Kushiel's Mercy

entourage pass. They’d had that quality, some of Drustan mab Necthana’s Cruithne warriors. The Cruarch himself had had it. I’d shouted along with all the other children, tossing petals in his path. He’d glanced my way. His eldest daughter had inherited his black eyes, too.
    Beside me, Sunjata shivered. “Gods, Leander! You are truly a man besotted.”
    I jerked my chin at the ship. “Go aboard, then.”
    “I will,” he said, suiting actions to words.
    On the flagship, Sidonie vanished from view. On Captain Deimos’ ship, all my things were loaded. There was no more reason to linger on the quay. Kratos waited patiently to accompany me, blinking against the drizzle, his grey-brown hair plastered to his skull. I’d paid one of the porters to take his place at the palanquin, returning it to the villa of Maharbal’s cousin. Once that was done, my briefly held slaves were all freedmen.
    Ghanim eyed me hungrily, eager to enjoy his freedom and pursue his vengeance.
    “Go,” I said gently to them. “May Blessed Elua hold and keep you.”
    They went at a swift jog.
    I watched them go, wondering. Wondering what had prompted me to speak the words of a blessing I hadn’t uttered since childhood. Wondering what private tale of great and terrible romance Ghanim inhabited. Wondering whether the Carthaginian brothers would turn freedom into success or sink back into abject poverty. Wondering what story the hired porter had to tell. All four of them trotted lightly, carrying the empty palanquin.
    Soon they were out of sight.
    Gone.
    I sighed. I had the strangest feeling that I’d been here before, done this before. That there had been too many leavetakings in my short life. It wasn’t true, but I felt it all the same.
    Kratos put his hand beneath my elbow, steadying me. “Ready, my lord?”
    I gazed at his stolid face. The squashed nose, the shrewd eyes. “Yes.”
    He nodded. “Then let’s board.”
    As Jabnit had indicated, the journey was a fairly short one. New Carthage was an old name; the port city had been founded by a Carthaginian conqueror before Blessed Elua walked the earth. Aragonia had been part of Carthage’s empire, that was true. And then it had been a Tiberian holding, even as Terre d’Ange itself had been long ago. But Tiberium’s star had set, and like Terre d’Ange, Aragonia had been an independent and sovereign nation for many centuries.
    At least until now.
    Throughout the short journey, the weather continued to be miserable. It wasn’t truly cold this far south, but it was cool enough that the rain made one feel dank and chilled.
    Sunjata and I spent a good deal of time taking refuge in my cabin and speculating, while Kratos entertained himself by dicing with the sailors.
    “Do you suppose Ptolemy Solon was wrong about Astegal’s token being hidden on Sidonie’s person?” I asked after I’d told Sunjata about my last encounter with her. “She seemed quite convinced it wasn’t.”
    “It’s possible.” Sunjata reclined in a hammock, one foot braced on the floor, rocking himself gently. “As I understand, there’s more than one way to construct a spell.”
    “You’re the one secretly apprenticed to a horologist,” I observed. “Your guess is likely to be better than mine. Why do they call themselves that, anyway? It seems to me that they study a good deal more than the cosmos.”
    He smiled. “True. It didn’t begin that way. The study of arcane arts have flourished since Bodeshmun was appointed.” He rocked in his hammock for a moment, then added, “You know, it may well be Solon’s inquiries long ago that piqued Bodeshmun’s interest.”
    “That’s a dire thought,” I commented.
    “Mayhap it’s one of the reasons he agreed to help you,” Sunjata said. “Who knows what goes through the Wise Ape’s head?”
    I snorted. “It’s not me he agreed to help. I’m the one taking the risks, that’s all.”
    “Yes, of course.” Sunjata smiled crookedly at me. “You just seem to have grown singularly . . . invested . . . in the cause.”
    I ignored the comment. “So what do you think? About the spell?”
    “Hmm.” He pushed with his foot, rocking. “Leander, what if it’s not one thing you’re looking for? What if it’s everything ?”
    “How so?” I asked.
    Sunjata gazed fixedly at me. “Everything. What if Bodeshmun’s managed to stitch and bind the spell into every garment, every piece of jewelry the princess possesses?”
    I thought about it.