Kushiel's Mercy

gem-merchant popped a pastry into his mouth. “Not at all.”
    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sunjata enter. I saw him pause briefly, a slight hesitation only a Guildsman would have caught. Our eyes met. His full lips moved in the faintest twitch. I wondered if he’d suspected it was me when the girl announced my arrival. He bowed silently, then lowered a silk cushion strewn with several sapphires to the table.
    “Sit, sit!” Jabnit waved hand at him. “For goodness’ sake, you know the wares better than I do, Sunjata.”
    “As you wish, my lord.” Sunjata sank to the cushions with fluid grace, legs crossed.
    Jabnit reached for another pastry. “Go on, tell him.”
    Calm and professional, Sunjata described the various gems to me, one by one, pointing out their flaws and merits. By the Goddess, he really had become proficient; but then, he’d always learned quickly. I watched his dark, slender fingers dance over the cushion, picking up this stone and that one.
    “This would fit the setting well,” he murmured in his clear voice. “Little alteration would be required. Does it match your lady’s eyes?”
    I smiled at him. “I nearly think it does.”
    “I could have it ready for you on the morrow,” Sunjata said.
    “Might it be possible to have it delivered?” I inquired.
    Sunjata smiled back at me. “I would be honored to deliver it myself. Where are you lodging?”
    I told him, then watched him depart after promising to deliver it in the morning.
    “Such a gifted young man!” Jabnit said cheerfully. “He can be a merciless scold, but he was on good behavior today.” He nudged me with one elbow. “Very popular with the patrons, too.”
    “I’m sure he is.” I returned my thoughts to the matter at hand. “So! How much will this lighten my purse, good Jabnit?”
    He named a figure, and I haggled long enough to make a good show of it. I stayed for another cup of tea, consenting to alleviate Jabnit’s curiosity about my presence in Carthage as an emissary of Ptolemy Solon’s, then left feeling well pleased with myself.
    “Home, my lord?” Kratos asked, rising.
    “Home,” I agreed, climbing into the palanquin.
    I returned to find a reply awaiting me from one of the Carthaginian lords, an old scholar named Hamilcar, inviting me to call on him at my leisure. He wasn’t one of the Council of Thirty, but he’d known Solon when they were boys, and he sounded eager to speak with me. And one entry into Carthaginian society, accepting me as Ptolemy Solon’s legitimate envoy, would ease the way for others.
    They would come.
    Bodeshmun . . . Bodeshmun might be the toughest nut to crack, guarding access to the princess. But I’d a feeling curiosity would wear him down. Like my lord Solon, he was a man who valued knowledge above all else. In the end, I thought, it would get the better of him. Then all I had to do was convince him I was harmless, and exactly what I seemed.
    And on the morrow, I’d have the benefit of Sunjata’s advice on how to do that very thing.
    All in all, it had been a good day.
    On the morrow, I idled in my private chambers until Anysus came to announce Sunjata’s arrival.
    “Excellent,” I said. “Pray, send him in. I’ve a mind to speak with him regarding another commission.”
    The steward bowed. “As you wish.”
    He left and returned shortly with Sunjata in tow. This time, Sunjata’s handsome face was perfectly composed. Not until the door was firmly closed behind him and we heard the steps of Anysus departing did he smile.
    “Well, well,” Sunjata murmured. “Leander Maignard.”
    I grinned. “Pleased to see me?”
    Sunjata came forward and put his arms around my neck, kissing me. His lips were as soft as a woman’s, but firmer. “Yes,” he said. “And curious as hell.” He tilted his head, regarding me beneath long lashes. “What in the name of all the gods is her ladyship up to?”
    “Destroying Carthage,” I said softly.
    His brown eyes widened, lit by a sudden spark of hope and bitter ferocity. “Do you jest?”
    I shook my head. “Not today.”
    “Tell me.” Sunjata’s body tensed. “Tell me everything.”
    I led him into the farthest reaches of my chambers, where there was no risk of being overheard. He sat cross-legged on my bed opposite me and listened without a word while I told him all of it. How Prince Imriel had survived his madness and come to Cythera to beg his mother’s aid. How her ladyship had persuaded Solon to give it.