Kushiel's Avatar

thoughtfully when he was done, reclining on a couch.
    “Bold deeds, Phèdre nó Delaunay, and worthy of honor. Why then do you ask to meet in secret, and not trumpet this victory to your Ambassador de Penfars, to Lord Mesilim-Amurri, the Akkadian consul? I am certain they would wish to arrange for a triumphal procession, if they knew.”
    “There is a complication, my lord Pharaoh,” I said.
    His heavy lids flickered. “Indeed? What is it?”
    I told him about Imriel.
    When I had finished, he laughed. “And what would you have me do about it? By all rights, I should send for de Penfars right now and remand the boy to his custody! It would win me favor with the D’Angeline Queen.”
    “It would,” I said, “until I told her about your alliance with Melisande Shahrizai.”
    “There is that.” Pharaoh rubbed his chin. “What do you propose?”
    “We will be gone in several days’ time, my lord. If, at that time, I sent various letters to you by messenger, you might see them enacted and dispersed. That, from the Lugal, regarding the survivors of the zenana ,” I nodded at the letter he held, and produced three more, “this, to be sent to Lord Amaury Trente in Tyre, and this, to be given to Ambassador de Penfars, who will send it by courier to Queen Ysandre. Both detail my suspicions, and give the reason for my actions, asserting that you had no knowledge of my presence and that I relied on your integrity as a ruler to see the missives delivered.”
    “Sent by messenger, eh?” He thought through the implications. “So it shall seem I’d no idea you were here until you were gone.”
    “Yes, my lord Pharaoh.” I sat straight under his considering gaze.
    “You could have done that,” he said.
    “I could, my lord. But I have an obligation to the women of the zenana . I was entrusted with seeing them restored to Menekhet, and securing your cooperation. I could not leave without doing it.”
    The fans moved in broad sweeps, stirring the sultry air. Ptolemy Dikaios rested his chin on his fist and stared at me. “You’re an odd woman, Phèdre nó Delaunay; beautiful, but odd. For whom is the third letter?”
    My mouth had gone dry. “Melisande Shahrizai de la Courcel.”
    He gave a short bark of laughter.
    “My lord,” I said. “This I do not ask, but leave to your discretion. Whether or not your communications with her have continued, I do not know, and do not inquire. If they have not...” I shrugged, placing the letters on the low table between us. “Consign it to the flames. If they have ... whatever else she may be, she is a mother, my lord Pharaoh, sore grieved for the loss of her son. She has the right to know he lives.”
    Pharaoh picked up the letters and studied them, bejeweled rings glinting on every finger of his hands. “Very beautiful, and very odd. You take a risk in coming to me alone, my lady.”
    “Yes.” I nodded. “However, my lord, if I have not returned by sundown, my companions will claim asylum of Ambassador de Penfars.”
    His eyes gleamed with amusement. “Embassies are vulnerable.”
    “So are thrones,” I said. “I daresay Lord Raife would think to beseech the aid of General Hermodorus if the embassy was threatened, not to mention that of the Akkadian consul. In fact, if I do not return by sundown-”
    “Let me guess.” Pharaoh tapped two fingers on the thick parchment envelopes. “There are letters already awaiting delivery.”
    I nodded. “As it happens, my lord, there are.”
    He laughed and tossed the letters on the table. “Ah, Lady Phèdre! You entertain me; you entertain me greatly. So be it. I give you two days. On the third, I will announce the receipt of great news, and your Menekhetan refugees will be received with much fanfare. Your letters shall be sent accordingly to the Ambassador and to Tyre, and I shall tender my profoundest apologies for my ignorance of your duplicity. I sincerely hope, my lady, that by that time, you are well on your way upriver.”
    “We will be.” I knelt and made a heartfelt obeisance. “Thank you, my lord Pharaoh.”
    Ptolemy Dikaios waved a jeweled hand. “Go, and be gone.”

Sixty-Five
    OVER THE next two days our arrangements were made, with Nesmut’s aid and Kaneka’s supervision. We would travel by felucca, the swift, shallow sailing-boats, up the river as far as Majibara, the great caravanserai that marked the end of Menekhet and the border of Jebe-Barkal itself. There our company-seven, all told-would