Kushiel's Mercy

more.”
    “You mean to force the Euskerri’s hand,” Sidonie observed.
    He shrugged. “Into the ambush, aye. Whether or not they’ll agree to more is anyone’s guess.”
    “I mislike this.” I frowned. “Would it not be simpler to abandon the notion of forging an alliance with the Euskerri altogether? All we need to treat for is safe passage over the mountains. If Sidonie and I can reach Terre d’Ange, we can undo Carthage’s spell. Terre d’Ange and Alba alike will send aid.”
    “Yes.” Serafin poured a cup of water from a ewer and drank. “There is that option. And there is fear among certain quarters that you will take our aid and do exactly that.” He set the cup down. “The Euskerri are near. Despite the hostilities between us, they are a known quantity. Terre d’Ange is far. And despite the long alliance between us, it is currently very much an unknown quantity. The consensus was that at this juncture the Euskerri are a better wager. And that is the price of our aid.”
    “I see.” Sidonie was quiet a moment. “So Imriel and I and a lone guide are to make our way to Roncal, where I will inform Janpier Iturralde that I’ve brought a hostile Carthaginian force into Euskerri territory, then expect him to treat gladly with me.”
    “I don’t expect you to succeed.” Serafin met her gaze squarely. “Only to try. The Euskerri want sovereignty very badly. And there are those still very much opposed to granting it. You were the one tipped the balance. Are you unwilling now to stand by your words?”
    Her eyes flashed.
    “Sidonie.” I held up my hand. “You don’t have to agree to this. Neither of us expected it to be quite so dangerous.”
    “If there were a safer way, I’d offer it,” Liberio murmured. “There isn’t. As it is, a good many men may die for this venture.”
    “I don’t see any other choice, Imriel,” Sidonie said simply. “Other than staying and awaiting defeat. I was quick to speak of sacrifice yesterday. How can I refuse to take the risk? I’d give a lot more than a few ounces of flesh for Terre d’Ange.”
    “You’re sure?” I asked.
    She nodded. “I’m sure.”
    So it was decided.
    We wouldn’t be able to act immediately. In accordance with General Liberio’s plans, it would be a night sortie, the better to sow confusion. In order to see well enough to execute his plan, we’d need to await a tolerably clear night with a good moon, and the moon was yet a waxing sliver. He counseled patience and put his men to work building a portable gangplank to bridge the defensive trench.
    I spent a good deal of time telling the hours in the palace courtyard, honing the skills that had been neglected during my tenure as Leander Maignard. I was keenly aware that in the days to come, I would be Sidonie’s sole protector. And that was the one area of the Cassiline discipline that Joscelin had neglected to teach me—the sphere of defending one’s ward. He’d taught me everything I needed to know to ward my life. Neither of us had dreamed that one day I’d be playing such a role.
    At least I’d learned how to fight from the saddle. Gods, it seemed like a long time ago that I’d advised Claude de Monluc to trick Barquiel L’Envers into lending his own Akkadian-trained Captain of the Guard to teach the Dauphine’s Guard. It hadn’t been much more than a whim that had led me to train with them, posing as an anonymous guard among guardsmen. Now I was glad of it. With Liberio’s permission, I visited the armory and appropriated a small buckler, a leather hauberk with metal scales, a helmet with a peaked crest, and a short bow and quiver.
    For her part, Sidonie spent long hours in the palace’s library, reading everything she could find on the Euskerri. Whether or not it would prove of use, I couldn’t say, but it helped pass the interminable waiting.
    Blessed Elua be thanked, her wound continued to heal cleanly. At her insistence, some days after the council met, I took her to see Kratos. With Lady Nicola’s assistance, he’d been lodged in a boarding-room where a good-natured Aragonian widow was paid to look after him.
    “Your highness!” Kratos looked thunderstruck when he answered our knock. “You came to see me ?”
    Sidonie laughed at his expression. “How are your burns, Kratos?”
    “Healing.” He peered over his shoulder as though he could see through his tunic. “And your injury? You were passing feverish, my lady. I worried.”
    She gave me a