Kushiel's Dart

and his great heart. And Alcuin ... I knew him from a boy, you know. He was a rare jewel."
    "Thank you, my lord." I wrung his hands in gratitude, tears stinging my eyes. "Delaunay always counted you one of the best among men."
    "I thought he was a fool sometimes," Caspar said gruffly, "honoring an oath sworn to a dead man. It demanded a great deal, that honor of his."
    "Yes." I thought of the bitter words I'd spoken to Ysandre de la Courcel, at our first audience. "But," I said, "I loved him for it, too."
    "We all did," Thelesis said, and smiled. "At least those who did not hate him, for he drew strong emotions, Delaunay did. Phedre, his house and his things were seized by the court. Have you nothing to call your own?"
    I shook my head, fingering Melisande's diamond. "Only this," I said wryly, "which surely I earned. It seems I will wear it until the day I may throw it back at her who gave it me. But I lost little to the courts. Nearly all that I had went to Master Robert Tielhard, to contract for the finishing of my marque." I looked over my shoulder, and shrugged. "That loss, I lay at the doorstep of Melisande Shahrizai and Isidore d'Aiglemort."
    "I swear," Caspar Trevalion said solemnly, giving my hands another squeeze, "on the memory of Anafiel Delaunay, while I live, you will never lack for aught, Phedre. And when this matter is done, I will see your name cleared." He glanced at Joscelin. "Both of yours."
    "Thank you." I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, which had grown seamed with age since I had known him. Joscelin, silent and introspective, nodded his gratitude.
    "It seems to me," Hyacinthe remarked, "that we might claim a considerable reward from the Queen for this service, yes?" He looked at our startled faces and grinned. "If you are to travel among Tsingani, you must begin thinking like one."
    I could see the distaste on Joscelin's face. "Better than thinking as one of the White Brethren," I said to him in Skaldic. His blue eyes widened for an instant, shocked to hear words in our slave-tongue, then he smiled reluctantly.
    "Will you teach me to speak Cruithne as you did Skaldic?" he inquired lightly.
    "I don't know," I said. "Do I have to have you chained in a kennel to make a willing pupil of you?"
    "No," he said wryly, and ran his hands absently over his hair, which fell wheat-gold and loose over his shoulders, unbound from its Cassiline club. "I think I have learned the merits-and the dangers-of paying heed to your words, Phedre no Delaunay. Your lord would be proud of you."
    "Mayhap." I met his eyes. "Thank you," I said softly.
    We had not spoken of the choice he had made. Joscelin looked away, picking with his thumbnail at a flaw in the carven arm of his chair. "Well," he murmured. "I could not leave you to suffer the guardianship of some dried-up old stick of a Cassiline." He looked at Hyacinthe and smiled. "And the Brothers would despair of you, Tsingano. I may at least hope to survive our companionship without being driven mad."
    "I hope so." Hyacinthe flashed his imperturbable grin. "You've come a long way since Phedre had to rescue you from the degradations of Eglantine tumblers, Cassiline. I hope we face nothing worse together."
    "Elua grant that it's so." Joscelin stood, bowing, catching himself out with crossed arms. He shook his head. "Forgive me. It's late, and I've need of sleep."
    We bid him good night, and watched him go.
    "You know," Thelesis said in her soft, compelling voice, "I had a great-uncle who was a Cassiline. There is a name for what he did today." She looked at me with those darkly luminous eyes in her wasted face. "They call it Cassiel's Choice."
    I did not need her to explain. I understood.
    The days that followed passed in relative isolation, as our forces dispersed to the four corners of the realm. At my request, Ysandre had several volumes sent from the Royal Library, texts on Alba and books in Cruithne, and treatises on the Master of the Straits. I wished I had Delaunay's library at hand. I remembered how Alcuin was studying the history of the Master of the Straits, and wished he were there. I wished, too, that I had been present at that fateful audience, when Ganelon de la Courcel had received the old Cruarch. But no, Alcuin had gone with Delaunay, and I had been glad of it, going instead to Valerian House to dote over flagellaries and pleasure-chambers.
    Such things seemed as child's play to me now. I knew firsthand the ravages that could be perpetuated against the