Kushiel's Chosen

dealt mercifully with those who betrayed her.
    But Melisande Shahrizai was under her protection. A bitter irony, that.
    In one quarter of the Temple, Ysandre de la Courcel held an impromptu war council with her Commander of the Guard and the rest of her retinue. Joscelin was there, although Ti-Philippe was nowhere to be seen; I learned later that he had slipped back to the nameless isle to confirm that the Yeshuites had gotten safely away.
    The plan under discussion was the taking of the Little Court and our swift return to Terre d'Ange, for that, I learned was Ysandre's intention: to send her own Royal Couriers hard on the heels of Melisande's emissaries, to secure the Little Court and custody of Benedicte and Melisande's infant son, and thence to proceed in all haste to Terre d'Ange and the City of Elua, lending proof to her couriers' proclamation that she yet lived and dealing with Percy de Somerville's insurrection.
    Word had returned, by now, that Melisande's couriers had gotten away clean. With relays already in place, they might gain as much as a day's lead on pursuers.
    "It won't be easy if de Somerville's encamped the Royal Army within the walls of the City." Lord Trente's expression was grim. "He only needs a few hours to take it by treachery. And once it's done, his men might stand by him even with your return, your majesty, if it's a choice between that or hanging."
    "And if we offer clemency to all who were duped?" Ysandre inquired thoughtfully.
    Lord Trente shrugged. "Mayhap. De Somerville will claim 'tis a trick. And without an army at hand, we'll be hard-pressed to get close enough to give the lie to it. They'll be wary; they'll have Barquiel L'Envers' blood on their hands."
    I cleared my throat. "My lady ... it may prove otherwise. Elua grant it arrived, I sent a message to your uncle the Duc, bidding him hold the City against all claimants, including Percy de Somerville. If he will heed the password of House L'Envers, he may do it."
    Ysandre stared at me. "You did what?"
    I repeated my words, adding, "It would have been delivered first to the Lady of Marsilikos, by way of a courier-ship from the Archon of Phaistos, my lady."
    "Phaistos," Ysandre said blankly. "Phaistos is a city, is it not, on the isle of Kriti?"
    "Yes, my lady." I felt a fool, though there was no reason for it. "Do you think he will honor the L'Envers' password?"
    Ysandre's lips moved soundlessly. "The password," she said at last. "Where did you-no, never mind. Yes. He might. He should. It will make him harder to kill, at any rate." She stood a,little straighter, as if the burden on her shoulders had lessened. "Amaury, how many men will it require to secure the Little Court?"
    "A hundred more than we have here," Lord Trente replied promptly.
    "Good. We shall ask the Doge. And then," the Queen said, "we shall proceed."
    With the situation under control, Cesare Stregazza willingly lent the aid of several squadrons of the Dogal Guard, and it was with these that Ysandre's forces swept the Little Court, securing it from bottom to top. I was there, along with Ysandre's ladies-in-waiting and other noncombatants, because in the end, there was no place in La Serenissima anyone reckoned safer. And we had Joscelin to ward us.
    It was a small garrison that held the palace; many had accompanied their lord and lady to the ceremony of investiture, and were already under guard. Although I saw none of it, some of Benedicte's D'Angelines fought and were slain. It was a clean death, I suppose, which is why they chose it. Others surrendered, placing themselves at Ysandre's mercy rather than submit to the Doge's. These were held in secure quarters in the Little Court, which included a dungeon cell outfitted as a luxurious pleasure-chamber with tapestried walls, plush pillows strewn on thick rugs and a well-stocked flagellary.
    I went to see it; I had to, although I could not say why. Joscelin went with me and looked at me without speaking as I stood in the hallway and shivered, watching as a half a dozen guardsmen were herded inside.
    "This was meant for me," I said eventually.
    "Melisande." He said it quietly; I nodded. "But she sent you to La Dolorosa instead."
    "Yes." I gazed at the torchlight gleaming on rich fabrics; soft, pleasurable textures. "In order that this would seem paradise by comparison. And it would have." I touched my bare throat where her diamond had once hung and shivered again. "I'd made up my mind to take her offer, Joscelin. The