Kushiels Chosen Read online

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  Also in our train was a wagon for our gear, tents and foodstuffs, and pack-mules for my retainers' possessions. There was even a pair of saddle-horses we led unridden, fresh mounts for Remy and Ti-Philippe, who dashed back and forth between our slow party and the City.

  "You'll need a carriage," Fortun said pragmatically as we drew near to the City. "It won't do for the Comtesse de Montrève to ride astride, my lady. But I reckon it can wait until we've sold the wool. "

  "It will have to. " I had supposed, before Ysandre's Chancellor of the Exchequer had informed me that I was the inheritor of Delaunay's estate and never-claimed title, that all D'Angeline nobles had coin in abundance; in truth, it was not so. I drew a modest income from my holdings at Montrève, and I had funds from the recompense of Delaunay's City house. It had been seized upon his death, when I was judged in absentia to be his murderer. Now, my name was clear, thanks to Ysandre's intervention. In the City of Elua, it is known that I loved my lord Delaunay well and had no part in his death; as he named me his heir, so did I inherit. Still, I had no wish to dwell in the place where he died.

  So, his estate of Montrève I inherited, and I accepted recompense for the sale of his home in the City; but the proceeds from the former went toward the payment and equipage of my retainers, and the latter toward the purchase of a home for us. Of the small amount that remained, I confess, a great deal went into my library.

  Those purchases, I did not regret. All knowledge is worth having, Delaunay used to say; and I had every intention of putting what I garnered to good use. But it left me with little in the way of capital.

  I had a diamond, once, that would have financed the beginnings of a salon any courtesan might envy. Thinking on it, I touched my bare throat where it used to hang. I would rather have starved than profit from that gem.

  As we rode nigh to the southern gate, Fortun raised the banner of Montrève; green, a crescent moon in argent upper right, and sable crag lower left. The City Guard hoisted their spears in answer, a shout sounding from the white walls- Ti-Philippe, dicing with the Guard, had been awaiting our arrival. I heard a ragged chant arise, all too familiar: the marching-song of Phèdre's Boys, born out of our desperate quest to Alba.

  Glancing at Joscelin, I saw his shoulders set with resignation.

  So we entered the City.

  In some parts, it was small, and in others, vaster and more lovely than I remembered, gracious and proud. Ti-Philippe scrambled down to meet us, and led us inward, along the winding course of the river toward the Palace. In the street, citizens paused and watched curiously, marking our passage. I could hear the rumors begin to spread. To the east, the hill of Mont Nuit sloped upward. The Night Court was there, with its Thirteen Houses, where I had received my earliest training; in Cereus House, First among the Thirteen. At its foot lay Night's Doorstep, my refuge, where Hyacinthe had established himself as the Prince of Travellers.

  That was the past. The future lay before us. In sight of the Palace, at the juncture of a narrow street, Remy met us. After a hurried conference, Ti-Philippe took stewardship of the wool-wagons, leading them to the worsters' district.

  "My lady. " Remy grinned, and swept me a bow from the saddle, rising to point down the street. "Your quarters await you!"

  If anyone might question the wisdom of allowing my wild sailor-lads to seek out lodgings for us, their fears would be mislaid; they were jealous of my honor, Phèdre's Boys, and no one was allowed to mock it save they themselves. Hidden away in the shadow of the Palace, it was a charming house. It had a tiny courtyard near overgrown with shade vines, a stable and a deceptively generous layout, being narrow, but deep. There was ample room for our party.

  "I contracted a kitchen-mistress," Remy said anxiously, "and a day-maid. There's a lad to help with the stables, and I reckon between the three . . . four of us . . . " he shot a glance at Joscelin, ". . . we can do what else needs doing. Will it suit, my lady?"

  I stood in the entry, where the winter light filtered cool and green through the hardy vines. "It will suit," I said, catching my breath in a laugh. "It will suit most admirably, chevalier!"

  Thus did I take up residence as the Comtesse de Montrève in the City of Elua.

  My first invitation arrived before I'd scarce gotten settled; no surprise, for I'd written to Cecilie in advance that I was returning. We had maintained a steady correspondence during my time at Montrève, for in addition to being one of my oldest acquaintances-and one of the few I trusted nearly as much as I did Joscelin-she was a delightful correspondent, her letters laden with bits of news and gossip that I relished to no end. I accepted her invitation at once.

  "Phèdre. " Meeting me at her door, Cecilie Laveau-Perrin enfolded me unhesitatingly in a warm embrace that I returned without reserve. Her light-blue eyes, set in a face no less beautiful for encroaching age, glowed as she held me at arm's length. "You look well. Country living must suit you. " Smiling, she gave Joscelin the kiss of greeting. "And Joscelin Verreuil! I am still jealous of Cassiel's claim upon you. "

  Joscelin flushed to the roots of his hair and murmured something in reply; he had been more gracious, the last time. "With your permission," he said stiffly to me, "I'll see if I can find the scholars' hall that Seth ben Yavin spoke of, and return for you in a few hours' time. I'm sure you and the Lady Cecilie have much to discuss. "

  "As you wish. " It was awkward, this formality between us; I could have bitten my tongue at the tone of my voice, though it was no cooler than his.

  Cecilie raised her eyebrows, but said nothing until we were seated in her lesser parlour, the cozily appointed room where she received her intimate friends. A maidservant poured wine and brought a tray of delicacies, withdrawing with the immaculate discretion of one trained to serve an adept of Cereus House. "So did the strain of your star-crossed union prove too great, my dear?" she asked then, kindly.

  "Not in Montrève, no. " I shook my head and took a sip of wine, then drew a deep breath. "I am returning to the Service of Naamah. "

  "Ah. " Cecilie rested her chin on her fingertips, regarding me. "And Messire Joscelin grieves. Well, I did not think Naamah had done with you, Phèdre," she said, surprising me. "You were born to be one of the great ones, not to waste your youth on sheep-shearings and barn dances. How old are you? Twenty?"

  'Twenty-two. " A touch of indignation in my tone made her smile.

  "You see? Scarce out of girlhood. " She toyed with a strand of pearls, but her pale blue eyes were shrewd. "Although I'll allow that you've seen and done things no Night Court adept could survive. Still, in ten years, you might come into your prime. Is it only that, my dear, or is it Anafiel Delaunay's game you seek to play?"

  I should have known she would suspect it. Cècilie had

  been the one to train us, Alcuin and me, in the arts of love; she had also been one of the few who knew what Delaunay was about. For a brief moment, I considered confiding in her. I trusted her discretion. But it would worry her; and it could endanger her, too. And unlike Joscelin and my chevaliers, Cecilie was no warrior sworn to my protection, skilled in the arts of defense. It cast Delaunay's dilemma in a different light, and for the first time I sympathized with his desire to shield me in ignorance.

  "I'm sworn to Naamah, and not to House Courcel," I said lightly. "Unlike my lord Delaunay. But you may be sure, I've not forgotten what I learned in his service. I will keep my ears open and my wits about me. If I learn aught that Ysandre should know . . . " I shrugged. "So much the better. "

  Not entirely convinced, Cecilie leveled her gaze at me. "Be careful, Phèdre. "

  As an adept of Cereus House, she had cause to know. In the Thirteen Houses of the Court of Night-Blooming Flowers, Naamah's Service was an item of faith. As Naamah had lain down with strangers on blessed Elua's behalf, so did we; but we were mortal, and where power intersects with pleasure, there is danger. Adepts of the Night Court dabbled with great caution in politica
l intrigue. As a peer of the realm, I risked all the more. No one living had done it.

  Placing a candied rose petal on my tongue, I let it melt in a wash of sweetness. "I will," I promised. "What news have I missed?"

  "Ah, well!" Her eyes danced. "Despite the Cruarch's visit this summer, it grows obvious that the Queen is not with child. Now that winter stares us in the teeth, speculation mounts as to whether or not she will take a lover; and if so, whom. "

  "Does it indeed?" I murmured. "Do you think she will?" We were D'Angeline. Love as thou wilt. She would not have been the first, nor the last.

  "No," Cecilie said decisively, shaking her head before sipping her wine. "Ysandre was raised as a pawn on the playing field of marital alliance; she knows how to play the game and commit to none. Any mind, I hear she is committed to him. If House Courcel provides an heir, he or she will be half Picti. "

  It was true; I had reason to know it. Against all odds, the marriage of the Queen of Terre d'Ange and the Cruarch of Alba was a love match-and the Strait that divided them was nigh as deep as the one between Joscelin and me.

  "Still," Cecilie continued, "it is open season on the position of Queen's paramour, and contenders abound. "

  "If Ysandre is not troubled, I'll not trouble myself. " I took up the wine-jug and refilled our glasses. "What of the Skaldi? Have the borders been quiet?"

  "As the grave. " There was satisfaction in her tone. "Somerville was awarded a duchy, you know; sovereign in L'Agnace. No one disputes it. The Royal Army's been approved to stand down, now. Camaelines hold the border. "

  "D'Aiglemort's men?" I glanced up, surprised. Cecilie nodded.

  "The Unforgiven, they call themselves," she said softly. "They bear black shields. "

  We were both silent a moment, remembering. Only a few of the Allies of Camlach had survived the battle of Troyes-le-Mont, where the Skaldi warlord Waldemar Selig had united his people, leading an invasion against Terre d'Ange. He had had reason to believe he would prevail, encouraged in his endeavors by Melisande Shahrizai, who played a deep-laid game. I know, for she sold me into slavery among the Skaldi when I learned her plan. I do not think she meant me to survive. I did, though. In the deepest winter of Skaldia, I survived to become Selig's mistress, and I learned his plan, escaping in time to warn Ysandre. It was enough, by the nearest of margins. Ysandre sent me to Alba, and I brought the Cruarch's army to my country's aid. In the end, only Melisande escaped unscathed.

  I could have done none of it without Joscelin.

  The Allies of Camlach had been vassals of the traitorous Duc Isidore d'Aiglemort, Melisande's ally, whose fatal conspiracy had opened the door for the Skaldic invasion and

  nearly brought ruin on the nation. Isidore d'Aiglemort is dead now, and he died a hero at the end.

  I was there, watching from the parapet, when he led the charge against Waldemar Selig's army. It was the Allies of Camlach who had driven a wedge into the massed Skaldi, and d'Aiglemort himself who slew Selig. He didn't live to tell of it; not many men of Camlach had survived that charge. Those who had lived had vowed themselves to driving the invading Skaldi far beyond D'Angeline borders.

  The Unforgiven. It was a disturbing name.

  "Did you hear?" Cecilie changed the subject, poring over the tray of dainties. "Prince Benedicte has remarried. "

  "No!"

  "Oh, yes. " She looked amused. "Do you suppose the passions of the flesh wither with age, my dear?"

  "But he must be . . . "

  "Only sixty-aught," Cecilie said complacently. "And twelve years a widower. Ganelon was his elder, by a considerable amount. He took a Camaeline lass to wife, whose family was slain in the war. Tourande, Tourais, something like that. They're expecting a child, come spring. I didn't tell you?"

  "No," I said absently. "What does it betoken, for the throne?"

  "Naught that I know of. " She nibbled at a bit of marche-pain. "As Ganelon's brother, Benedicte is still formally next in line, but he has two daughters to succeed him, although I understand Thérèse is imprisoned for her part in Isabel L'Envers' death. "

  "And Barquiel L'Envers?"

  "The Duc L'Envers. " Cecilie set her piece of marchepain down unfinished. "If you're wary of anyone, be wary of him, Phèdre. Ysandre is thick with her uncle-and I do not say it is wrong, for blood calls to blood. But House L'Envers was ever ambitious, and he was your lord's enemy, you know. Ysandre may be Isabel's daughter, but she bears Rolande's blood. "

  I knew; I knew it well. The Duc Barquiel L'Envers was high atop the list of peers I mistrusted. As it happens, I also owed him my life.

  "Well," I said reflectively. "A proper hornet's nest, it seems. ”

  "When were politics aught else?" Cecilie gave me a long, evaluating glance. "If you're going to do this, we'll need to set you up properly, Phèdre no Delaunay de Montrève. In living memory, no peer of the realm has chosen to follow Naamah's service. You're going against fashion, my dear. "

  "I know," I said. "But Naamah's arts are older than Terre d'Ange itself, and her service is ancient among us. I was her Servant before I was a peer. There was honor in both, once, and neither precluded the other. I swore an oath, Cecilie. I made the dedication and released a dove in Naamah's name. Do you say I should gainsay it?"