Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [198]
I opened my eyes and returned his regard. "Will you send to Marsilikos or no?"
"I will send, I." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "What are you worth, eh? Only to make the journey, for the men I will send, the time and the crossing, it is costing me a hundred silver denari. More than that, eh?"
Fury kindled in me, a slow-burning anger at Kazan, at the injuries and indignities I'd endured, at the horrible tollmy fate had exacted. "Severio Stregazza, grandson of the Doge of La Serenissima, once paid twenty thousand gold ducats for a single night with me," I said in bitter precision. "Yes, my lord pirate, I am worth more than a hundred denari."
"Glaukos is right, it must be true who you say," Kazan retorted, grinning and showing the gap in his teeth. "Or you would not be so angry, eh? So, good. I will ask for thirty thousand gold, I. You are rich, to have so much! I am not so greedy, and more is to tempt the gods, yes? If they pay, then I believe everything you say."
"They will pay," I murmured. "You may believe it."
"We will see, we," he said off-handedly. "You want me to send swiftly, yes? To me it is no matter, now or in the spring. It is you who asks for speed. What is it worth to you, eh, that I send now?"
I had no illusions about his query. "Does it matter?" I asked, gazing at him in the lamplight. "All I have, you are capable of taking, whether I offer it or no. You said if he lived, you would give me to your brother. What sop does your conscience require now, my lord, that you must force my acquiescence and put a good face on rape?"
His face hardened. "Do not speak of my brother to me," he said shortly, rising and walking some distance away to stare at the dark bay. "I would give your life, yes, and your Queen's too, to have Daroslav alive again. That is what you are worth to me, you. No more." He turned around, expressionless. "I have treated you as a guest, eh. Other men, they would not ask. I ask, I; I offer fair trade."
I thought of the weeks and months I had spent in my vain pursuit, and all those who advised me against it. I thought of Fortun and Remy, who had died because of it, and Ti-Philippe, not knowing if he lived or died. I thought of Joscelin, whom I had judged so unfairly, fighting single-handed against the garrison of La Dolorosa to free me. Did he live yet? I thought so; he had well-nigh prevailed, and that Cassiline was too stubborn to die. I had seen the torch movingon the crags at the isle's base, where only he would be reckless enough to clamber.
I thought of Ysandre de la Courcel, who had once trusted me enough to stake her throne on my bare words, who had asked me not to do this thing; of Quintilius Rousse, who had begged me to accept an escort.
And I thought of Melisande's triumphant smile.
Whatever was necessary, I would do.
"Fair trade," I said evenly. "So be it. Do you send your swiftest ship on the morrow, I will come willing to your bed, my lord pirate."
Across the terrace, Kazan Atrabiades inclined his head. "Then we have a bargain, yes? I will send Glaukos in the morning, with paper and ink, so you may write this letter." He paused, then added roughly, "I do not ask now, eh? Glaukos, he says you are injured still, and must have time to rest and heal. I am not a barbarian, to ask this of a woman."
'Twas something, at least.
FIFTY-THREE
Whether I doubted his honor or no, in this, Kazan Atrabiades kept his word. He rose early, and had made arrangements for the ship's crew by the time I'd broken my fast.
The men were in high spirits over the adventure. Kazan chose a man by the name of Nikanor to oversee the mission; his longtime second-in-command. He was quick and restless, with a reputation for making good decisions in battle, and getting itchy feet on dry land. Well and so; I had no say in the matter. Nikanor had eleven men on his crew. Of these, ten would go. For the last, Kazan ordered a substitution, an elderly fellow named Gorian. He mended nets, now, but in his