Kushiel's Dart

while de Morhban's men idled and a rider headed south. The adult Tsingani were scared, but bore it well; the children, our best disguise, carried the act for us. One of the little girls found a nest of baby rabbits, which kept them all occupied.
    And in short order, Quincel de Morhban appeared, with a second squadron of his House Guard. Forty armed men, now; if ever we'd had a chance of fighting clear, it was gone now.
    I kept my head low, watching him through my lashes.
    I remembered him, tall and lean, with features that had the same harsh beauty as the terrain he ruled: ruthless and hard. Greying sandy hair, and eyes the color of iron, a dark grey without warmth. I remembered his sharp banter with Melisande on the Longest Night, and how he had touched me beneath the sheer diamond-spangled gauze.
    "You seek passage through my lands?" he asked without preface, his tone tinged with irony. "What do the Tsingani want with a sailor?"
    Hyacinthe bowed. "Your grace de Morhban, we have an agreement to trade with the Queen's Admiral."
    "Since when does a sailor need a horse?" De Morhban's keen gaze swept over our group, resting on Joscelin. "What in Elua's name is that ?"
    "Your grace!" Joscelin dismounted, bowing with an elaborate flourish that set his cloak to swirling in a riot of color. "I am but a humble Mendacant, born in Marsilikos City. If you would be entertained, I will tell you of how I came to-"
    "Enough." De Morhban cut him off with a word, settling wearily into the saddle. "I've no time to waste with talespinners. So Quintilius Rousse thinks to build himself a horse patrol, does he?" The grey eyes narrowed. "Perhaps I might make a better offer for these creatures, Tsingano. What do you say to that?"
    A murmur of excitement arose among Neci's family, but Hyacinthe shook his head, as if in sorrow.
    "Alas, your grace, I gave my word to the Admiral. I swore it upon my own mother's spirit, may she rest in peace."
    De Morhban crossed his hands, resting them on his pommel. "Did you?" he asked wryly. "And what is a Tsingano's word worth? Double Rousse's offer, perhaps?"
    Another murmur, quickly hushed, from Neci's folk.
    "Perhaps," Hyacinthe said slyly. "Perhaps we may trade somewhat with your grace. A token for our passage, mayhap?" He shifted his horse. "This steed I ride, your grace, is a fine one . . . could you use such a mount?"
    "Rousse must be offering a great deal." De Morhban's face was unreadable. "No, I don't think so, Tsingano. It's not in my interest to see the Admiral horsed. But I'll play you fair, I'll pay his price, and more."
    Hyacinthe spread his arms and shrugged. "As your grace wishes. I ask only that you allow me to convey my regrets to the Admiral, and beg his forgiveness." He closed his arms and shuddered, putting a tremor in his voice. "For if you do not, my mother's mulo will ride the night winds and plague my sleep forevermore," he added pitiably.
    It was a good performance; I daresay most people would have bought it. But Kushelines are suspicious by birth, and Quincel de Morhban had not held his duchy by being a fool. He sat in his saddle and surveyed our motley band, then slowly shook his head. "No, Tsingano, I think not. Unless there's somewhat else you'd like to tell me?"
    "My lord!" Joscelin's voice rang out. Nudging his horse forward, he unsheathed his daggers, and with one quick gesture, offered both hilts-first across his forearm. "I offer you this, in exchange for trade-passage to the Admiral. Genuine Cassiline daggers, forged three hundred years ago. If you would care to listen, I will tell you how I came to bear them-"
    "No." De Morhban raised his hand. "I've no need of priests' trinkets, Cassiline or Mendacant or whatever you are. So if you've no other business with the Admiral you'd care to discuss with me, and naught else to offer in trade, let us be done with it."
    His guard ranged unobtrusively before us, spreading out, a full forty men positioning themselves between us and the not-so-distant sea, where I could see, now, Quintilius Rousse's fleet. To be so near and fail! Perhaps, I thought, we could return after nightfall and gain the fleet.
    Joscelin must have thought it too, and shown it. "The sooner it's done, my friends," de Morhban said aloud in his wry tone, "the sooner you can be on your way. I'll give you an escort to the borders of Kusheth, that no harm befalls you."
    That we didn't double back, he meant. I heard it plain. We had Ysan-dre's ring, of course, which