Kushiel's Mercy

The lad approached the throne, trembling.
    Drustan moved swiftly, rising and grabbing a handful of his hair. He stared into the lad’s eyes, his face deadly. “I should send you home in pieces, farmer’s son,” Drustan said softly. “Or at the least have you flogged. But time is short.”
    “Your majesty,” the poor fellow whispered. “Please!”
    Drustan put his free hand on the lad’s chest and shoved him. There was a ripping sound.
    The lad cried out in pain, stumbling backward and falling hard. “No quarter.” Drustan tossed a hank of brown hair on the lad’s sprawling form, the roots bloody. “No terms but surrender. Go.”
    He went, weeping.
    I wanted to weep, too.
    “Take the Baronesse de Bretel and the others,” Ysandre said with disdain. “Get them out of my sight.”
    The Palace Guards obeyed, shoving them past us. Isabel de Bretel paused before me, seeking my gaze as she’d sought Sidonie’s. Her gnarled hands rose, chains clanking at her manacled wrists. I could still remember the feeling of her hands pressing mine in gratitude and apology, the overwhelming sense of forgiveness and redemption that had come with it. But I didn’t dare meet her eyes. I turned my head away from her and saw Sidonie’s dispassionate face. As I gazed at her, her brows knit. For a second, for the merest space of a heartbeat, I thought mayhap there was a flicker of agonized awareness behind her eyes. Then it vanished and my heart ached anew.
    We had given them hope.
    We had failed them.
    “My lords and ladies!” Ysandre’s voice rang clear and true. “You have heard the final word of those who would destroy the rule of law in Terre d’Ange. They are relentless.
    They are the enemy. I bid you go forth this day. All who will serve, I bid you to say farewell to your families. All who will remain in the City, I bid you remain stalwart in your defense of her. And to all, I bid you reassemble here on the morrow, an hour past dawn, and hear a declaration of war !”
    The cheers shook the rafters.
    My stomach roiled.
    I walked out of the Hall of Audience in a daze. People streamed on either side of me, cheering. When I felt a heavy hand descend on my shoulder, I whirled, more than half-ready to fight.
    “My lord.” Kratos backed away, raising his hands.
    “How could you let her remove the bindings?” I hissed . “How?”
    His broad chest rose and fell. “She pulled them loose in the bath,” Kratos said simply. “I can’t be everywhere, my lord. I’m sorry.”
    “I know.” I clenched my fists, willing my fury and despair to subside. “You did your best.
    Thank you.”
    “It didn’t make much difference, my lord,” he said quietly. “I think we’d already lost her.
    At least she’s no longer in pain.”
    “Imriel?” It was Phèdre’s voice somewhere behind us, worried.
    “Go. Don’t give Sidonie any reason not to trust you.” I jerked my chin at Kratos and he faded into the throng.
    “Why are you in such a hurry to be gone?” Phèdre reached my side, reached up to touch my cheek. “Did you know that woman, Imri? The baronesse? The way she hesitated, it almost seemed she knew you.”
    “No.” I gazed at Phèdre, at her still-beautiful face. The scarlet mote of Kushiel’s Dart floated atop the dark iris of her left eye. On the eve of war, I was still her greatest concern.
    I took her hand, pressed it as Isabel de Bretel had pressed mine. “No, I don’t know her,” I lied. “May we go home?”
    Phèdre nodded. “Of course.”
    That night, the moon rose full and silver and bright. It seemed far too lovely to be a harbinger of war. I searched the City with Hugues and Ti-Philippe accompanying me. As before, we began at the beginning, in Elua’s Square and spiraling outward. I thought about how so many things seemed to have come around full circle, but mayhap it wasn’t a circle after all. Mayhap it was a spiral, loop upon loop repeating, ending at the farthest point from where it had begun.
    Valor turned to poisoned folly.
    Heroes turned to destroyers.
    Traitors turned to allies.
    I pushed the thoughts away and concentrated on my search. Ti-Philippe and Hugues didn’t make much of a pretense of searching, chatting instead of the war to come. The retainers of House Montrève would be staying to defend those left behind in the City of Elua. Both were envious of those who would be serving under Drustan and Ghislain’s command.
    “I’m sorry you’re not able to serve, Imri,”