Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [141]
"Ah," Felicity murmured presently, and nodded. "There."
Attended by two pages and a single guard, a figure strolled the balcony above the garden, tall and slender, clad in an elegant gown of creamy white, overlaid with silver brocade, complimenting the shining silver net of Asherat's Veil. In her arms, Benedicte's young wife held their infant son; I could make out chubby fists waving, and a riot of dark curls. Madame d'Arbos and I both made deep curtsies and held them until they had passed back inside.
"Poor little lad," Felicity d'Arbos said sympathetically, straightening. " 'Twill be a mercy when he's of an age to foster, and I pray Benedicte has the sense to send him to court in the City of Elua. Maria's kin won't like it, but truth, there's naught for him here in La Serenissima, D'Angeline-bred as he is."
Having seen what I had of Serenissiman politics, I could not help but agree. Indeed, I remembered my momentary consideration of Severio's proposal with somewhat of a shudder. La Serenissima was a beautiful city, to be sure, but it was not home to one of Elua's line.
We said a cordial farewell after our stroll, and I promised to send her greetings on to Allegra Stregazza, and urge her to visit with her two young ones. I daresay I should have sent a page in search of my chevaliers, but it had been a long time since I'd had the liberty to go anywhere unaccompanied, and instead assured Madame d'Arbos that I would meet my attendants by the gate.
So it was that I wandered the halls of the Little Court on my own, guessing rightly that the guards' quarters would be found in the vicinity of the kitchens. Inside the common room, a dozen and more guardsmen laughed and jested, leaping to attention when the sentry on duty announced me.
My three chevaliers were there, and I could tell by the gleam in Ti-Philippe's eyes that they had learned somewhat.
They fell all over themselves offering me a seat, a cup of wine, a bowl of barley stew, all of which I declined.
"My lady," Fortun said soberly, bowing. "We have been reliving times of old, which you will well remember. This is Geoffroy of L'Agnace, who served at Troyes-le-Mont. And Ignace, and Jean-Vincent, and Telfour, all veterans of the same. You missed Kerney and Meillot, I fear, who were called to duty, but I am told there are others here, as well. Meillot promised to send them if he might."
Six or better of the missing guardsmen? I exclaimed in partially unfeigned surprise, and did take a seat, then—and since I'd no idea what had already been said, I kept my mouth closed on the topic of Melisande's escape. For the better part of an hour, they rehashed the fateful battle. My role in it—crossing the Skaldic encampment to alert the fortress—was related with especial glee. I smiled as if flattered, and ignored the phantom pain that flared on my left shoulder, where Waldemar Selig had begun stripping my skin from my flesh. All in all, that escapade was one I did not like to remember.
"Raimond!" The entry of another guardsman was hailed by his fellows, and he was introduced all around as another of the survivors of Troyes-le-Mont.
"Well met, soldier!" Remy rose to clap him on the back, laughing. "Come, we're fighting the battle over, and trying to settle somewhat besides. Tell us, what did you see, the night of Melisande Shahrizai's flight?"
"Ah, well." Glancing at me, the new arrival bobbed a nervous bow. "Begging your pardon, my lady, to speak of such unhappy things."
"Pray, speak freely." I smiled, and took a gamble. "It is a matter of many outstanding wagers at home, in the betting-houses of Mont Nuit. We might all be the richer for your perspective."
Raimond the guard accepted a full mug of wine and quaffed half its contents before sitting. "Naught out of the ordinary, I'm afraid. I was on duty when young Lord Ghislain came 'round at five bells, outside the war room on thefirst floor. Afore him, I saw naught but Lord Barquiel, the Queen's