Kushiel's Avatar - Jacqueline Carey [208]
"It seems," I said, "that you will not, my lady. We are grateful for your hospitality."
"Yes." Valère contemplated us. "I have arranged for you and Messire Joscelin to share quarters, Comtesse. I trust it will not displease you. As far as the Akkadian nobility is concerned, you may as well be considered wed. And the prince shall be housed in adjoining quarters. I am told you have grown . . . close."
Truly, we were back in the world, and all the politics that it entailed. I remembered the genuine kindness she had shown me before we left; Valère L'Envers, I feared, had liked me a good deal better when she thought I was dead. I made a graceful curtsy, wondering if she'd already written my eulogy in these months gone by. "My lady is too gracious."
She waved a disinterested hand. "It is the least I can do. My lord Sinaddan is eager for your report, once you are rested. My lord Trente, quarters have been prepared also for you. My lords, my lady... be welcome in Nineveh."
And with that, we were dismissed and escorted to our quarters. I was bone-weary, too tired to think it through. With Joscelin and Imriel, I followed the attendant eunuch to our appointed quarters, luxuriant and generous. There was a single door dividing our rooms from Imriel's. The last I saw as I laid my head upon soft cushions on a down pallet was Joscelin silhouetted by lamplight, standing in the dividing doorway and asking a question. As I sank into dreams, Imriel's voice followed me, giving an answer . . .
. . . and then I slept, and knew no more.
In the morning, Valère's personal physician, an Eisandine chirurgeon who had travelled with her into virtual exile in Khebbel-im-Akkad, came to examine us. After so long, it was a relief to surrender to his expertise. With careful fingers, he unwrapped the bindings on Joscelin's arm, examining the set of the bone and grunting.
It was something of a shock to see how the muscles had dwindled with disuse, the skin pallid and sloughing. At the chirurgeon's bidding, Joscelin moved his arm, clenched his left hand into a fist. The chirurgeon merely grunted, bathing the injured limb with care and letting itdry before he reapplied bindings of clean white cotton, splinting them in place. Drucilla's shawl, he cast away in disdain, replacing it with an elegant sling of brocaded cloth.
"Will he regain the use of his arm?" I asked.
"Like as not, though he'll favor it all of his days." The chirurgeon shrugged. "It's well set, barbarian work or no."
I gathered Drucilla's shawl, travel-stained and creased into greasy folds, to my breast. Barbarian work. "I set it myself, my lord chirurgeon," I said. "Under the direction of a physician of Tiberium."
"You did well enough." He beckoned. "Come, then, and let me have a look."
Joscelin left the room when the Eisandine chirurgeon examined me. For all his brusqueness, his touch was gentle and impersonal. He kept his head bowed, and made no comment until it was done.
"I saw worse, among the others," he said, washing his hands in a basin. "Her majesty sent me last night. Wouldn't have thought so, if I understood aright what you've undergone. Comfrey, and oil of lavender—I'll have my assistant make a salve. But you're healing anew, where they've scarred. Your tissues . . . Kushiel's gift?"
"Yes." Sitting up, I smoothed my skirts over my knees. "If you want to call it that."
He nodded, an unexpected compassion in his grey eyes. "I've heard. I'll give you a balm, too, to rub on yon Cassiline's arm, when the time comes. Three more weeks, mind, before the bindings come off. It will help the blood flow, and aid healing. Don't tell him I gave it you, or he'll be out of the sling in a heartbeat. I know his kind."
"Thank you," I whispered. "My lord chirurgeon, thank you."
"You needn't. I've taken a vow, like you." He paused. "I saw the boy, earlier."
"And?" Anxiety made my heart beat a little faster.
"He'll heal." The chirurgeon gathered up his things. "The brand will leave a