Kushiel's Mercy

reveal.”
    “Covertcy.” Her generous mouth curved. “He seems quite taken with Marielle. I’ll have her fetch you to her chamber when they have concluded their pleasure. Will that suffice?”
    “Perfectly,” I said. “I’m in your debt.”
    “That’s a nice place to have you,” Yolande Caradas said.
    It wasn’t long before the Carthaginians had made their selections. Astegal was ambitious; he’d chosen two adepts, a dark-haired girl with smoldering eyes, and a young man with full lips and a wiry panther’s grace. They seemed pleased at being selected. I had to own, he wasn’t a bad-looking man, and I might have found him charming if I didn’t know about his ambitions and his veiled threats.
    “Surely you’re not abstaining,” he said to me, his arms slung around the adepts’
    shoulders.
    “I am, my lord,” I replied. “I’ll await you here.”
    Astegal shrugged. “How very unlike a D’Angeline.”
    I met his gaze squarely. “You don’t know us as well as you reckon.”
    “No?” He smiled lazily. “Well, I’ll know you better after tonight, eh? At least two of you.”
    I inclined my head. “Naamah’s grace be on you.”
    One by one, they retired to private chambers, all except a certain Lord Mintho, who had fallen asleep and was snoring peacefully on the cushions. He’d been one of those who had taken his pleasure at Eglantine House, so I didn’t reckon he’d be too sorry in the morning. All of them were fairly well drunk except mayhap Astegal, and I was pleased to see that Gillimas was weaving on his feet as he left, the girl Marielle laughing and tugging his hand.
    I didn’t have that long to wait. A good deal less than an hour had passed before Marielle came to fetch me. Claude gave me a sharp look. I put my hand over his mouth before he could speak.
    “State business,” I murmured. “I need to talk to him without Astegal’s knowledge and I can’t do it at Court. There are things he may be willing to tell us about Carthage’s true intentions. As you value your commission in the Guard, keep your mouth shut.”
    Claude gave a slow nod. I took my hand away, rose, and followed the girl.
    “You’ll not get much out of him,” she said when we reached the inner corridors, her tone smug. “He’s snoring like a babe.” Marielle tossed her hair. “Patrons shouldn’t come to Jasmine House wine-sotted. They tire too quickly for us.”
    “I’m sure they do.” I smiled at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll wake him. What of General Astegal?”
    Marielle glanced down the corridor. “Now, there’s a man knows what he’s about. By the sound of it, he’ll be busy awhile.”
    “Excellent.” I fished in the purse at my belt for two gold ducats. “This is for your assistance,” I said, giving her one. “And this is for your silence.” I fixed her with a stern look. “Lord Gillimas’ life could be in danger if Astegal learns he’s provided us with secret information. Understand?”
    She nodded, chastened.
    I kissed her cheek. “Good girl.”
    I let myself into her bedchamber, closing the door quietly behind me. Gillimas was sprawled on the bed, mouth open and snoring. I picked up one of the pillows strewn about and took a deep breath, approaching the bedside. In one swift motion, I straddled him and shoved the pillow over the lower part of his face.
    Gillimas woke thrashing and terrified, uttering muffled cries. I pinned his arms with my knees and pushed hard against the pillow. His chest heaved and his fear-stricken gaze found my face.
    “Listen to me,” I said in Hellene. “Because you will die if you don’t. You’re in the Night Court of Terre d’Ange, Gillimas, surrounded by my allies, escorted by my men. I can smother you here in this bed, and the girl will swear your heart gave out during love-making. Understand?”
    His bare feet flailed ineffectually against the bedding.
    “Struggle if you like.” I leaned more weight on the pillow. “You think Jasmine House isn’t used to hearing a few odd thumps and cries? All I want is a straight answer in plain language. Will you give it?”
    He did struggle awhile longer, but he was growing weaker. At length his eyelids flickered in a way I took to indicate assent. I eased the pressure on the pillow. “I’ll let you breathe,” I said. “But one shout, one lie, one evasion, and it’s over. You have one chance.
    Understand?”
    There was a pause before Gillimas’ lids flickered again.
    I lifted the pillow a few