Kushiel's Chosen

wool, product of the last shearing of the season, with an entire wagon for my goods, which included the volumes and scrolls of Yeshuite research I had accumulated within a year.
    It was a goodly amount, for the followers of Yeshua were a prolific folk. Their history is ancient, reaching back long before the time when Yeshua ben Yosef, the true-gotten son of the One God, hung upon a Tiberian cross, his blood mingling with the tears of the Magdelene to beget blessed Elua. I had not yet discovered in their writings a clue to unravel the geis that bound Hyacinthe, but I was yet hopeful.
    Also in our train was a wagon for our gear, tents and foodstuffs, and pack-mules for my retainers' possessions. There was even a pair of saddle-horses we led unridden, fresh mounts for Remy and Ti-Philippe, who dashed back and forth between our slow party and the City.
    "You'll need a carriage," Fortun said pragmatically as we drew near to the City. "It won't do for the Comtesse de Montrève to ride astride, my lady. But I reckon it can wait until we've sold the wool."
    "It will have to." I had supposed, before Ysandre's Chancellor of the Exchequer had informed me that I was the inheritor of Delaunay's estate and never-claimed title, that all D'Angeline nobles had coin in abundance; in truth, it was not so. I drew a modest income from my holdings at Montrève, and I had funds from the recompense of Delaunay's City house. It had been seized upon his death, when I was judged in absentia to be his murderer. Now, my name was clear, thanks to Ysandre's intervention. In the City of Elua, it is known that I loved my lord Delaunay well and had no part in his death; as he named me his heir, so did I inherit. Still, I had no wish to dwell in the place where he died.
    So, his estate of Montrève I inherited, and I accepted recompense for the sale of his home in the City; but the proceeds from the former went toward the payment and equipage of my retainers, and the latter toward the purchase of a home for us. Of the small amount that remained, I confess, a great deal went into my library.
    Those purchases, I did not regret. All knowledge is worth having, Delaunay used to say; and I had every intention of putting what I garnered to good use. But it left me with little in the way of capital.
    I had a diamond, once, that would have financed the beginnings of a salon any courtesan might envy. Thinking on it, I touched my bare throat where it used to hang. I would rather have starved than profit from that gem.
    As we rode nigh to the southern gate, Fortun raised the banner of Montrève; green, a crescent moon in argent upper right, and sable crag lower left. The City Guard hoisted their spears in answer, a shout sounding from the white walls-Ti-Philippe, dicing with the Guard, had been awaiting our arrival. I heard a ragged chant arise, all too familiar: the marching-song of Phèdre's Boys, born out of our desperate quest to Alba.
    Glancing at Joscelin, I saw his shoulders set with resignation.
    So we entered the City.
    In some parts, it was small, and in others, vaster and more lovely than I remembered, gracious and proud. Ti-Philippe scrambled down to meet us, and led us inward, along the winding course of the river toward the Palace. In the street, citizens paused and watched curiously, marking our passage. I could hear the rumors begin to spread. To the east, the hill of Mont Nuit sloped upward. The Night Court was there, with its Thirteen Houses, where I had received my earliest training; in Cereus House, First among the Thirteen. At its foot lay Night's Doorstep, my refuge, where Hyacinthe had established himself as the Prince of Travellers.
    That was the past. The future lay before us. In sight of the Palace, at the juncture of a narrow street, Remy met us. After a hurried conference, Ti-Philippe took stewardship of the wool-wagons, leading them to the worsters' district.
    "My lady." Remy grinned, and swept me a bow from the saddle, rising to point down the street. "Your quarters await you!"
    If anyone might question the wisdom of allowing my wild sailor-lads to seek out lodgings for us, their fears would be mislaid; they were jealous of my honor, Phèdre's Boys, and no one was allowed to mock it save they themselves. Hidden away in the shadow of the Palace, it was a charming house. It had a tiny courtyard near overgrown with shade vines, a stable and a deceptively generous layout, being narrow, but deep. There was ample room for our party.
    "I