Kushiel's Chosen

sworn it."
    Kazan made him a sweeping bow, still grinning. "Oh mighty Doge, I am grateful, I! My poor mother, she gives you thanks for your mercy, yes, to see her son come home alive."
    "Do not strain the limits of that mercy, pirate," Cesare Stregazza said, eyeing him sardonically. "It erases only the past, and not the future."
    "Of course, mighty Doge." Kazan's high spirits knew no bounds, standing free and pardoned in the Temple of Asherat where he'd been given the opportunity to shed Serenissiman blood. "But who knows what the future will bring, eh?"
    With Joscelin's aid, I got him out of there before the Doge changed his mind, and made him an introduction to Ysandre de la Courcel, who blinked in startlement at his fearsome appearance. "We are grateful for your aid, Lord Atrabiades," she said formally. "I see by it that Phèdre nó Delaunay has a great deal more to tell me of her adventures."
    "It is a long story, yes," Kazan said with considerable understatement. "Majesty, to your ears alone in this place, I tell you that I have acted, I, with the blessing of the Zim Sokali, the Ban of Illyria. You will remember this, I hope, that my poor vassal nation offered aid to powerful Terre d'Ange in its hour of need, eh?"
    "Yes." My Queen looked steadily at him, seeing past his fierce, mustached visage, his topknot and his dangling pirate's eardrops. It was the same clarity of regard that had seen past Drustan mab Necthana's blue-whorled tattoos and clubfoot to envision a King worthy of sharing her throne one day-and worthy of loving. Bearing the weight of a close kin's betrayal, a near-assassination and a realm threatened by siege, Ysandre de la Courcel stood unfaltering and inclined her head to him with dignity and gratitude. "I will remember it, Kazan Atrabiades."
    There was a reason, after all, I had risked my life for hers.
    Kazan made her a bow before departing, deep and sincere.
    The Illyrians withdrew through the tunnels, quick and efficient, two of them carrying Volos between them. The chirurgeon had assured me that he would live, although the gash looked dreadful and he became nauseated when moved. I did not envy them that trip, though I was glad that they would ensure the Yeshuites had well and truly left, and that they would free the poor eunuch Cervianus. I made Kazan promise he would be freed unharmed, since he could do us no damage now.
    We said our farewells then and there; I would seek him out at the Illyrian Ambassador's residence if I could, but I feared we would be departing La Serenissima in swiftness, and my duties to Ysandre would keep me well occupied until then. It had all changed so quickly, now that I was back among D'Angelines, despite our politically precarious position.
    'Tis a hard thing, to sever ties forged in powerful circumstance. I thanked each of the men in turn-romantic Epafras, sea-loving Oltukh, the ever-quarreling Stajeo and Tormos, Ushak with his jug-ears and poor Volos, who mustered a sickly grin-and gave them all the kiss of parting.
    And then Kazan looked wryly at me, running a lock of my hair between his fingers. "Stars caught in the night sky, eh, isn't that what that smooth-tongued son of Minos said? It has been a journey, since I plucked you from the waters, Phèdre nó Delaunay. I will not forget you soon, you."
    "Nor I you, my lord Atrabiades," I said softly. "Not soon, nor ever."
    "So it ends." He dropped his hand and glanced toward the tunnel. "Best I go. If I do not see you again, may your gods keep you safe. They and that tall D'Angeline, eh?" He flashed his irrepressible grin. "Now that I have seen him use his sword, yes, I think maybe it is not impossible!" At that I laughed, and Kazan bent his head to kiss me farewell. Straightening, he took his leave, disappearing into the tunnel without looking back. For a moment, I heard Illyrian voices echoing in the dark passageway, and then they moved onward, fading.
    I turned back to the Temple and my own people.
    Marco and Marie-Celeste Stregazza had been escorted out by members of the Dogal Guard whose loyalty had never faltered, under the watchful eye of Lorenzo Pescaro, who bore them no love. They were to be confined in their quarters until such time as the Judiciary Tribunal could meet.
    As for the Priestess of the Crown and her two allies among the Elect-Asherat's servants would take care of their own, meting out their own justice. I glanced at her towering effigy and shuddered. I did not think Asherat-of-the-Sea