Kushiel's Mercy

all, I slept through most of it.”
    “So I noticed.” I kissed her.
    She returned my kiss. “Do you know, I even love you covered in . . . Imriel, what are you covered in?”
    I rubbed at my face with one flowing sleeve. “Pork grease and ashes.” I glanced down at my Amazigh robe. The dark indigo hid the stains, but the second guard had bled freely on me. “And a fair amount of blood.”
    “Ashes and blood.” Sidonie traced a line down my face. “I pray this is the last of it.”
    “I too,” I murmured.
    “My lord?” Kratos poked his head into the hold. “We’re well under way; it’s safe now.”
    He cleared his throat. “Captain Deimos wants a word with you.”
    We emerged from the hold to find the sails full and the ship moving briskly. The Cytheran sailors went about their business, casting curious glances at us, or more accurately, at Sidonie. Deimos was pacing the foredeck, his hands clasped behind his back. He fetched up before us, offering Sidonie a bow.
    “Your highness,” he said briefly. “Welcome. I am Deimos Stanakides, in the service of his eminence Ptolemy Solon, the Governor of Cythera. I presume you are Sidonie de la Courcel?”
    “I am.” She inclined her head. “Well met, my lord captain. On behalf of Terre d’Ange, I extend our most profound gratitude to you and to Ptolemy Solon. The service you have rendered us today will never be forgotten.”
    Deimos smiled tightly. “Save your gratitude. We’re not safe yet. And I’m not satisfied.”
    He fixed his intent gaze on me. “Solon doesn’t suffer fools, Leander Maignard. Why did the princess call you Imriel ?”
    I sighed.
    “Because it’s my name,” I said simply. I unbuckled my sword-belt and let it fall. Dragged the Amazigh robes over my head. “Do you require proof of my words, my lord? Ptolemy Solon himself wrought this semblance with his magics, all the better to undo what Carthage has done.” I pried off Leander’s boots and stood barefooted on the deck. Undid the laces of Leander’s shirt and hauled it off me. Once again, I’d worn my own breeches.
    “There. See and believe.”
    Deimos paled.
    An excited murmur ran around the ship.
    I bowed. “Imriel de la Courcel, my lord. Well met.”
    “Her ladyship’s son,” Deimos whispered.
    “For better or for worse, yes,” I said dryly.
    He glanced at Sidonie. “And you . . . ?”
    “Love him?” she suggested. “Yes, very much so. As much as I love my country and wish to save it from the same foul magics that bound me.” Her hand reached for mine, our fingers entwining. “My lord captain, I implore you. Make haste for Marsilikos. Lives beyond our own hang in the balance.”
    Captain Deimos licked his lips. “I’ll do my best.”
    Once Deimos was convinced, all seemed well. We sailed northward, hugging the Aragonian coast. Three days passed without incident.
    Sidonie and I shared the master cabin. The first thing I did was scour myself with soap and fresh water, washing the guise of grease and ashes from my skin. The second was to inspect the wound I’d inflicted on her.
    “Is it bad?” She craned her neck, trying to see.
    “It’s not good.” The patch of raw flesh between her shoulder blades was red and angry, weeping clear liquid. I bathed it with unwatered wine, making her hiss between clenched teeth. I swabbed it with the salve Kratos had bought, bound it with clean bandages. “You need a proper chirurgeon.”
    “Marsilikos,” Sidonie said. “I’ll live.”
    I nodded. “You will.”
    I made love to her at her insistence. Careful, always careful. Elua knows, it wasn’t that I didn’t want her, but I feared hurting her worse. I’d injured her badly a-purpose, and I never wanted to do it again. But she knew us better than I did. Knew what she needed, knew what I needed.
    Her.
    Us .
    Kratos was enchanted by her. It made me laugh. He’d grown tolerably fond of Leander and some of that had passed on to me, mixed with a measure of newfound respect; but Sidonie enthralled him.
    “Imagine!” Kratos marveled. “Here I was thinking my best years were behind me, prepared to die a broken-down useless slave, and instead I helped rescue a princess who’s as brave as she is beautiful.”
    Sidonie smiled at him with genuine warmth. “And you’re as gallant as you are clever, messire. Imriel told me you were the one conceived the plan to get Astegal’s ring. For that alone, I’m forever in your debt.”
    He turned red. “It was an honor,