Kushiel's Mercy

Because once she started voicing her suspicions aloud to Bodeshmun or Astegal or anyone in their service, she was in danger of changing from unwitting pawn to hostage.
    And I would be lucky to keep my eyes and tongue.
    I slept very poorly that night.

Thirty-Four

    It’s finished.” Sunjata handed me a suede pouch. “Take it. I don’t want it anywhere near me.”
    I opened the pouch and withdrew a ring. Plain gold, shaped like an intricate knot. “Is it a good copy? Good enough to fool Astegal?”
    Sunjata gave me a disdainful look. “What do you think? Of course.”
    I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
    He pulled away slightly. “You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve nearly convinced Jabnit to send me to New Carthage to establish trade for the House of Philosir. The old glutton’s rubbing his hands together with glee at the thought of the profit to be made on the back of a looting army.”
    “That’s wonderful!” I was touched. “I didn’t think you’d go.”
    He shrugged. “It was Hannon’s idea. He wants Guild eyes and ears on the ground there.”
    Sunjata smiled sourly. “Hannon’s a tool of the Council of Thirty, and there’s a slow-dawning concern among them that they might not be able to control Astegal once he seizes Aragonia. Not with Bodeshmun at his side.”
    “Idiots,” I said absently. “What did they think? So Bodeshmun’s to go to New Carthage, eh?”
    “Yes. You’ll have them all in the same place, for what it’s worth. Any progress?” he asked.
    “Some.” I sighed. “Dangerous progress.” I told him what had transpired with Sidonie.
    Sunjata whistled. “You’re walking a very, very fine line, my friend.”
    “I know. I know.” I spread my hands. “I need to talk to her alone. But those damned Amazigh are always there.”
    “You could disguise yourself as an Amazigh,” he suggested.
    I blinked. “You know, that might come in handy.”
    “I was jesting,” Sunjata observed.
    “Even so.” I pointed at him. “It’s a potential tool. Never set aside any potential tool that comes to hand, right?”
    He shook his head. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”
    I ignored the comment. “What about Bodeshmun? I know he keeps the talisman on him, and I suspect I know where. Does he have any other weaknesses I might exploit? Wine?
    Women? Boys? Opium?”
    “No, no, and no,” Sunjata said. “He’s vain, but he’s suspicious and rigid. And he’s not likely to be fooled by a disguise. Leander . . .” He fell silent a moment. “Leander, Bodeshmun’s dangerous. More than the entire College of Horologists put together, and more than Astegal. Hannon’s afraid of him, the Council’s afraid of him, I’m afraid of him.
    When you move against Bodeshmun, I think you’d best be prepared to kill him. And to fly like hell once you do.”
    I frowned at him. “Why didn’t you say this before?”
    “I thought you’d give up sooner,” he said flatly.
    “Your confidence is touching,” I commented. “Or is it your loyalty I should question?”
    “No!” Sunjata’s voice was low and fierce. “Her ladyship gave me my freedom. I would never betray her, no matter how much I doubt the merits of this endeavor.” He looked away. “Let us say that I didn’t expect you to fall in love at a single glance and become filled with noble purpose and determination.” His lips quirked. “Although mayhap I should have known better.” He looked back at me. “Ah. No denial this time?”
    “No,” I said quietly. “What I’m feeling . . . I’m not ready to call it love. By the Goddess, I barely know her! But . . .”
    “But there it is.” He wrapped his arms around his knees. “Are you seeing her again?”
    “Tomorrow.” I laughed. “My good lord Bodeshmun’s arranged for a hunting party outside the city. I’m invited.”
    “What?” Sunjata’s voice rose in disbelief. “A hunting party?”
    I grinned at him. “I convinced him he’d best find a way to distract her, or she’d begin asking inconvenient questions. And the gods know that’s true enough.”
    “Nothing like truth to leaven a good lie.” Sunjata unwound his arms and rose. “Good luck, then. I’ll see you anon.”
    Jest or no, I thought Sunjata’s idea had merit. I summoned Ghanim and spun him a tale about wishing to obtain Amazigh garb, explaining that her ladyship kept some traditions of Terre d’Ange and celebrated the Longest Night with a masked fête. Ghanim listened without comment while