Kushiel's Avatar - Jacqueline Carey [343]
The pages of the Book of Raziel were never far from his regard, and Sibeal's Alban honor guard was increasingly conscious of the might of what they warded, the Cruithne warriors taking turns among themselves with the case and carrying it as if it might singe their fingers.
"What would happen if someone stole it?" I asked Hyacinthe one day.
"Who would dare?" His smile was bleak, and a small breeze rifled our horses' manes as if in warning. "No, but it would do them no good, Phèdre. No one could read the script who had not been taught, and that was the longest part of my apprenticeship. I spent seven years learning it, for there are characters in it such as I have never beheld and sounds contained in no mortal tongue yet spoken."
My pulse quickened. "So it was with the Name of God."
"Yes." He gazed at me with his sea-shifting eyes. "But that word, I think, was not one ever written, save once. And of a surety, it was never heard on that cursed isle until you spoke it. How you learned it, I will never fathom."
"I was told it by a man with no tongue," I said. Hyacinthe laughedsoftly, not disbelieving. "Hyacinthe, what will you do with the pages? Will you take an apprentice, or let the knowledge pass with you upon your death?"
For a long time, he did not answer. "I don't know," he said at length. "Phèdre . . . I'm only still getting used to the notion that I am free to wander the earth, that I may live and love, beget children, grow old and die . . . die, like any mortal, and not dwindle endlessly into shriveled madness. It is too big to decide at once." He glanced at me again. "Do you wish to learn it?"
"No!" I gave a startled laugh. "Name of Elua, no!"
A hint of his old smile lifted the corner of his mouth. "So your curiosity has a limit."
"Yes," I said. "I do believe it does."
Hyacinthe reached over and touched my hand as we rode side by side. "Nor would I wish this on you," he said soberly. "You of all people, for you're wise enough to understand that power of this nature is more burden than blessing. Know this, though. I will never forget what you've done for me, you and Joscelin . . . and the boy. As long as I live, you may count yourself under my protection. Any aid you require is yours, always."
I squeezed his hand. "Thank you."
No more did he say. I had not told him, yet, the whole of our story, nor of what had befallen in Nineveh, where an assassin's blade had sought Imriel's life, but Hyacinthe could guess well enough that Melisande's son would have enemies, and I was truly grateful that he had offered freely the protection I had been so quick to boast of to Ysandre de la Courcel. There would be no guarantees, for Alba's shores lay far from the City of Elua and my estate of Montrève, but of a surety, the friendship of the Master of the Straits was a powerful dissuader.
Imriel.
He rode in the thick of Rousse's sailors, Phèdre's Boys, and one of them had entrusted him with bearing the company standard, the banner that bore the image of Kushiel's Dart. Imri grinned with pride at the honor, but they'd taken to him out of genuine liking, impressed with his unwavering courage aboard the Elua's Promise. I swear, it seemed he'd grown another inch on this journey. I thought with rue of Hyacinthe's offer. In truth, it tempted me ... if only the tiniest bit. Not for the power, no, but the knowledge. To master the tongue of Heaven! Ah, Elua, that would be something. Mayhap I would recognize in the strange characters those I had seen forming in the dust of the Ark ofBroken Tablets, that I might record them, writing for posterity the unpronounceable Name of God.
All knowledge is worth having.
So my lord Delaunay used to say, so I have always believed. Seven years, it had taken Hyacinthe to learn it, the tongue and script alone. How long would it take me? Less, I daresay; I had the advantage of ten years of Habiru behind me. That should halve it, at least.
In three years, Imriel would be fifteen.
And not for anything, not for the knowledge of all of the One God's secrets, did I