Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [206]
Well and so; that was the story of Kazan Atrabiades, who slew the brother he loved. I got him to sleep in time, and the ghost of Daroslav troubled him no more that night, nor in the nights that followed.
FIFTY-FIVE
A light rain was falling the day that Nikanor's ship returned.
I was sitting on a bench in the arcade with Glaukos, enjoying the coolness in the air and practicing my Illyrian when the runner came from the summit, panting and barefoot. Someone ran to fetch him a dipperful of water and someone else ran to get Kazan.
By the time the ship had entered the harbor, we had all assembled on the beach to greet it. Though I kept my features composed, my heart was beating like a drum. There wasn't much of a breeze, and it seemed to take forever for the ship to cross the quiet bay. I dashed the rain from my eyes repeatedly and struggled to conceal my impatience.
At twenty yards out, I realized something was amiss; Nikanor's crew was undermanned. Twelve had gone forth, butI counted no more than six on deck. Kazan saw it too. I noted his thoughtful frown before he drew his sword and hailed the ship. The gathered crowd murmured. They could count, and they had sons and brothers and husbands aboard that vessel.
Nikanor returned Kazan's hail with a shout, drawing his own sword in salute as the oarsmen put up and the ship glided alongside the dock. Some few of Kazan's men ran out to meet it, leaping agilely aboard to aid in furling the sails while the rowers rested on their oars.
"Wait here," Kazan told me, striding toward the dock.
I waited in agony as he conferred with Nikanor, trying to read their conversation in their expressions and gestures. Kazan was frowning, but he was not in a rage; Nikanor explaining. While they talked, men disappeared into the hold, reemerging with heavily laden coffers, which they bore onto the beach under Kazan's scowl. Everyone crowded round, straining to see or hear, and I felt jostled and anxious.
Presently Kazan and Nikanor disembarked, and Kazan addressed the villagers, sparing a brief glance in my direction. "The D'Angelines will meet our terms," he announced in Illyrian—I understood it passing well by now, though I spoke it poorly, "but they have claimed six men as surety for our bargain, until it be finished. As surety for their good faith, they send this." And he ordered the locks struck on the coffers.
Gold coins gleamed in the dismal light, fresh-minted D'Angeline ducats, stamped with Ysandre's elegant profile on one side, and on the other, the lily and s'even stars of Blessed Elua and his Companions. A full half my ransom— fifteen thousand in gold, all at once.
A soft sigh arose from the villagers; I daresay none of them had seen so much gold in one place before. Kazan grinned wolfishly. He'd won them over with it, and he knew it. "And our lads home safe and as much again in gold when the Lady Phèdre is restored to her people!" he shouted, rousing a cheer. Some of those crowded nearest even pressedmy hand in thanks, as if I'd willingly chosen to provide them a fortune in ransom.
After this, Kazan gave swift orders for the conveyance of the ransom into safe storage, and the arrival party began to disperse. I caught at Nikanor's arm as he made to pass me.
"Please, my lord Captain," I said to him in halting Illyrian. "Does my lady of Marsilikos send word for me?"
Nikanor's eyes flickered and he drew himself up wearily. "She says ... yes, she sends word. No token, for fear we would be captured. She says to tell you, your uncle received your message, and he sends the aid of which you spoke. Also that she will keep your vow, do we play her fair, and Kazan's men will be restored to us." He made me a brief bow, and I saw that lines of exhaustion and bitterness were etched into his features. "It is enough, I hope."
"Yes," I said, releasing