Naamah's Blessing

Prince Thierry had engaged Eyahue to negotiate for the supplies everyone prayed were forthcoming for our return journey, and various live specimens and samples of Quechua workmanship. He was determined not to return to Terre d’Ange empty-handed after all his travail.
    I would not have thought we had aught left with which to trade, but the
Sapa Inca
Huayna had acted with strict integrity to restore the arms and armor that Raphael had confiscated from our company. Thierry had declined to trade the swords, brigandines, and helmets, but in exchange for the bulkier pieces of plate armor, he was able to secure all he wanted.
    “We’ve spoken of establishing further trade in the years to come,” Thierry told me, a faraway look in his eye. “Captain Rousse is interested in returning with an expedition of mapmakers and engineers to dredge a river passage across the isthmus. It could open up Terra Nova in a manner the Aragonians never even dreamed of.”
    “You have duties at home, my lord,” I reminded him, a bit alarmed. “Terre d’Ange needs you far more than Terra Nova does.”
    “I know.” Thierry sobered, his gaze returning from the distance. “Believe me, Moirin, my adventuring is done. But if I am fortunate enough to survive this and take possession of the throne, I will have the means to back such an endeavor.”
    “Ambition can be a dangerous thing,” I murmured.
    “Yes, I know.” He met my eyes steadily. “I watched Raphael de Mereliot descend into madness because of it. But men must have dreams, Moirin. And I watched Terre d’Ange descend into idle frivolity because my father didn’t encourage the best and brightest among us to dream boldly.” He smiled with sorrow. “He was a good man, and a fair and just ruler. But I do not wish to repeat his mistakes.”
    To that, I had no reply.
    “I suspect it could not be done in a single lifetime,” Septimus Rousse added. “But who better than us to attempt a beginning?” He nodded at the
Sapa Inca
, who was drinking freshly brewed
chicha
from a golden bowl. “We have a strong ally in this Quechua Emperor, and a foundation of trust on which to build. Both our nations stand to benefit.” He paused. “Denis de Toluard and I spoke often during our journey of how such a thing might be accomplished,” he added in a softer tone. “It helped pass the time and occupy our minds. I would undertake it in his memory.”
    I had no reply to that, either. I lifted my own bowl of
chicha
. “To Denis, then, and all our fallen comrades.”
    Bao’s expression was shuttered as he drank, and I knew he thought of Cusi. But when I touched his arm, he summoned a quiet smile for me. “Do you harbor any ambitions I should know about?” I asked him.
    His smile widened, turning genuine. “Just the one.”
    I raised my brows. “Fat babies?”
    “Round as dumplings,” Bao affirmed. “Just wait.”
    Balthasar Shahrizai snorted into his
chicha
. “Now that, I’d like to see.”
    I would, too.
    That night, I slept and dreamed for the first time since the nightof the sacrifice. Unsurprisingly, I dreamed of walking the fields, my bare feet sinking into the loose soil, the tall stalks of
maize
swaying around me. In my dream, I walked alone and unattended, breathing slowly and deeply, extending my arms to brush the leaves. And in my dream, it did not surprise me when I rounded a furrow and saw my lady Jehanne awaiting me beneath the green shadows of the arching leaves, her slender figure clad incongruously in the white satin garb of her Snow Queen costume, an ermine-trimmed cloak flowing from her shoulders and brushing the earth, diamonds glittering in her fair hair.
    Her head tilted a little. “Moirin.”
    I smiled at her. “Aye, my lady.”
    She drew nearer, the expression on her exquisite face earnest. “You know why I’ve come?”
    I nodded. “To say farewell.”
    “It ends here.” Jehanne’s shoulders rose and fell as she took a sharp breath. “You’ll tell my daughter I loved her?”
    Again, I nodded. “Does that mean I return safely?”
    She shook her head. “That, I cannot know.” Her blue-grey eyes searched mine. “I was only ever allowed to know what was needed. You do know that, don’t you?”
    “Aye,” I said. “I do.”
    “Aye.” Jehanne echoed the word with a smile. “Oh, Moirin!” She gestured all around her. “The world grows and changes, but a gift such as yours should not be allowed to pass from it. The world needs its ambitious