free to go?”

  She looked away and gave a brief nod. “Mayhap there is truth to what you say,” she said in a bitter voice. “Even so, I would to Elua that he’d never met you, for you brought out the worst in him.”

  “I know.” Now I just felt weary. “I wish it had been otherwise.”

  Raphael’s sister looked back at me. “Get out of my sight.”

  Gawking at the exchange, the guards were slow to clear our path to the door. Bao spun his staff so fast it was a blur, one end coming to an abrupt halt a scant inch from the nearest guard’s chin. The guard flushed with anger and reached for his sword-hilt, then thought better of it and stepped back.

  “Smart man.” Bao’s voice was as smooth as silk. I didn’t know whether I wanted to hug him or thump him. Both, mayhap.

  We rode back to the harbor together. There was no escort this time, for which I was grateful.

  “Thank you for coming with me,” I said to Bao. “I wouldn’t have liked to face that alone.”

  He nodded. “She mad because she love her brother. Still, not fair to you. I not like the way they treat you.” He glanced at me. “Feel pretty good to yell, huh?”

  “Aye.” I hadn’t realized it, but he was right. I carried a great deal of unspoken anger toward Raphael. “Still, not fair to her, either. She didn’t know the truth—or, at least, didn’t want to believe it.”

  Bao shrugged. “Life is not fair.”

  There was something else troubling me that I hadn’t spoken of. “Bao… do you think we drove the spirit wholly out of him?”

  He was silent a moment. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. When I looked back at Raphael at the end, the last glimpse I had of him, it seemed like there was something there.” I touched my breast, where my diadh-anam had never ceased to quicken for him. “Whatever’s between us, I’m not sure it’s over.”

  Bao snorted. “You think he follow you over the ocean?”

  I didn’t. “No.”

  “Better hope it over. Lion Mane no good for you. That demon-spirit…” He shook his head. “Ask Master Lo. Maybe he know, maybe not. Is a foreign demon. Not the same as demon-spirit at home like the one got into the Emperor’s daughter.”

  I reined Blossom to a halt. “What?”

  Bao looked guilty. “Master Lo, he want to tell you his own se
lf.”

  I felt lightheaded. “Is that why he asked me to come? Does he expect me to banish it into the spirit world like I did Focalor? Does he expect me to survive this time?”

  “No!” He flushed. “Master Lo ask you to come because you his student. He meant to teach you. All the signs say so.”

  “What signs?” I asked.

  Bao leaned over in the saddle and tapped my breast-bone. “You feel it here?”

  “Aye,” I admitted.

  “That the only sign you need.”

  “Is that how it was for you?” I was curious. “How did you come to be Master Lo’s… magpie?”

  He regarded me through half-lidded eyes. “You ask a lot of question. One day, I tell you. Not today.”

  “All right. I’ll wait.” I didn’t know why I was so curious, except that Bao was the nearest thing I had to a comrade in this venture and he was an enigma to me. If he disliked me half as much as he pretended at times, I was in for a miserable journey—but I didn’t think that he did.

  I knew that Master Lo Feng had chosen in his latter years to wander the world in search of further wisdom and worthy pupils to impart it to. I knew that he’d chosen Terre d’Ange as a destination because he was curious about tales of an entire folk descended from a wandering god and his divine Companions, and the land in which Blessed Elua had chosen to settle.

  Why Bao had chosen to accompany him, I hadn’t the faintest idea.

  When we returned to the quay, the harbor-master’s second in command gave us grudging approval to board the immense Ch’in ship. I whispered reassuring things in my filly Blossom’s ears, soothing her with my thoughts until her hide stopped shuddering and she suffered herself to be led aboard, disappearing into the belly of the hold.

  Stone and sea, the ship was huge!

  And I felt lost boarding it. Everything that was familiar fell away behind me. I was surrounded by Ch’in soldiers and sailors chattering in their own tongue, eyeing me with a mixture of curiosity and disapproval.

  We were given rooms on the next-to-upper deck. Master Lo Feng’s was large and sumptuous; mine and Bao’s smaller quarters adjoined it on either side. The wood was rich and glossy and smelled very nice, mixed with the tang of sea air. Left alone in my chamber, I breathed in deeply and tried to fight a rising sense of panic.

  “Here.” Bao appeared, lugging a heavy pot in his arms. Snowdrops, the bulbs dormant but alive beneath burlap wrappings. He set it on the floor. “Master Lo say they better with you; you feel better.”

  I listened to their faint song.

  Better.

  Keeping them alive gave me a purpose. As for the rest, I would have to learn and adjust. I nodded at the bed. I recognized the raised pallet’s purpose, but not the odd, low, scooped wooden structure at the far end. “My thanks. Bao… what is that?”

  He stared at me. “A bed?”

  I pointed. “That?”

  “For rest your head.” He clasped his hands behind his neck. “Like so.”

  “Oh.”

  “You want I show you?”

  “Nooo…” I wasn’t ready for the sight of Bao in my bed. “You reckon that a pillow?”

  “Uh-huh.” He nodded. “We sail now. You want to see?”

  “Aye, I suppose.”

  Sailors were swarming all over the main deck. Somewhere below, incredibly long oars protruded from oar-holes and began to churn the water, turning the ponderous vessel. Bao led me to the stern of the ship on the uppermost deck. We watched the harbor of Marsilikos appear before us as the massive ship turned.

  “They use oar only in the harbor,” Bao told me. “Only wind and water moving at sea.” He lowered his voice. “They not open the bag of wind here where foreigners can see.”

  “Bag of…” I gave him a startled look. “I thought that was just a turn of phrase. You mean there actually is a bag of wind?”

  He nodded. “Long time ago the Emperor marry the wind god’s daughter. Thousand years ago. Almost empty now, maybe. Better to save.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. I gripped the railing and watched the harbor slowly fall away behind us as the ship’s mighty sails filled and it got under way, moving at a stately pace past smaller vessels. Bao stood beside me, silent for once, leaning on his staff. Terre d’Ange, the land that had adopted me in unexpected ways, dwindled in my vision until the golden dome of the Palace of Marsilikos was only a bright glint on the horizon.

  I turned to face the open sea.

  I was leaving a mess of intrigue, ambition, and betrayal behind me, as well as love and trust and acceptance I’d never imagined finding. My father. Jehanne. I was venturing farther into the unknown, farther from my home and my people. My mother. And I still hadn’t the faintest idea what it all meant.

  But my diadh-anam burned strongly in my breast and I felt the Maghuin Dhonn’s approval; and too, I felt the presence of Naamah’s blessing on me, and to a lesser degree, Anael’s.

  I was venturing into the unknown, but I carried my gods within me.

  “Well,” I said aloud. “Here we go.”

  FIFTY-FIVE

  We were at sea for a very, very long time.

  For the first few days, I felt strange to myself. Truly, the ship was more like a floating city than a ship—based, to be sure, on my very limited experience with ships. I was surprised to learn there were other women aboard.

  “Companion for the soldier,” Bao explained. “All noble sons who agree to come search for Master Lo.”

  “Oh,” I said for the thousandth time.

  The women tittered behind their hands when they saw me and wanted nothing more to do with me—not that I could have spoken to them if they had. The men, soldiers and sailors alike, eyed me askance. I didn’t know if it was because I was reputed to be a witch, or the Queen’s concubine, or simply because I was foreign.

  “All three,” Bao explained. “Mostly…” He reconsidered. “No. All three.” He regarded me with indolent curiosity. “What you do in bed, anyway? Two women together. Yin-yin.” He banged closed fists together. “Makes no sense.”

  I scowled at him. “Nothing that concerns you.”

  He shrugged. “Fine.”

  Everything was strange.

  The food was strange, laced with strange spices. Not bad, but strange. I ate what was brought to me, fumbling with the lacquered wooden sticks the Ch’in used for eating utensils. The bed with its wooden pillow was strange. The pillow made my neck ache. I tried to use it only once. After that, I slept with my head cushioned on my arms.

  For a mercy, there was Master Lo Feng.

  There was a small terrace extending beyond his quarters in the next-to-highest deck and it was there that we met for lessons, Bao spreading straw mats on the wooden planking with his usual alacrity. We sat cross-legged on them.

  “Happiness is rooted in misery,” Master Lo Feng said in his tranquil voice, his wrinkled eyelids closed. “Misery lurks beneath happiness. Who knows what the future holds?”

  I didn’t.

  I breathed the Five Styles and thought about his words as I cycled through them. Like all the verses he gave me to contemplate, it was deceptively simple. I was beginning to get a better sense of the philosophy of the Way; a sense of how all things were in flux and yet all things were in balance, and one thing gave way to another thing. All things arose from the Way and all things returned to it. But today I couldn’t find that point of stillness. I couldn’t ponder the future without a very large question plaguing me. “Master Lo?”

  “Yes?”

  “What ails the Emperor’s daughter?”

  He opened his eyes. “I have been waiting for you to ask. Are you ready to hear?”

  I nodded. “Aye.”

  Master Lo Feng folded his hands into his sleeves. “Xue Hu was born to Emperor Zhu’s Third Concubine. Although he tried for many years with the Empress and many concubines, she is his only child. As I told you, he loves her very much. Although his councilors advised him
to adopt a male heir, the Emperor refused to do so. Against their wishes, he named Xue Hu his heir.”

  “Her name mean Snow Tiger,” Bao added helpfully.

  “So it does.” Master Lo gazed into the distance. “And it suited her. She was a beautiful, fearless child. Emperor Zhu was determined that she should inherit the Celestial Throne. He raised her as he would a warrior son. When I last saw her, she could ride and shoot and wield a sword as well as any boy her age.”

  Bao nudged me. “Maybe she like to take a concubine.”

  I ignored him. “What happened?”

  Master Lo’s gaze returned. “Before I left, a marriage was arranged for her to the son and heir of a feudal lord in the south. All agreed it was a good match and would bring greater peace to the Celestial Empire.” He sighed. “According to General Tsieh, the marriage took place as planned eight months ago. That day, the Empire celebrated. That night, Xue Hu went mad and tore her bridegroom limb from limb in the bridal chamber.”

  My mouth fell open. I closed it before Bao could mock me. “Truly?”

  “I fear so.” His gaze was somber. “A demon-spirit took possession of her. Every effort was made to drive it out.”

  “Pao and mirrors?”

  Master Lo Feng smiled sadly. “Oh, yes. And many more. Lord Jiang, the bridegroom’s father, lent his own great physician to the effort, Li Xiu.”

  “Black Sleeve,” Bao murmured. “Not only physician. Sorcerer. Not so nice.”

  My mentor nodded with a troubled look. “But he knows much of the spirit world and much of alchemy. When Black Sleeve’s efforts failed, Lord Jiang called for Snow Tiger’s execution, threatening rebellion in the southern provinces if she were not put to death to avenge his son’s murder. That is when Emperor Zhu sent for me. That is all I know.”

  I exhaled. “Do you reckon she lives?”

  “I hope it may be so,” Master Lo said. “General Tsieh says the Emperor had a special chamber with iron bars built to hold her.” His brow furrowed. “The madness comes upon her when she beholds her reflection, even in another’s eyes. When it comes, she knows only unnatural strength and rage. Snow Tiger suffers herself to be blindfolded willingly and grieves over her deed. Blind, she knows herself.”