Kushiel's Avatar - Jacqueline Carey [261]
"Imriel," he said in soft D'Angeline. "Phèdre is right. It is yours to choose. Only choose wisely, for your life is precious to us."
"Wisdom!" Imriel drew in a harsh breath and hiccuped, coughing. "You keep saying and saying about wisdom! Look at what the Sabaean women have risked for wisdom's sake. I know, Phèdre. I watch their faces, like you taught me; I listen when they are not speaking. Their people, all their people! What will you risk?"
Joscelin raised his eyebrows at me. "He argues like a sophist."
"He argues like his mother," I said, resigned.
"I do not!" Imriel said, quivering with fury.
"You do," I informed him. "My lord Tifari, it seems the boy will accompany us, may Blessed Elua have mercy upon us all. Your decision is your own. We will learn it upon our return, one way or the other. I will pray Amon-Re keep you safe.”
"Thank you, lady." Tifari Amu bowed from the waist. "I will do the same on your behalf. If you do not find us here ... I pray we meet again."
Thus did we take our leave of the Jebeans and reentered Tisaar, wandering the city in the midday sun. The quaint lake-front harbor was settling into its noon torpor, fishing boats ashore, the morning's catch netted and weighed. The market-stalls were closed and no women were about. A few children played at the water's edge, and men sat drinking kavah and beer in the shade-dim shops, watching with idle curiosity as we strolled. We found the nephew's skiff, a shallow, flat-bottomed craft with a single set of oars, recognizable by its red trim. It was tied to a scrawny palm stunted by an excess of water. We walked casually past it, and in the shadow of the city wall, turned back into the narrow alleys, finding our way back to Yevuneh's home.
Her brother the soldier-captain Hanoch ben Hadad was there awaiting us.
He rose and bowed as we entered the house, and his dark eyes were watchful. "I am pleased you had the chance to observe the festival of the new moon, lady. Shall you be leaving soon, now it is done? The rains will be upon us ere the moon has reached half-full."
"Are you so eager to see us gone, my lord captain?" I asked him, letting a trace of unfeigned bitterness show in my voice. " 'Tis a long journey we face, and all the more arduous without hope to quicken our steps."
It took him aback. "It is but concern that speaks, lady."
I sighed. "Our Jebean guides make repairs upon our equipment, and replace such stores as we will require for the journey. In another day or three, we will depart."
"It is well, then." Hanoch nodded twice, absently fingering the leather-wrapped hilt of his bronze sword. "You would not wish to be caught in the rains."
"So I am told." I stole a glance at Yevuneh, who looked drained and nervous. "Is there a problem, my lord captain? Your sister seemed content with the price on which we agreed for our lodging and meals."
"No." His dark skin grew darker with a flush of embarrassment. "No, of course not. You are strangers here, and welcome; we do not forget, we who were strangers once in Menekhet. Is there . . ." Hanoch cleared his throat, ". . . is there aught you need for your journey? I do but come to offer my aid.”
"No, my lord." I said flatly. "We shall have all we need, within a day or three."
"I am sorry your journey was in vain," he said awkwardly. "I am sorry for that."
"Thank you," I said. "We are grateful for your sympathy."
After another uncomfortable pause, Hanoch ben Hadad took his leave, speaking briefly with his sister. Yevuneh sighed when he had gone, nervous and fretful. "He suspects," she said. "I know he does. Oh, I pray we have chosen wisely!"
"So do we all, my lady," I said, glancing at Imriel. "So do we all."
We took to our beds early that night and slept in shifts. It seemed my head had scarce touched the pillow before Joscelin was awakening me, touching one finger to his lips and pointing toward the night sky silhouetted in the window.
It was time.
We dressed in silence and stole out of the sleeping house, onto the quiet streets. The stars were very bright overhead