Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [142]
Others murmured agreement.
My heart beat faster within my breast and I felt dizzy and short of breath. "Duc Barquiel L'Envers. You're sure?"
"Sure, I'm sure." He drank off the second half of his wine and looked straight at me. "I served next to him, didn't I? Him with that scarf wrapped round his head, like the Akkadians do, and eyes like the Queen. Never saw aught else, until the alarm sounded."
I glanced round at my chevaliers. Remy and Ti-Philippe were vibrant with triumph; Fortun wore a different look, somber and watchful. He shook his head a little when I caught his eye. "Well," I said lightly, "you're like to make his grace the odds-on favorite, although it's no help to me. Whatever happened to the poor fellow who found the sentry at the gate? The one who sounded the alarm?" Snapping my fingers, I glanced at Fortun. "What was his name?"
"Phanuel Buonard," he supplied. "From Namarre."
Raimond shrugged; all the veterans of Troyes-le-Mont shrugged. It was one of the others who said thoughtfully, "Wasn't he the one as resigned his commission? Scarpered to marry a Serenissiman lass, I recall."
Another laughed. "He resigned without permission. Captain Circot was like to track him down, I think, only he wed into an Isla Vitrari family, and those glassblowers protect their own. Likely he's still there, tending the oven-fires and watching his bride grow a mustache."
Amid the jesting that followed, Fortun asked Raimond, "What made you choose to take a commission in the Little Court?"
"I'd a mind to see somewhat beyond the bounds of Terre d'Ange," the guardsman answered promptly. "Anyway, it pays well, and the Old Man asked for volunteers."
I heard it with half an ear, my mind reeling. Barquiel L'Envers with Persia Shahrizai! If it was true, and my suspicions and Marmion's confession held good, 'twas not Persia at all, but Melisande—and the Duc L'Envers himself the traitor. Ysandre's uncle. I kept my countenance serene as I rose, summoning my chevaliers, bidding farewell to all and concealing the dull, terrified thudding of my heart.
It was a short journey homeward along the Great Canal. Remy and Ti-Philippe were exuberant, and I had to caution them to silence in the boatman's presence as they laid plans to bring this knowledge to Prince Benedicte's attention. All of the missing guardsmen, it seemed, had spoken the same.
Only Fortun was silent and withdrawn.
When we had gained the security of our rented home and secluded ourselves against servants' listening ears, Remy and Ti-Philippe recited to me in a litany the guardsmen's testimony. A full half-dozen, each cited by name—and all had seen the same thing. Duc Barquiel L'Envers, escorting Persia Shahrizai. Dizziness threatened again as I wondered how to convince Ysandre, and I had to grip the edge of the table hard to steady myself. I closed my eyes briefly to make the room stop spinning.
When I opened them, Fortun's somber face caught my eye. "What is it?" I asked him.
He glanced away, then back at me. "My lady," he said quietly. "You taught me to watch, to listen, for certain things. And there was one thing I could not help but notice." He cleared his throat. "They all told the exact same story."
"They all saw the same damn thing, man!" Ti-Philippe exclaimed, thumping him on the shoulder. "What do you expect?"
"Look." Fortun ignored him to lean over the map of Troyes-le-Mont, still laid out on the table. "Here, here and here ..." he pointed to positions marked on the ground and second floor, "... here and here, these are the stations of the guardsmen we spoke to among the Unforgiven. All of them saw a half-dozen folk that night—including Persia Shahrizai in the company of a Cassiline Brother. Look at the routes, my lady. If they're telling the truth, it's impossible that these guardsmen of the Little Court wouldn't have seen the same.”
"Mayhap they lied," I suggested. "We cannot always know."
Fortun frowned. "The Queen had everyone questioned, including the guard, at length. If two-thirds