Kushiel's Avatar

the last expedition, and fled before the slaughter. And I have gotten Sinaddan to agree to send an armed escort with you as far as the Drujani border, which,” he added, “I will accompany. From thence, you are on your own, provided-” He held up a cautionary finger. “Provided Joscelin Verreuil goes with you. Understand me, Phèdre. If the Cassiline does not agree to it, I will not let you go.”
    I nodded. “I understand, my lord. I am grateful that you are willing to take such a risk.”
    Amaury Trente looked sourly at me. “Make no mistake, I’m not happy about it.”
    Thus, Lord Amaury.
    It left only Joscelin, who had not spoken to me for two days, not since he had divined the nature of my plan. What he did in that time, I cannot say, save that he spent a good deal of it walking the city of Nineveh. No one bothered him. Small surprise, with his grim expression and the sword strapped across his back, the daggers riding low at his hips. I waited until he came to me. There was a time he might not have done so. Ten years ago, in La Serenissima, he had walked out on me, and I’d not been sure he would return.
    This time, I was.
    I heard the shrieks in the women’s quarter of our inn, and knew. No more, and no less. When he made up his mind, proprieties would not deter him. I looked at Renée, gazing wide-eyed at the door. “It is Joscelin,” I said. “My dear, you don’t want to be here for this.”
    She didn’t argue, donning her veil hastily and slipping out the door past him even as he entered, oblivious to her fleeting presence.
    “Phèdre,” he said, a world of agony in the word; a single word, my name. It is an ill-luck name, I have always said so. “Do you know what you are asking?”
    “Yes,” I said steadily. “I am asking you to take me to Daršanga and sell me into the seraglio of the Mahrkagir of Drujan.”
    He turned away, hands clenched into fists; I heard the leather straps of his vambraces creak in protest. “A man who breeds death as another breeds life.”
    “Yes.” My voice betrayed me by trembling. “Elua! Do you think I’m not terrified?”
    “Then why ?” Joscelin turned around, blue eyes blazing, innocent as a summer sky, filled with all the love and outrage in his being. “Blessed Elua, Phèdre, why ? Do you care so little for me? Does Melisande’s son mean so much to you? Is the desire that pricks you so unbearable? Why ?”
    “No,” I answered, shaking. “No.” I gazed at him, though it hurt to look at him. “Do you remember, on the ship, what we spoke of? Joscelin, it is Elua himself who asks it of me. I swear to you, I would not ask this for anything less.”
    With a low sound, like an animal brought to bay, he dropped to his knees, hiding his face in his hands. “It is too hard,” he said, his voice muffled.
    “I know,” I said softly, crossing the room and laying my hands on his head. “Believe me, my love, I know.”
    Joscelin’s arms rose unbidden, holding me hard about the waist. “To damnation and beyond,” he whispered, hot against my belly. “I have sworn it.” The sound that caught in his throat might have been a laugh, or not. “As if I’d had the slightest idea what that meant.”
    “‘ Joscelin ,” I breathed. “It is taking my last ounce of courage just to contemplate this. Tell me now whether you will aid me or no.”
    On his knees, he looked up at me, blue eyes framed with tear-spiked lashes, an eerie echo of the face in my dream, though no shadow fell across it but my own. “I would sooner serve you my heart on a platter, love, but it is not what you ask. So be it. I will sell you to this man who calls himself the Conqueror of Death, and Elua help him afterward.”
    I could ask no more.

Forty
    THERE WERE a good many tearful farewells before we departed for Drujan.
    No one was happy with it, and I could not blame them, for once the moment had passed, I myself was riddled with doubt. I questioned my judgement some dozen times a day, seeking to rekindle that ineffable certainty that had assured me this was Elua’s plan, the golden presence that had filled me and made me so cursed sure .
    It never happened.
    Baron Victor de Chalais would lead the delegates home, crossing the Great Rivers before the spring floods began. He was a good man and steady, and I was glad of it. Lord Amaury Trente, Nicolas Vigny and two others would remain, accompanying us to the border of Drujan with Prince Sinaddan’s escort. There they would stay,