Kushiel's Chosen

a-sail... we were off, darting across the sunlit bay toward the narrow passage, and the charming village of Dobrek falling away behind us.
    It was a different thing, this journey, from my first sojourn as Kazan Atrabiades' hostage. I had expected similar treatment, reckoning to stake out a place on deck and keep myself out of the way, but he accorded me instead the small cabin within the forecastle for my quarters. There he left me well enough alone, and I reckoned his anger at D'Angelines in general and the Lady of Marsilikos in particular had spilled over onto me. I understood much more of the Illyrian tongue by this time and Kazan's men did small kindnesses for me when his eye was not on them, but there was grim purposefulness to this journey, as opposed to the light-hearted, victorious spirit of the former.
    For three days, we wended south down the Illyrian coast and the weather held fair. The long, shining summer was giving way at last to fall, but the seasons change late there and the days remained warm. I judged the time of year by the length of days, and wondered where Ysandre was now, making her progressus. Not far, I thought; she would likely have set forth by sail to Ditus, at the tip of Caerdicca Unitas, and would travel by land up the western coast before crossing inland to La Serenissima, seeing how the northern city-States held against the Skaldic border. Quintilius Rousse would have ample time to intervene. If he were canny-and I knew him for no fool-he would send word to Ysandre. With the D'Angeline fleet prepared to move by sea against La Serenissima, surely the city-states of Caerdicca Unitas would mobilize on land. Ysandre would arrive in La Serenissima with an army of allies at her back.
    Percy de Somerville was the only danger. I'd not been able to think of a way to warn the Lord Admiral against him. Still, Rousse was unlikely to recruit the Royal Commander in this venture. No, I thought, he will send word to de Somerville, but only to alert him. Else, it would leave Terre d'Ange undefended, with the fleet away. Well and so, Percy de Somerville is no fool either. He will bow with the winds, and look to save his own hide. And if Ghislain is with him... Ghislain's troops and estates lie in Azzalle, he has Alba to contend with, and dares not risk the wrath of Drustan mab Necthana. And Barquiel L'Envers rules yet as regent in Ysandre's name, and commands forces of his own.
    It would fall out well enough, I thought, and we had surprise on our side yet, for all that I'd lost weeks as Kazan's hostage. I would be safely returned to give word of de Somerville's treachery ere he could act on it; the web of those loyal to Ysandre would hold long enough for that.
    So did I muse, and pass the time aboard the ship, while sun-gilded isles slid past us along the coastline. Glaukos called me aside one day, pointing to the distant east, where a causeway from the mainland rolled out to meet a mighty walled city on the sea.
    "Epidauro," he murmured, as if fearful Kazan would hear. I saw many bright-sailed ships gathered in the harbor there, tiny flecks of color against the granite walls. We had given the city a wide berth. Even so, men muttered and made signs against evil, while Kazan stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched with anger.
    It was on the following day that we turned west and into the open sea.
    A steady breeze blew at our backs, and the ships leapt forward like winged creatures, plunging buoyantly over the deep-blue waves. Seldom were the decks level for long, and I gave thanks to Blessed Elua that I had a strong stomach for sailing. Joscelin would have been green-faced and wretched; it is the only time I was glad he was not with me, though the thought of him made me smile. It was a little frightening, but mostly exhilarating. Even Kazan's mood lightened somewhat, although he would not look at me.
    Two days we took making the crossing, and at dawn on the third, he turned back to the grim business at hand, issuing curt orders which were passed by flag-signals from ship to ship. Arms were brought forth from the hold, wrapped in oilcloth against the dampness; swords were honed and bowstrings waxed and plucked, bucklers hefted to test their balance on the swaying decks, javelins sighted down their lengths, ropes snapped on grappling hooks to measure their strength.
    By noon we saw the island, a grey hummock rising out of the sea, a patch of green scrub showing faintly where the harbor lay, and the