Kushiel's Chosen

summoned my resolve and held his fierce gaze unblinking. "Time passes, my lord Admiral, and I am no child to be ordered. Her majesty has agreed to my plan. Let it stand."
    "Bah!" It was Rousse who looked away first, beseeching Joscelin and my chevaliers for assistance. "Will none of you talk sense to the girl?" he demanded. In truth, I was not sure. But all of them, even little Ti-Philippe, shook their heads, one by one. At last, Quintilius Rousse heaved another sigh, more massive than the last. "So be it," he said heavily. "But if you've need of aid, Phèdre nó Delaunay, know this. Do you but send word to the Lady of Marsilikos or myself, I will come. I will come with ships, and I will come in force. I have seen the Face of the Waters, and I do not fear anything at sea born of mortal flesh. Do you understand?"
    "Yes, my lord," I murmured, flinching away from the ferocity of his stare. "I understand." It brought somewhat else to mind, and I bit my lip. "My lord... my lord Admiral. Do you have any word of the Master of the Straits?"
    Joscelin stirred, alert at that. He knew what I meant: Hyacinthe.
    "Nay," Rousse said softly, his expression turning compassionate. "Tamed they are, child, and all manner of craft cross at will. But I swear to you, every three-month, storm or calm, I have sent a ship to dare the Three Sisters. None has drawn within a league; the seas themselves rise against us. I am sorry," he added with unwonted gentleness. "I liked that Tsingano lad, I did. But whatever fate he's bought himself, the Master of the Straits holds him to it."
    I nodded. "Thank you."
    It was meant to be my fate, Hyacinthe's. The Master of the Straits had posed us a riddle. I had guessed the riddle first, and I had guessed it right. He drew his power from the Lost Book of Raziel. But Hyacinthe had challenged my answer. He had used the dromonde, the Tsingani gift of sight, and seen further into the past, answering the riddle to its fullest and naming the terms of Rahab's curse. His was the answer the Master of the Straits had accepted. If not for that, it would have been me, chained for eternity to that lonely isle. It should have been me.
    "I will keep trying," Quintilius Rousse said roughly, and reaching across the table, took my face in both massive hands, planting a kiss on my brow. "Elua keep you, Phèdre nó Delaunay, and heed my promise, if you'll not heed my advice. We went to the ends of the earth together, you and I."
    "Yes, my lord," I whispered, grasping his hands and kissing them. Alone among all the others, all I suspected, I trusted Quintilius Rousse. 'Twas true, we had gone to the ends of the earth together, he and I; gone and returned.
    Roxanne de Mereliot shook her head fretfully. "I was hoping you would see reason, Phèdre. But you will do what you will, I suppose. I will pray to Eisheth for your safe return," she said, and added her voice to Rousse's. "And if you've need of aid, send word, and I will send it."
    "I will," I promised.

THIRTY
    1 he next day, we said our farewells to the Lady of Marsilikos, and made our way to the quai to board the Darielle. She was a three-masted galley, one of the newest and finest merchanters D'Angeline traders had afloat, and not even my chevaliers had a word to say against her.
    The last thing we did, before boarding, was conclude the sale of our mounts and packhorses to one of the many horse traders who provide for and profit from travellers in Marsilikos. We had not arranged for their portage, and I was minded to start anew in La Serenissima, unencumbered upon my arrival. Still, it was a frightening thing, to commit ourselves to the bowels of the ship, knowing we would arrive without home or transport. I prayed that my factor's arrangements held good, and the sale of the shipment of lead would go through without difficulty.
    Quintilius Rousse had accompanied us to the quai, and whatever it was he said to the captain, hauling him aside and muttering ungently in his ear, I daresay it went a long way toward explaining the careful, courteous treatment I received throughout our journey.
    When he had done with the Captain, he turned to me, and his blue eyes were canny in that unhandsome face. "Phèdre nó Delaunay," he mused. "Off to chase a will-o'-the-wisp. Well, you have my pledge, and I have your promise. Now hear me, for I've one last piece of advice for you to heed." He laid his calloused hands on my shoulders and gripped them hard, staring down at my upturned face.