Naamah's Blessing

the Emperor’s attendants, we dismounted and approached on foot, the Aragonians remaining behind.
    Beneath his feathered canopy, Emperor Achcuatli inclined his head ever so slightly. “Prince of Terre d’Ange,” he said to Thierry. “I am pleased that the gods have spared you. I welcome you back to our city.”
    Like Diego Ortiz y Ramos, Achcuatli had withheld information that would have benefited Thierry, but there was no hint of apology in his voice. Unlike the Aragonian commander, the Nahuatl Emperorcould not be dismissed for creating a potential diplomatic incident with an ally nation of long standing.
    And I daresay Thierry understood it, for he bowed deeply in reply. “Your majesty, I thank you for your hospitality and for your generous aid.” He gestured at Eyahue and Temilotzin. “Without your clever
pochteca
and your brave and loyal warrior, my countrymen would never have found us.”
    “I am pleased.” The Emperor took stock of our meager baggage and our ragged, threadbare condition. “I fear your long journey met with little success. Have you aught left to trade?”
    “No, your majesty,” Thierry said candidly. “We have a few goods with which to return to Terre d’Ange. But we have gained knowledge, and that is more valuable than gold. And we have… that is, most of us have… returned with our lives, on which no price can be set.”
    “Your people place a great value on life,” Achcuatli observed.
    “I do not value my life above any other man’s,” Thierry said. “But I have a duty. I would live to see it done. I owe it to my people.”
    “That is spoken like a true ruler,” the Nahuatl Emperor said in approval. “For as long as you wish, you will be my guests. You will rest and refresh yourselves in the palace of Tenochtitlan.” He jerked his chin at Diego Ortiz y Ramos, hovering in the background. “When you are ready, the men of Aragonia may have the honor of escorting you on your journey to the city by the sea that they have built.”
    Thierry bowed again. “Thank you, your majesty.”
    Emperor Achcuatli rose and descended the steps of the dais, attendants sweeping the path before him with handheld brooms. His gold-plated sandals clanked with every step, but he managed the descent with practiced dignity. He paused before me, his obsidian eyes glinting. “It has been over a year since you departed,” he remarked. “And yet I found myself thinking of you and dreaming of flowers, thousands upon thousands of them. And so I ordered the offerings of flower and honey to Xochiquetzal, goddess of desire, to be continued in your name. I do believe they pleased her, for here you are.”
    Again, I flushed. “You honor me, your majesty.”
    Once more, he inclined his head ever so slightly before stepping into the litter that awaited him. “We will speak later.”
    When the Emperor’s litter was receding across the square, Bao raised his brows at me.
    I raised mine back at him. “I did not ask for this.”
    “No,” he said. “And yet it seems to find you anyway, Moirin.”

SEVENTY-SEVEN

    E mperor Achcuatli was generous.
    Our entire company was lodged within the vast walls of the palace. Attendants brought us all the food we might have desired. They stoked the fires of the
temazcallis
that we might sweat the grime of our long journey from our pores, and brought clean attire to don afterward. Rendered indolent by luxury, we spent three days there.
    On the second day, the Emperor sent for me.
    “You don’t have to go, Moirin.” Bao wore his shuttered expression, his face unreadable. “You could refuse to meet with him.”
    “Is that what you want?” I asked him. He didn’t answer. “If it is, I will,” I added. “Only tell me.”
    Bao sighed. “No. He’s given you no cause to refuse.” He rumpled his unruly hair. “Just…”
    “I won’t,” I promised.
    He frowned at me.
    “Stupid boy,” I said fondly. “Whatever lies behind this, it’s not Naamah’s prompting, at least not on my end of the matter. That means I am free to choose.” Sinking my hands into Bao’s thick, springing hair, I pulled him toward me and kissed him, feeling our
diadh-anams
intertwine. “And I choose to be faithful to you, my husband.”
    His expression eased. “Oh, aye?”
    I kissed him again. “Aye.”
    As it transpired, the decision was not entirely as easy as I reckoned it would be.
    Summoned by Lord Cuixtli, I met the Emperor Achcuatli in the gardens. As we had done before,