Kushiel's Avatar - Jacqueline Carey [105]
When all is said and done, I am an anguissette. This is what it is to be Kushiel's Chosen. No purpose, no quest, can change the nature of what I am; for good or for ill.
After a while, Joscelin and I both took seats, waiting. And in time, Karem returned, with a second man in tow, of indeterminate years, black-skinned and leathered with exposure to the sun, an embroidered cap perched atop his wooly hair.
"Radi Arumi," I greeted him, standing and inclining my head. "In'demin aderq."
A grin split his creased face at my words, showing strong white teeth. "Ha! It is a dream-spirit that speaks to me in Jeb'ez," Radi Arumi said in pidgin Hellene. "Do I dream? My friend Karem dreams, and covers his groin with embarrassment."
I colored, although I daresay I grew no redder than poor Karem. "Messire Arumi," I said directly, ignoring it, "I am looking for thedescendants of Melek al'Hakim, the Queen of Saba's son. And I am told you know where to find them."
"Ah." Radi Arumi sat down, eyeing me and my companions. He wore loose-fitting, brightly colored robes, frayed at the edges. "There was a man, a Hellene man, asking about such things, a year or more gone by. He served a mistress in La Serenissima, he told me. He wanted to know if the stories were true. I guide the caravans to Meroë. He wanted to know if I could guide him to the scions of Saba. I told him yes."
"You told him yes." It was Joscelin who spoke, shifting subtly in his chair to show the hilts of his daggers, his sword. "Can you?" he inquired.
Nesmut drew up his knees and looked from one to the other, bright-eyed with interest. "Yes, kyrios," Radi Arumi answered, giving Joscelin a seated half-bow. "Though it is far, far to the south, I can show you. But..." He held up one hand, pale palm outward, raising a finger. "It is a long journey, and difficult. Do you wish to make it?"
"We do," I said firmly, forestalling any other answer Joscelin might give. "We have some business to attend to in Iskandria, messire guide, but be assured, we are very interested in the descendants of Saba. Can you arrange to guide us there? We will pay."
Nesmut made a sound of protest. Karem, looking sullen, wandered to his worktable and pried at the edge of a cabochon gem, peering at its hidden face. Radi Arumi watched me through half-lidded eyes. "There is," he said presently, "a caravan leaving for Meroë in a fortnight's time. I have contracted to serve as their guide. Do you wish to go with them, I will accompany you, and from Meroë, we will set forth for Saba, where Melek al'Hakim's descendants endure. Does it please you, my lady? If it does, we will speak of money."
I glanced at Joscelin, who shrugged. "Yes, messire guide. It pleases me. Let us speak of money."
And so we did, in a polyglot of languages, for it would not do but that Nesmut, our self-appointed liaison, had his say, and Karem contributed, while Joscelin and I conferred in D'Angeline. It was an art, I realized in time, and part and parcel of making the deal. At some point, a tray of strong mint tea was served, sweetened with honey. We sipped it from small cups and made polite argument with one another. When it was done, Joscelin and I had signed on to accompany a Menekhetan trade caravan to the Jebean capital city of Meroë, and thence to payRadi Arumi a certain sum to lead us south to the descendents of Saba.
"May Amon-Re smile upon our endeavors," Radi said formally, rising and bowing. "I will await you at the Southern Gate a fortnight hence. We will leave ere daybreak."
So it was done, and it left us a full two weeks to search Iskandria for Imriel's trail. Although I kept my face solemn, I was pleased with the outcome. It was time enough, I thought. If it was not, no amount of time would suffice. I thought that, then.
"Gracious lady," Nesmut said tactfully. "The noon hour is nigh. Will you not take repose?