Kushiel's Chosen

led them ever onward, onward.
    I daresay I laughed when I heard these tales; the commonfolk do not tell them where we made camp for the night, the Bursar bartering with shrewd farmers for use of their fields and streams while four hundred weary and saddle-sore D'Angeline soldiers waited impatiently for orders to dismount, cursing the packhorses milling about and fouling their lead-lines. And yet there is a truth to it, after all.
    It took us a week's time to reach Milazza, and our supplies from Pavento held out long enough. Amaury Trente misliked our bypassing cities along the route, forsaking the possibility of raising a Caerdicci army; that much was clear. He had great hopes of Milazza, which lies closest to the inland D'Angeline border of all the great city-states.
    Ysandre remained adamant.
    "No," she said succinctly. "Whatever else I do, I will not bring a foreign army onto D'Angeline soil, Amaury."
    He disheveled his hair, frustrated. By midday tomorrow, we would reach Milazza, and he had counted on convincing the Queen ere now. "Majesty, with a thousand additional men, you can march safely into Eisande-and the Duke of Milazza can spare them, easily. In Blessed Elua's name, will you not hear reason?"
    "Reason this, my lord Trente," Ysandre said in an implacable voice. "Percy de Somerville cannot hope to sway the whole of the Royal Army and the people of Terre d'Ange against me unless he makes them believe me a traitor. A Caerdicci army would give him that proof."
    "He doesn't even know you're alive!" Amaury shouted, clutching his hair.
    "But he will," Ysandre said softly. "He will hear the reports and he will know, though he may deny it and name me an imposter. Shall I be so naive, to assume de Somerville has not planned for the contingency of failure?"
    Amaury Trente sighed and dropped his hand to rest on the map spread on the camp-table beside the central fire where Ysandre held her war council. "All right," he said. "All right. Then let us at least make haste to Liguria, and travel by ship to Marsilikos, where we will find safe harbor and allies aplenty."
    "My lord Trente." Ti-Philippe cleared his throat apologetically at his glare. "Forgive me, but I have been a sailor all my life, and I tell you this; it is perilous late in the season to make that crossing. You will be hard-pressed to find sufficient ships willing to make the journey."
    I shuddered inwardly at the thought of yet another dangerous sea voyage, and held my tongue. Amaury pounded his fist, making the map jump.
    "Is there no other way?" he demanded. "Surely, there must be some means of crossing onto D'Angeline soil that is both feasible and acceptable, Ysandre!"
    The Queen's face was set and stubborn in the firelight, and I knew that she would hear no arguments that did not involve riding straight for the City of Elua to set matters aright. Edging around her advisors, I gazed at the map beneath Amaury's clenched fist.
    Remember what others have named you...
    "My lady," I said. "There is a way, if you will hear it."
    Ysandre gave me a sharp look and inclined her head. "I am listening, Phèdre."
    "If we travel north from Milazza and cross the border here, in the foothills," I said, tracing a path with one finger, "we enter Camlach, under the warding of the Unforgiven. See, here lies the garrison of Southfort."
    "Camlach!" Amaury Trente said in disgust. "The Black Shields have betrayed the Queen once already, Comtesse. What makes you think they will be less swift than de Somerville's forces to do it again?"
    "I will stand surety for it with my life, my lord," I said steadily. "Whatever politics de Somerville has played with them, the Unforgiven have sworn an oath unto the death to redeem the sin of that betrayal. And because they have sworn to the way of expiation ..." I cleared my throat, "... they have sworn to obey my lord Kushiel and his chosen."
    Beside me, Joscelin stirred, remembering. Ysandre looked hard at me.
    "You would offer your sovereign Queen and rightful ruler of Terre d'Ange the protection of soldiers sworn to obey an anguissette?" she inquired dryly. I felt color rise to my cheeks.
    "My lady-" I began in a faint voice.
    "Well and good." Ysandre cut me off, gazing into the distance, and I understood then that she had not spoken in mockery of me-and I saw, too, that 'twas no mere stubbornness that held her to this course. It is said, at times, the Scions of Elua could hear his call; I do believe Ysandre heard it then, calling her