Kushiel's Dart

glitter of the Due d'Aiglemort's eyes behind the jaguarondi mask. I was not so sure he did not still stand to gain.
    Delaunay had to ask; he did it gently. "What about Marc?" There was no love lost between Caspar and Lyonette, but Marc de Trevalion was his cousin and his friend. Caspar shook his head somberly, eyes shadowed.
    "My friend, if I could answer you truly, I would. It is in my heart to say that Marc would never do such a thing, and yet... he is at odds with the King over the matter of Quintilius' fleet, and there is a question of pride at stake. He has long disapproved that Ganelon will not see his granddaughter wed and the fate of the realm settled. If Lyonette presented her plan to him all of a piece ... I do not know."
    "I understand," Delaunay said, and pressed the matter no further. "How did d'Aiglemort get the letters?"
    Caspar gave the answer; it was one he had at the ready, and one we already knew. "Melisande Shahrizai."
    I opened my mouth to speak. Delaunay gave me a look, warning me not to divulge what I knew of her involvement, but I knew that well enough. It was another question that puzzled me. "Baudoin was in her thrall. Why would she give him up, when he stood to gain the throne?"
    "I would like to say it is because House Shahrizai is loyal," Caspar said, and gave a short laugh, running a hand over his salt-and-pepper hair, still disheveled from his ride. "But I think it more likely that Melisande knew full well that Lyonette would never allow Baudoin to wed her. Lyonette seeks a biddable daughter-in-law, preferably one who brings a formidable alliance with her. If Baudoin has not defied his mother in this yet, he would surely not do it when she had it in her power to win him the throne. Melisande Shahrizai is formidable in her own right, but she's no match for the Lioness of Azzalle."
    The former rang true enough, but as for the latter ... If I had not been her farewell gift to Baudoin de Trevalion, I might even have believed it. But Melisande Shahrizai had known long weeks before Isidore d'Aiglemort had supposedly gained his "proof." That the treachery was real, I had no doubt, nor the proof of it. But I had no doubt, either, that the plans for its exposure were laid with more cunning and subtlety than the treachery itself. There was naught we could do; an ambiguous word spoken carelessly to a Servant of Naamah was proof of nothing. Only I knew for certain what Melisande had meant by it-Delaunay, Alcuin and I. No, we would hold our silence on this, I thought, and Melisande Shahrizai would gain praise for having done the right thing.
    And the young Due d'Aiglemort, already a war hero, would unexpectedly rise again in prominence. Someone had said, I remembered, that all scions of Camael thought with their swords. I did not think this one did.
    In the days that followed, matters fell out in accordance with Delau-nay's prediction. Parliament was convened, and a High Court trial summoned. While the royal army, under command of the Comte de Somerville, swept through Azzalle toward Trevalion, the King heard Gas-par's petition and granted clemency to the estate of Fourcay provided Caspar place himself under the aegis of the Palace Guard until the trial was called to order.
    Nothing travels faster than gossip. A full day before de Somerville's messenger arrived, we had learned that Trevalion had surrendered after a short, pitched battle, headed in the main by Baudoin and his Glory-Seekers. It was his father, Marc de Trevalion, who had ordered the surrender. Percy de Somerville accepted his sword, left a garrison in charge of Trevalion and set out for the City with Lyonette, Marc, Baudoin and even his sister Bernadette in his custody, along with their entourage; all the principles of House Trevalion.
    When they arrived at the Palace, the trial began.
    Because Delaunay would be called to testify on behalf of Caspar Trevalion-for his loyalty remained in question-we were able to attend, Alcuin and I, somberly attired in Delaunay's colors. No seating was allocated for the retinues of attending nobles, but we found standing room at the sides of the Hall of Audience. At the far end, a great table stood. The King sat in the central seat, his granddaughter Ysandre at his right hand, and flanking them were the twenty-seven nobles of Parliament. Members of the Palace Guard lined the hall, and two Cassiline Brothers stood mo tionless behind the King, grey shadows in the background, only the glint of steel at