Kushiel's Avatar - Jacqueline Carey [40]
I thought of the hope that had shone in her face, in her soft-spoken words. You will find a way to free him. I wondered if Hyacinthe knew, and what he felt about it. I wondered what I felt about it. But all I said aloud was, "I know."
THIRTEEN
WE PASSED the night in a pleasant inn, enjoying our evening meal in an open-air courtyard and conversing with other travellers. In the morning we found our mounts well rested, coats curried to a high sheen, led out to the roadside mounting-block by a country lad, his hands and feet too large for his gangling frame. He blushed and bowed when Joscelin gave him a silver centime, stealing glances at me beneath lashes as long as a girl's. One day he would break hearts, I thought, but not yet.
And then we were on our way again, riding down tree-lined roads through the fertile heart of D'Angeline farmland.
The sun was not yet high overhead when we reached Champs-de-Guerre, those broad green fields where the standing army of Terre d'Ange trained and was barracked. Inquiring at the officer's quarters, we were told that Duc Barquiel L'Envers was reviewing a corps of infantrymen on the main field.
"Shall we wait?" Joscelin asked. "They'll break soon enough for the midday meal."
"No," I said decisively. "Let's meet Lord Barquiel on the field."
An obliging lieutenant directed us to the place, though I reckon we'd have found it by the noise alone. It was a vast field, green turf churned to muddy collops by a thousand booted feet, with the grunting of men at strife and the clash of armor against armor and sword on shield resounding in the sunlit air.
'Twas easy enough to pick out Barquiel L'Envers, striding alongside the skirmish, a surcoat of L'Envers' purple over his steel-plated armor, shouting exhortations at subcommanders and infantrymen alike. I drew rein on my mount and Joscelin followed suit.
Presently Barquiel noticed, and gave orders to his standard-bearerto signal the practice ended. He himself came striding over with a grin.
"Well, well, well." Planting his feet, Barquiel L'Envers cocked his head at me. "Comtesse Phèdre nó Delaunay de Montrève. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
"Your grace." I inclined my head, still seated in my saddle. Sunlight flashed on the Companion's Star pinned at my breast, an unsubtle reminder that I had leave to address him as an equal. "There is a matter I wish to discuss with you."
Beneath his turbaned helmet, an affectation from his days as the ambassador to Khebbel-im-Akkad, Barquiel L'Envers raised his brows. "Is there, indeed? And what does my lady Comtesse offer in exchange for free range to my thoughts?"
I sat back, nonplussed. "What does my lord Duc desire?"
If it was an assignation, I had no intention of granting it; but Barquiel L'Envers was too clever for aught so obvious. His violet gaze, so like his niece Ysandre's, moved off me and onto Joscelin. "There is a myth," he said casually, "popular among my men, that a bare-headed Cassiline with a sword and vambraces can defeat a soldier in field armor bearing sword and shield in open battle. I say it is romantic folly. What do you say, Messire Verreuil? Shall we put it to the test?"
"Your grace." Joscelin's voice was mild. "I cannot claim that honor. I have been declared anathema by the Cassiline Brotherhood."
"Ah, yes." L'Envers smiled. "The Queen's Champion, Lady Phèdre's consort, the eternal apostate. And yet, Messire Verreuil, when people say The Cassiline, they speak of you. Will you not cross swords with me?"
Joscelin and I exchanged a glance. No words, not even a shrug were needed; we knew each other's minds, and the decision was his. "As you say, your grace," he said to L'Envers, "I am Cassiel's servant still in my own way." He shook his head. "And as such, I draw my sword only to kill, my lord. I will not draw it on you."
"A convenient prohibition," Barquiel L'Envers observed to his men, who had drawn nigh and watched with interest.
"My lord L'Envers." Joscelin dismounted with grace, handing his reins to a startled soldier. Facing Barquiel L'Envers, he bowed