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Kushiel's Avatar

Kushiel's Avatar

Titel: Kushiel's Avatar Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Jacqueline Carey
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reserved for our pleasure, even ensuring that there would be no fuss about men and women dining in common. The festivities went long into the night, and I daresay I filled Amaury Trente’s ear with more advice than he needed.
    At the end of the evening, I bid farewell to Imriel, who would bunk with Lord Amaury’s men. “Be well,” I whispered, holding him close. “Be safe. Remember what I taught you.”
    “I will.” His voice was muffled, lost in my hair; his arms wound hard about my neck. He let me go, sniffling and blinking at Joscelin, one hand on the prized Akkadian dagger that was thrust through his belt. “Will you teach me to use this, when you come back?”
    “I swear it, my prince.” There was a strained tone to Joscelin’s voice as he bowed, the movement a halting approximation of his old Cassiline grace. He closed his eyes as Imriel hugged him, and I thought I saw tears spiking his lashes. “Ward yourself well until I do.”
    And then it was ended, and we went to our quarters, which seemed strangely empty without Imriel’s presence. There was no need for either of us to keep watch, no need for Joscelin to post himself before the door. It is odd, the things to which one can become accustomed.
    “Funny,” Joscelin said, unbuckling his vambraces. His left forearm had lost the calluses of a lifetime, and the leather straps had chafed it raw. “I never expected to like him.”
    “Melisande’s son,” I murmured.
    “Yes.” He prodded the oozing patches of flesh and winced. “Melisande’s son. Do you want to see them off in the morning?”
    “Yes,” I said. “I’d like that.”
    And we would have done, had we not slept overlate. Small wonder, I thought, waking to see the first low rays of the sun penetrating our window. It had been-how long?-weeks, at least, since both of us had slept through a night undisturbed. I roused Joscelin, who came awake with customary quickness. Hastily donning our attire, cloaked against the dawn chill, we hurried to the harbor in time to see the anchor drawn, hear the oarsmen chant as the galley turned round in the still waters of the harbor, making ready to hoist sail.
    They were there, standing on deck, Lord Amaury’s curling auburn hair unmistakably lit by the slanting early sun. He raised one hand in salute, and we waved from the quai. Imriel was a shrouded figure, huddled in a hooded Akkadian cloak and giving no indication of having seen us. Someone-Vigny, I thought-kept a watchful eye upon him.
    “Well,” said Joscelin. “That’s that.”
    “Did you-?”
    “What?”
    “Nothing.” I shrugged. “One of the men hauling anchor ... I thought, mayhap, I saw marks on his face. Like scratches. Healed scratches.”
    Joscelin stared after the receding galley. “Phèdre ... if you did ... Lord Amaury knows, yes? You told him about the letters to the Ephesians, about the instructions you gave the others. And he’s prepared to make it known to the ship’s captain, what repercussions may await if Imriel doesn’t make it safe to port in Marsilikos.”
    “Yes,” I said. “Amaury knows.”
    “Then let it be,” he said firmly, tugging my arm. “You’re chasing phantoms, now. Valère tried twice; she won’t try a third time, and even if she did, there’s naught we can do about it. ’Tis Amaury’s job, and one to which the Queen appointed him. Let him do it.”
    Glancing over my shoulder, I went with him. Like as not he was right; even I thought I was imagining things. We returned to the inn and packed our things-vastly reduced from that with which we’d left Nineveh, the bulk of it going westward with Lord Amaury-and went to break our fast and meet with Kaneka and the others.
    It was a smallish ship bound for Iskandría; a Menekhetan trader, for which I was glad. It would go unladen, for the Lugal had paid the entire passage, and there were but twelve of us, Jebean, Menekhetan and D’Angeline, with the run of the vessel. When the sun stood high overhead, they cast anchor and in short order we were away, sails hoisting to catch the wind. I stood on deck and watched the gulf of sparkling water widen between us and the coastline of Khebbel-im-Akkad, feeling a giddy lightness as it did.
    So, I thought, it is ended. We leave Drujan behind us.
    And I prayed the distance would make a difference.
    It was a pleasure, after Khebbel-im-Akkad, to go unveiled, to feel the salt spray upon my face. After the zenana , I retained a fondness for open spaces, and

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