Naamah's Blessing

for something that never happened!”
    Balthasar made a
tsk-tsk
sound. “Do you imagine Kushiel does not judge you for your intentions?” he asked, leaning across the table to tickle the fellow under his chin with the knife tip. “Hmm?”
    Durel jerked his head backward. “
You
cannot prove it!”
    “Ah, well, no. But I have the certitude of faith, and I am willing to risk my immortal soul for it.” Balthasar prodded harder. “Tell me, did you intend to hide the logbook or toss it overboard?”
    The sailor resumed his silence.
    “No matter.” Balthasar withdrew the knife and took a whetstone from his purse, running it over the blade’s edge in a hypnotic rhythm, his overbright gaze fixed on Edouard’s face. “More important, who are you protecting?”
    Again, the fellow looked away, his jaw tight.
    “Oh, I don’t mean the Regent, or whoever put you up to this.” Balthasar waved the knife in a careless gesture. “No, no. I’ll come to that in time. Right now, I’m interested in getting to know
you
, Messire Durel.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his fists, still holding the knife and whetstone. “You attempted a heinous deed that might well have condemned you to a miserable death along with the rest of us. What stakes could possibly be high enough to prompt a man to do such a thing?”
    Edouard Durel was sweating profusely now, sweat running in sheets down his face, mingling with the blood from the gash on his cheek. The wardroom stank of his fear, and I felt more than a little sick.
    “Ah, now I begin to see! You got yourself in trouble, didn’t you?” Balthasar asked softly. The sympathy in his tone sounded genuine, and for all I knew, it was. “Who was going to pay the price for it?”
    “No one!” the sailor choked out.
    “Aged parents, vulnerable in their twilight years?” Balthasar speculated. “A younger brother who fell in with a bad crowd? No?” He tapped the table with the hilt of his knife, thinking. “The wife and children?”
    Durel flinched as though he’d been struck, tears filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. Kushiel’s mercy, indeed. Somewhere, I thought I heard the sound of bronze wings clashing.
    “Ah. And there we have it.” Balthasar Shahrizai laid down the knife and whetstone, folding his hands atop the table. His handsome face was solemn and stern, and the air in the wardroom was thick with the barbed coils of his gift. “Edouard Durel, I speak for mighty Kushiel himself when I tell you that there is only one way to protect your loved ones from the consequences of your actions. Will you make your confession?”
    It was not a pretty sight.
    The sailor Edouard Durel broke into ragged, anguished sobs, hisbroad shoulders heaving. Between sobs he stammered out a tale of having fallen deep into debt after returning from the ill-fated voyage to Terra Nova, drowning his sorrows and wagering at Bryony House. He’d wagered and lost everything in his possession in a matter of days, even down to the roof above his wife and six-year-old daughter’s head.
    And when it came to matters of finance, Bryony House was merciless.
    At some point during the fellow’s confession, Balthasar mimed for Denis to cut his bonds and bring a bottle of brandy. He poured a generous glass, pushing it across the table. “Who approached you? Was it Duc Rogier?”
    Edouard Durel downed the brandy and shook his head. “His wife, with that eldest son of theirs in tow.” He shuddered. “Hateful lad.”
    I quite agreed.
    Balthasar refilled the glass. “So she offered to make good on your debt in exchange for your compliance?”
    “Aye,” he said wearily. “She promised they’d never want for aught for the rest of their lives, that they’d live like peers of the realm so long as I did what she asked and never, ever spoke a word of the matter.” He rubbed at his tears. “I thought… I thought there was a chance we’d live through this. Captain Rousse is one of the most resourceful sailors I’ve ever known. He might have found a way to plot a course homeward.”
    “Gods, man!” Denis de Toluard interjected. “How could you possibly imagine you’d get away with it?”
    The sailor looked at him with dull eyes. “I didn’t. I reckoned I’d be found out sooner or later. But as long as I kept my mouth shut, my Adele and Mattie would be safe.”
    “And Prince Thierry and all his comrades doomed to whatever fate befell them in