Kushiel's Mercy

speak to him today. I’m afraid that’s one decision I stand no chance of influencing.”
    “My lady, you might remind them . . .” Sidonie searched briefly, then came up with the book I’d procured for her yesterday. She flipped through it and found the place she wanted, passing the volume to Nicola. “Some centuries ago, Alfonso the Second sought to gain control of Euskerri territory,” she said. “His army outnumbered theirs ten to one, but the Euskerri harried his forces and drew them into the mountains where they suffered a terrible rate of attrition. The war went on for years and ended in a negotiated truce. But if there were a force ready to fall on the rearguard, as in Amílcar, the same tactics might be used to more immediate effect.”
    “I’ll do that.” Nicola sounded a trifle startled.
    “I didn’t know you’d such a head for battle,” I said to Sidonie.
    She raked an impatient hand through her hair. “My mother assumed the throne and inherited a war. She never wanted either of her daughters to be utterly reliant on the wisdom of others.”
    Gods, I loved her.
    “I’ll do what I can.” Nicola rose, gazing at both of us, her expression complicated and unreadable. She gave her head a little shake. “Blessed Elua have mercy! Astegal of Carthage truly grasped the tiger by the tail when he sought to divide the two of you, didn’t he?”
    “Yes.” I reached for Sidonie’s hand without thinking.
    Her fingers tightened on mine. “This is for all of us, my lady. Aragonia and Terre d’Ange, too.”
    “Even if Liberio agrees, there will be others to be swayed,” Nicola warned her.
    Sidonie nodded. “I know. Will they give me leave to address them again as an emissary of Terre d’Ange?”
    “I believe so,” Nicola said. “But I’m not sure how much weight your words will carry, my dear. With Terre d’Ange divided against itself, you’re not in a position to promise anything with certitude.”
    “Then I’ll have to be eloquent,” Sidonie said calmly.
    “Very,” Nicola agreed.
    The balance of the day passed without incident or further news. An assortment of clothing arrived for Sidonie, resolving the garment crisis. I accompanied her to the courtyard, where she sat in the sun for an hour, the stays of her bodice undone to expose her healing wound. She was quiet and withdrawn, thinking. I said nothing to disturb her thoughts. Diplomacy was her strong suit, not mine. If the council was to be swayed, the burden rested on her slender shoulders.
    Afterward, she sent me on a quest to find a detailed map of Aragonia and paper, pen, and ink.
    “Would you mind leaving me for a few hours, Imriel?” she asked apologetically when I’d returned with the items. “I need to compose my thoughts.”
    “Of course.” I grinned. “Are you saying I’m a distraction?”
    Sidonie eyed me. “Thoughts of unfinished business between us, yes.”
    I laughed and kissed her. “I’ll go see how Kratos fares. I need to speak to Lady Nicola about making more permanent arrangements for him, and for Deimos and his men.”
    I left her sitting cross-legged on the bed, her head bowed over a writing tablet, her back bare in obedience to the chirurgeon’s orders.
    In the infirmary, I found Kratos in good spirits. His ribs were swathed in bandages, but he reported that he was able to move around a little and there was less pain when he breathed. It made me hopeful.
    “So what’s to become of us, my lord?” Kratos asked.
    I told him what we were hoping to accomplish with the council and the Euskerri. He listened sagely, nodding.
    “They’d be fools not to agree,” he said when I’d finished. “All of ’em. Wrestling’s a good way to take a man’s measure, and Astegal’s ruthless. If they don’t stand together, he’ll take them down one by one.”
    “I know,” I said. “I pray we can convince them.”
    “You will.” Kratos took a deep experimental breath. “So we’re bound for Euskerri territory, eh?”
    “We?” I shook my head at him. “Oh, no. Elua willing, Sidonie and I, yes; and then on to Terre d’Ange. But you, my friend, are staying in Amílcar to recover.”
    “My lord!” he protested. “Put me astride a horse and I’ll be fine. You can’t abandon me here. I don’t even speak the language.”
    “No.” I laid a hand on his arm. “Kratos, I’ve been responsible for too many good men losing their lives in quarrels not their own. I’m not risking yours again.”
    His